Nueva York ida y vuelta

by Henry Miller

Aller Retour New York is truly vintage Henry Miller, written during his most creative period, between Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn. It was, in fact, his second published book.

Genres: Nonfiction, New York, Comedy, The United States Of America, Travel, Literature

109 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1945

About the author

Henry Valentine Miller was an American novelist, short story writer and essayist. He broke with existing literary forms and developed a new type of semi-autobiographical novel that blended character study, social criticism, philosophical reflection, stream of consciousness, explicit language, sex, surrealist free association, and mysticism. His most characteristic works of this kind are Tropic of Cancer, Black Spring, Tropic of Capricorn, and the trilogy The Rosy Crucifixion, which are based on his experiences in New York City and Paris (all of which were banned in the United States until 1961). He also wrote travel memoirs and literary criticism, and painted watercolors.

Reviews

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another example of the lost art of letter writing. In the present day, all communiqués between writers are limited to infrequently slapdash email or Twitter exchanges, each hastily composed in the knowledge that the recipient would not reciprocate were you to construct a lovingly laboured prose missive. As writers, we vent our creative energy into writing for unknown people in unknown rooms in unknown locations, as though the desperately seeking the strangers who will show our words the respect we believe they deserve, and connect with us on some lofty plane of psychic comprehension. This in place of speaking directly to the people who are seeking everyday meaningful connections with us through humble e-comms. To these people we offer slapdash emailese—curt, emoji-splattered nonwords that frankly insult the persons kind enough to command our attention. Henry Miller wrote a 70-page letter to his friend Alfred Perlès—an earthy frolic through the author’s New York and elsewhere, a heady swirl of loose talk, unfiltered opinion, merry leaps of fantasy and parody, mockery and homage, all capturing the intoxicating presence of Miller-in-person. So you can stick your out-of-office replies where the sun don’t shine (Scotland), I’ll take Miller’s way. This volume also includes the hilarious ‘Via Dieppe-Newhaven’, an encounter with an arrogant English border patrol, and the kindness of a personal guard who by law had to watch him take a dump.

[Shauny Free Palestine · Rating 3 out of 5]

Released after Tropic of Cancer and also published by Obelisk Press in Paris, Aller Retour New York (1935) is a letter addressed to Alfred “Joey” Perles. He wrote it during his second voyage to France. This is his second book, and I can’t help but feel it was a missed opportunity.

It’s one of his angriest, and unfortunately, quite anti-semitic, however, a few things need to be mentioned. First, the owner of Obelisk Press, Jack Kahane, was Jewish , and he never considered it prejudice, and second, Miller addressed the the sort of language he used in the novel and regrets it. Finally, it’s quite clear Miller bears no grudge as he passionately defends many minorities, including Jews, in later works.

Unfortunately, this is only one part of the issue with the novel. The other is that for the first half of the book he doesn’t have a lot of interesting observations or anecdotes to share. The observations he does make regarding his fellow passengers are surface level and at best, mediocre.

However, the story ends on a high note as the voyage nears the end of the trip and he makes some amusing comments on England…

“Plymouth itself is soothing to the nerves. England itself comes to a gentle resolution here at the land’s end. She puts her best foot forward, and there’s no boot and spur attached. It’s green and gentle, dreamy, somnolescent. The earth seems to breathe, as at the very dawn of time. If only there were no English!”.

He also eloquently describes seeing his beloved Paris once more, but I’ll leave the details to the curious reader who gives this rather average Miller their time.

3/5

Miller Read:

1. Tropic of Cancer
2. Aller Retour New York
3. Black Spring
4. Tropic of Capricorn
5. The World of Sex
6. The Colossus of Maroussi
7. The Air-Conditioned Nightmare
8. The Smile at the Foot of the Ladder
9. Sexus
10. Plexus
11. A Devil in Paradise
12. Big Sur and the Oranges of Bosch
13. To Paint is to Love Again
14. Nexus
15. Greece
16. Insomnia, or The Devil at Large
17. Writer and Critic

[Cátia Vieira · Rating 4 out of 5]

Miller is my favourite author, but while I was reading Aller Retour New York I was getting a bit bored. There were some very good passages, but I was also feeling quite disconnected. However, the last thirty pages (Via Dieppe-New Haven) were amazing and totally worth the wait. Although it isn't a masterpiece, I really recommend this book.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Miller as an author is growing on me. This novel was amusing especially the description of the Empire State Building. The description of his run in with UK custom officers and deportation from England and the opposite experience with the French custom officer I can relate too! During this period of his life and writing he had almost a visceral hatred of America and a passionate love for France and Paris.

The witty humor and semi autobiographical narrative is an enjoyable read. The voyage in third class on a Holland America ship was also amusing and the Dutch breakfast.

[Tom King · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is anarchic and alive, and there are passages of great humour alongside moments of genuine pathos. I was taken aback by the fairly explicit antisemitism, especially at the beginning of the book. Not for the fainthearted, though easier once you know more of Miller's story.

[victor campos · Rating 3 out of 5]

Miller laughs at everyone, Americans, Dutch, English and ends with a reflection about his travels. I like Miller very much. is not like his best works, but enjoy it.

[Estelle Joynt · Rating 1 out of 5]

do not recommend. why was this high-key just very sexist and racist with no plot. might have to burn this book so no one can find it and accidentally stumble across it like me.

[Brendan · Rating 5 out of 5]

This single letter, almost 80 pages long, is pure Miller. Alive with description, skipping from one topic to another with no transition, verbose and hysterically funny. Worth reading if you’re a fan of his classic work.

[Come Musica · Rating 4 out of 5]

Irriverente come scrittura e così piacevole.
Ci sono dei periodi davvero folgoranti.
La classe si rivela dai dettagli e Miller ha classe e stile da vendere.

[Rosa Tolava · Rating 4 out of 5]

Henry Miller combina géneros como el diario de viaje y la carta. Mezcla que estalla en todos los niveles de su escritura en este texto, sobre todo en la lengua. En su recorrido por Nueva York, compara esta ciudad con París a través de los bares, restaurantes, teatros, la literatura, las respectivas diferencias culturales, las mujeres. Sus recuerdos, anécdotas y relatos retratan una ciudad americana con tintes negativos para Miller, mientras que París encarna lo opuesto: la creatividad, la libertad, el goce. Miller hace una crítica feroz de Estados Unidos y de la falta de reconocimiento que como escritor padece en su propio país.

"A Norteamérica le falta ese algo. Puedes pensar quizás que estoy amargado contra mi propia patria, pero que Dios me perdone si insisto en que ESE ALGO es lo que
realmente le falta al país «Ellos» y «ese algo» van juntos, ¿me entiendes?"

"Las mujeres están mejor en países donde se las supone mal tratadas".

"Si alguna vez vuelvo a este país, me saltaré tranquilamente Nueva York e iré a las afueras despobladas donde no hay más que gente ignorante y adorable. Los intelectuales me dan cuatro patadas, igual que los artistas, los comunistas y los judíos. Nueva York es un acuario (quizás esto ya lo he dicho antes) donde no hay más que salamandras acuáticas, lombrices, viscosos meros de dientes sobresalientes, tiburones con peces pilotos a proa y a popa".

"Imagino lo mejor y lo peor, pero no lógica racial.
¿Vas formándote una imagen bien clara de Estados Unidos? Si no, limpiaré el objetivo".

"Detesto todos los libros que exponen las cosas cronológicamente, que empiezan con la cuna y terminan con la sepultura. Ni aun la vida procede así, por mucho que la gente lo crea. La vida sólo empieza en la hora del nacimiento espiritual, que puede ser a los dieciocho o a los cuarenta y siete años. Y la muerte jamás es la finalidad… ¡sino la vida! ¡más vida! Alguien debe tirar una horquilla en este río de tiempo-espacio que los norteamericanos han creado: debe hacerse que los ríos corran hacia arriba, a contrapelo...Yo creo, Joey, que soy el tipo capaz de hacer que los ríos corran cuesta arriba".

"Sostener este libro en mis manos es como abrazar a un viejo amigo".

"Las cosas se deterioran con mayor rapidez que en Estados Unidos. Deterioro físico. Pero el alma se expande. En forma constante y paulatina, como la marca del termómetro que sube, se expande el alma. Las cosas se pudren y en esta rápida podredumbre el yo se entierra como una semilla y florece. Cesa la sensación
de paredes secas, de cortantes divisiones, de fractura y cisma, aquí el cuerpo se convierte en la planta que es, desprende su propia humedad, crea su propio ambiente, produce una flor. Ahora una flor nueva cada día. El yo está firmemente arraigado, el suelo con su buen abono. En vez de un millón de paredes que se elevan en forma de torres, sólo una gran pared, la muralla china que los franceses han construido con su propia sangre. Dentro de esta muralla, una seguridad y una serenidad que Norteamérica no conoce".

"Ninguno se atreve a soñar en una vida
totalmente nueva, nueva desde el principio mismo. Nadie sueña en una vida sin polvo, sin pobreza, sin pesar, miseria, enfermedad, muerte, desastre. Todos estos elementos fluyen ahora por la calle en un río negro, una cloaca de desesperación que corre por el mundo terrenal donde vagan intranquilos los fantasmas y los antepasados. Tan cerca están los hombres de debajo, que los pies de los de arriba les rozan las cabezas. Las sepulturas rebosan, los muertos son despedidos del interior, como si las sepulturas los vomitasen. En algún lugar del borde hay una pérdida. Por esta rajadura del mundo subterráneo sale un vapor gris que convierte al mundo vivo, a los hombres vivientes, en negro hollín. El pasado resuella pesadamente bajando por nuestros cuellos. Revolotea y palpita como una capa que oculta a un hombre que se ahoga.
Entre esto y Nueva York yace el océano".

"Caminando por la rue Bonaparte el
otro día, por mucho que parezca ilógico, recapturé el espíritu de la cuestión. Cuando
andas por esta calle sabes que lo que los intelectuales dicen todo es mierda: que el
arte está muerto, que no hay público, etc. Esta pequeña calle es prueba de lo que digo. Cualquier cosa que se diga en ella es mentira. Esta calle te permite vivir. El día en
que camines par ella comprenderás de qué hablo yo siempre. Ese día la pérdida que
tienes a un costado, o lo que sea, cesará. Te lo garantizo. De lo contrario, sería mejor
que te pegases un tiro. Esto es lo último que digo a ti y a Estados Unidos".

[Christos Karayiannis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well, in the first part of the book Henry Miller babbles incessantly, so there is nothing important here. The second part however, titled VIA DIEPPE-NEWHAVEN, is a little gem. Henry goes into trouble by having himself arrested while attempting to enter England, after breaking up with his 2nd wife. He describes the unfortunate moments, his feelings in jail and his frienship with a rather intellectual guard the way only Miller can. This is probably one of my best Miller moments (OK I'll provide some more: the first part of Paris 1928, Big Sur and the Oranges of HB, some parts of Nexus, Sexus, Plexus, the way he describes modern Greeks in 3 plus 3 pages in Colossus of Marussi, and Quiet days in Clichy).

[Amy · Rating 4 out of 5]

On returning to France.... “Here the slightest inattention is costly, ruinous. Deterioration sets in quicker than in America. Physical deterioration. But the soul expands. Steadily, like a thermometer rising, the soul expands. Things are rotting away and in this quick rot the ego buries itself like a seed and blooms. No more the feeling of dry walls, of sharp divisions, of fracture and schism; here the body becomes the plant it is, it gives off its own moisture, creates its own ambiance, produces a flower. Every day now a new flower. The ego is rooted, the soil well manured.” - pg 68

[Ari · Rating 3 out of 5]

Miller haciendo de Miller, esta vez a partir de una carta que comienza a relatar previo al viaje que lo llevará de New York a Paris, quizá explicando porque abandona su país para radicarse y escribir sus mejores novelas en el viejo mundo. Es probable que aún no sepa que será su destino final, no obstante aprovecha para describir Estados Unidos y su cultura con todas las incomodidades que uno pueda encontrarse. Por momentos se vuelve aburrido también, pero siempre logra escaparse con sutiles cuotas de humor y transgresión.

[Kasparov · Rating 3 out of 5]

Scritta tra Tropico del Cancro e Tropico del Capricorno, Parigi - New York andata e ritorno è una lunga (lunghissima) lettera all'amico Alfred Perlés, uno dei suoi più grandi e intimi amici. Si conobbero a Parigi e Perlés si prese subito cura di Miller, dandogli un tetto, da mangiare, incoraggiandolo a scrivere. E Miller ha scritto, ha scritto tanto, anche per lui. I suoi libri sono pieni di inside-jokes che solo loro due potevano capire, Perlés era l'unico a riconoscere i veri nomi dietro i vari Boris e Cronstadt, personaggi del Tropico del Cancro. E così Miller, che da New York sta tornando a Parigi, decide di scrivergli una lettera per aggiornarlo sul suo soggiorno nella grande mela.

Henry Miller & Alfred Perlès


È nello stile tipico di Miller, cioè "la verità, tutta la verità, nient'altro che la verità" e senza correzioni (così giura l'editore), questa lettera è scritta di getto, con divagazioni filosofiche sulla vita e le solite avventure di Henry, tra il reale e il romanzesco. Miller critica tutto e tutti dell'america e degli americani, dai loro party, in cui "la gente sa fare solo un gran baccano" al fatto che le macchine e il progresso li atrofizzi e zombifichi:

Le macchine li mandano ai pazzi. Niente si fa più a mano. Perfino le porte, magicamente, si aprono da sole: quando ti avvicini calpesti un pedale e ti si spalancano davanti. E poi ci sono le medicine brevettate. Exlax per la stitichezza e Alka-Seltzer per i postumi della sbornia. Per colazione Bromo-Seltzer. Per cominciare bene la giornata ti devi alkalizzare!, sta scritto sui treni della metropolitana.

Critica le donne, per lo più stupide e con malattie veneree; gli intellettuali e artisti di ogni tipo. A Miller danno fastidio tutti quelli che hanno scelto la via della cultura e dell'arte, perché questo impedisce loro di vedere la vita com'è e viverla a pieno. In altri libri dirà: "chi ha la pancia piena di classici è un nemico della razza umana". La cultura rende gli intellettuali conniventi con l'orrore dei suoi tempi, perché staccati dal proprio corpo e incapaci di comprensione ed empatia.
Proprio questo disgusto per gli intellettuali l'ha reso così unico, insieme a Céline, nella letteratura del tempo, con la sua scrittura colta e sporca, descrivendo il sesso in modo grottesco e pornografico, elevando il Brutto quasi a forma d'arte. Ma al contrario di Céline, di cui Miller era un grandissimo estimatore* Miller non parla di spilorci, pedofili, fannulloni, ladruncoli, ruffiani, ipocriti e molestatori per denunciare la bruttezza della Vita e dell'essere umano, ma anzi, lo fa con l'intenzione di celebrare la Vita, che è fatta anche di questi ingranaggi. È così bella, la Vita, che è peccato mortale sprecarla nascondendosi dietro la cultura, il buon costume, il politicamente corretto, il moralismo imperante e bigotto. Per Miller vivere vale più di ogni cosa, più di ogni opera d'arte e di ogni poesia, di ogni romanzo.

E così è Parigi secondo lui. Una città in cui il Bello e il Brutto coesistono perfettamente; una città in cui nessuno osa immaginarsi una vita senza sporco, dolore, miseria, malattie e morte, il nuovo e il vecchio vivono insieme per il presente. È questo che manca all'America:

L'America sembra nuova perché non c'è mai un elemento di paragone. L'America in realtà non esiste! Non sono che milioni di cose scollegate una dall'altra, o meglio collegate solo in quanto una parte di una macchina può esser collegata a un'altra parte"
o ancora: "Quello che provo per l'America, e mi riferisco all'intero continente, è questo: qui non è mai nato niente di vitale... niente che abbia valore. A quanto mi è concesso determinare, niente mai comincerà da qui.

Fernanda Pivano, nella post-fazione del libro porno Opus Pistorum riporta le parole di Henry Miller:
"La ragione per cui ho parlato tanto del perverso, del brutto, dell'immorale e del crudele è che volevo si sapesse quanto importanti siano queste cose: importanti almeno quanto il bene."
È questa la base sulla quale Miller costruisce tutta la sua poetica e la sua filosofia, ed è un po' triste che ancora oggi i suoi romanzi, vecchi di 80 anni, vengano fraintesi.

Henry Miller gioca a ping pong, sua grande passione


*a proposito di Céline, in una lettera a Lawrence Durell, Miller dirà: "Ho appena terminato di leggere Morte a credito di Céline. Stranamente mi ci sono voluti più di due anni. Ho bighellonato per le ultime duecento pagine. Splendido, feroce. Penso davvero che sia il più grande scrittore oggi in vita. Dopo aver sconfitto le potenze dell’Asse, dovranno battere Céline: ha più dinamite lui di quanto ne abbia mai avuta Hitler."

[Bluebri · Rating 3 out of 5]

Entertaining read at first, I liked the pace and the characters care free demeanour but I did get bored throughout and the way he was addressing the women was a little off putting but whatever. It was cool.

[Ben McKeown · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great read, short but very humorous

[Hallie Fryd · Rating 5 out of 5]

Love Henry Miller but do not love how most of the women in this book are referred to simply as, "the c**t" or "that c**t"

[Ernest Hogan · Rating 5 out of 5]

A short, hilarious caricature of America . . . or is it a accurate portrait?

[Joanne McMahon · Rating 1 out of 5]

Did not actually finish it.

Sexist. ++++

So racist. ++++
Chinese, Jews, African Americans. Indiscriminate.

1930s. Presumably a product of its time.

Seems we have progressed somewhat.

[Alice. · Rating 4 out of 5]

"L'uomo felice si sazia di parole e di ispirazione come se scalasse una montagna o facesse una corsa. Alla fine delle sue traversate dell'inferno non è depresso. Ha il fiatone"

[Alessandro · Rating 5 out of 5]

Molto carina come lettera all'amico Alfred Perles! Si nota l'irriverenza di Miller, ma anche uno studio, seppur caotico, del mondo americano; un incubo ad aria condizionata.

[Olha T · Rating 5 out of 5]

i love him……my francophile teacher….

[Jeffrey Scheraga · Rating 3 out of 5]

Fun musings by miller

[Iain · Rating 5 out of 5]

Miller has a breezy writing style that tags you along for the journey. The travels in this recount span two separate trips: a short hop from Dieppe to Newhaven taken in 1934, and a longer stay in 1935 back to his home, the USA. His manner of writing is abrupt, colloquial and endearingly of its era. I gave it five stars because I couldn't fault it, not that I wanted to. I was a welcome companion on both trips.

[Peter Schutz]

americaphobic 🤮😡

[Felipe · Rating 3 out of 5]

Esta fue una relectura debido a mi primer viaje a Nueva York. El libro es tan geográfico que es muy interesante ubicar, aunque sea mentalmente, los lugares y recorridos que relata.

Tiene un formato estilo Divina Comedia. Empieza por lo más horrible (NY), luego un purgatorio intermedio (el viaje en barco) y, finalmente, el paraísmo (París). Sólo que se invierten los términos y lo más pulcro y ordenado termina siendo lo que más horror le genera al Miller.

Más allá de esa comparación con Dante, quizás exagerada, el libro, aunque pequeño, se vuelve aburrido por momentos.

Con respecto a la edición, es muy mala y la traducción imagino que también. La compré en algún lugar cuando empezó el trueque luego de la crisis de 2001

[Adam · Rating 4 out of 5]

Last read of 2017 done in NYC. Henry Miller's discussion of a trip back to New York from his beloved Paris, written as a letter to his friend Alfred Perlès. In it he describes with acerbic wit what he finds of the once great city, his distaste for what America has become including many uncomfortable anti-semitic remarks on the politic shift of the country. As ever with Miller the force of his writing is undeniable. It also includes a hilarious easy on a disastrous attempt at a trip to England.

[J · Rating 3 out of 5]

Actually didn't think the main letter was as good as the postscript. The style would have been fascinating, shocking and new at the time but I do feel it comes across as a bit of a pose. Oh, young author, how disaffected, how world-weary! But the final section, the afterthought, that's great.

[Pablo Paz · Rating 2 out of 5]

que pena con los que les guste pero que mamera de libro

[Oriana · Rating 3 out of 5]

Relato divertido y lleno de humor negro por Henry Miller hacia USA, sin embargo no deja de ser bastante irrelevante. Algo ligero para leer un par de días y ya.