La mia vita di uomo

Complete Nathan Zuckerman #0

by Philip Roth, Norman Gobetti (Translator)

Al cuore di La mia vita di uomo c'è il matrimonio di Peter e Maureen Tarnopol, un giovane scrittore e la donna che vorrebbe essere la sua musa ma è invece la sua nemesi. La loro unione si basa sulla frode ed è puntellata dal ricatto morale, ma è così perversamente duratura che, molto tempo dopo la morte di Maureen, Peter sta ancora cercando - inutilmente - di liberarsene attraverso la scrittura. Per mezzo di invenzioni disperate e verità cauterizzanti, atti di debolezza, di tenerezza e di scioccante crudeltà, Philip Roth crea un'opera degna di Strindberg: una tragedia di cecità e bisogno.

Genres: Fiction, Literature, Novels, American, Literary Fiction, Classics, The United States Of America

384 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1974

About the author

Philip Milton Roth was an American novelist and short-story writer. Roth's fiction—often set in his birthplace of Newark, New Jersey—is known for its intensely autobiographical character, for philosophically and formally blurring the distinction between reality and fiction, for its "sensual, ingenious style" and for its provocative explorations of American identity. He first gained attention with the 1959 short story collection Goodbye, Columbus, which won the U.S. National Book Award for Fiction. Ten years later, he published the bestseller Portnoy's Complaint. Nathan Zuckerman, Roth's literary alter ego, narrates several of his books. A fictionalized Philip Roth narrates some of his others, such as the alternate history The Plot Against America.
Roth was one of the most honored American writers of his generation. He received the National Book Critics Circle award for The Counterlife, the PEN/Faulkner Award for Operation Shylock, The Human Stain, and Everyman, a second National Book Award for Sabbath's Theater, and the Pulitzer Prize for American Pastoral. In 2005, the Library of America began publishing his complete works, making him the second author so anthologized while still living, after Eudora Welty. Harold Bloom named him one of the four greatest American novelists of his day, along with Cormac McCarthy, Thomas Pynchon, and Don DeLillo. In 2001, Roth received the inaugural Franz Kafka Prize in Prague.

Reviews

[Valeriu Gherghel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un roman foarte bun, publicat în 1974. Dacă „povestirle” lui Peter Tarnopol - care deschid romanul - nu sînt suficient de interesante, ceea ce urmează, „adevărata poveste” a cuplului Maureen - Peter, e demențială.

Ar trebui subliniat de la bun început: naratorul din Viața mea de bărbat NU este Philip Roth. Philip Roth nu este nici măcar un personaj din carte. Romanul se referă cu precizie numai și numai la un anume Peter Tarnopol, scriitor de oarecare succes (tocmai a debutat și a primit Prix de Rome al Academiei Americane de Arte și Litere), și la soția lui psihotică. Maureen Johnson din Elmira nu i-a distrus viața lui Philip Roth, ci - vă vine să credeți? - a transformat în iad viața sus-numitului Peter Tarnopol.

Nu știu dacă Maureen e o femeie simpatică. Mă tem că nu e. Este un personaj vădit bolnav, cu o înclinație înfricoșătoare spre autodistrugere, un vampir afectiv. Iar voința ei de moarte îl contaminează și pe narator. Dintre cei doi, Maureen este Stăpînul, ea domină „lupta”, ea dictează regulile cu o inventivitate absolut diabolică. Tarnopol e, mai degrabă, un individ slab, pasiv și deloc înzestrat pentru o luptă de uzură. De ce n-o părăsește imediat pe Maureen e imposibil de spus. Asta rămîne cea mai mare enigmă a romanului.

Nu spun că un astfel de mariaj (în care iubirea e înecată în ură) e neverosimill. Este cît se poate de verosimil și mai frecvent, probabil, decît ne închipuim. Un personaj feminin (cam 65 de ani) dintr-un film italian, „Mordi e fuggi”, afirma cu o înțeleaptă luciditate: „După căsătorie, scapă cine poate...”. Doar Dostoievski a prezentat la fel de convingător (în Idiotul, firește) o astfel de relație maladivă (Nastasia Filippovna - Rogojin), din care nici unul dintre parteneri nu poate ieși viu și teafăr la minte.

Probabil că Peter Tarnopol a fost iubit de zei. Dacă Maureen n-ar muri într-un accident de mașină, ar reuși pînă la urmă, nu am nici o îndoială, să-l distrugă.

[Dave Schaafsma · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this novel because I am reading all of Roth’s Nathan Zuckerman novels, and this is the eighth of ten for me. This is the first published, in 1974, though it sort of doesn’t quite qualify: In this book, Roth writes three different stories, two of them short stories in a section entitled “Useful Fictions;” one ,“Salad Days,” a comic story of a sexual romp featuring Zuck with several women, and the second, “Courting Disaster,“ also featuring Zuckerman with women, but far more serious. Two different versions/tones of a time spanning the years 1959-1966.

The last story frames the first two. Roth proposes that this story, entitled “My True Story,” and by far the longest of the three, is written by Peter Tarnapol, married to Maureen for three years and separated for several more years. It is a marriage in hell. All three stories depict Tarnapol/Zuckerman’s experiences with several women, most them (from his perspective, at least), seriously crazy, often suicidal. Zuckerman/Tarnapol is depicted as a writer who just wants to write, damn it (in the book he mostly writes checks, alimony checks) and to be with a woman who is as interestingly complex as the novels he loves. So he says. “I want a lover who won’t make me crazy.”

“My trouble in my middle twenties was that rich with confidence and success, I was not about to settle for complexity and depth in books alone. Stuffed to the gills with great fiction--entranced not by cheap romances, like Madame Bovary, but by Madame Bovary--I now expected to find in everyday experience that same sense of the difficult and the deadly earnest that informed the novels I admired so.”

He gets more than he bargained for. “Instead of serious fiction, I got soap opera.” Tarnapol/Zuckerman admits he as a young man has been arrogant, proud, selfish and unfaithful. But in the war between men and women Roth depicts in this book, though both drive each other crazy, men come off as saner and calmer. Consider the source!

Concerning women in the early 60s (p. 170): “. . . the great world was so obviously a man’s, it was only within marriage that an ordinary woman could hope to find equality and dignity. Indeed, we were led to believe by the defenders of womankind of our era that we were exploiting and degrading the women we didn’t marry, rather than the ones we did. Unattached and on her own, a woman was supposedly not even able to go to the movies or out to a restaurant by herself, let alone perform an appendectomy or drive a truck. It was up to us then to give them the value and the purpose that society at large withheld- by marrying them. If we didn’t marry women, who would? Ours, alas, was the only sex available for the job: the draft was on.”

The idea here in this meta-fictional approach is to show how fiction can be used in the process of making sense of one’s life, though it is always falls short:

“As far as I can see there is no conquering or exorcising the past with words--words born either of imagination or forthrightness.”

“Maybe all I’m saying is that words, being words, only approximate the real thing, and so no matter how close I come, I only come close.”

I won’t recount all the bitter battles and the endless parade of women. Though it is at times intended to be comic, it gets darker and darker, with Zuckerman/Tarnapol actually “driven to” beat up Maureen, who (how can I say it?) actually defecates in her pants during the process. Did we need to read this? There’s also an incest story, there’s Z/T sleeping with his undergraduate student, there’s multiple suicide attempts. How much relationship trauma can he or you take?

What is interesting is that in this book he playfully allows us to continue to ask a question early reviewers began to ask in his earliest fiction, is Zuckerman Roth? Whose version is the truth? Is it the fiction of the first section of the book, or “A True Story”? In the book Tarnapol’s brother, sister, wife and therapist all get to tell their versions of his marriage, in one way or the other. That’s interesting, and sounds fun, right? Tarnapol reference Flaubert as an influence, especially in Madame Bovary for its writing about anguished, screwed-up relationships. My Life as a Man has the Flaubertian spirit in places, for sure, but it’s an early book, not nearly up to that level.

I may have actually read this or started to read this in my twenties, encouraged by the hilarious Portnoy’s Complaint and Goodbye, Columbus. But the gloves are off here, the bloom is off the rose, and the tunnel of love is suddenly longer and darker (sorry, three metaphors in one sentence might be too much, eh?). Roth is surely one hell of a writer, but the later Zuckerman stories such as American Pastoral and I Married a Communist and the Human Stain were better written and more satisfying. This one features bitterness, rancor, ugliness, mental illness. Don’t start here, but do read him.

[Lobstergirl · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was nearing the end and set to give this extremely autobiographical novel, the twelfth by Roth that I have read, two stars - not exactly respectable, but short of "running out to the dumpster now to burn this."

Then Roth caused his fictional wife to crap her pants - in the middle of a scene in which she is already getting the crap beat out of her by her husband.

"The smell had spread around us before I saw the turds swelling the seat of her panties."

Is it images like this that explain Roth's lack of a Nobel medal? Or is it that Roth only writes one genre - autobiography? Or maybe that Roth only writes and rewrites one book?

It's not even that a pants-crapping character is the worst thing that could happen in a novel. Just that everything herein seemed so unnecessary, from the bitterness, the rancor, the misogyny, to the misandry, the ugliness, the mental illness, the psychiatric sessions, the Freudiness, the Rothiness. Who's to say if I would have the same reaction were this the first, or the second, Roth book I had read. But it's the twelfth. And it would be hard to find a book that more perfectly encapsulates the idea "I never want to read something just like this again."

[Veronica · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Viața mea de bărbat" este un roman realist inspirat din viața de cuplu și pentru care Philip Roth a fost acuzat de misoginism. Violență, nevroză, sex, poveste în poveste, dar și
referinţele cu trimitere la Flaubert, Dostoievski, Mauriac, Rousseau, Faulkner, fac din acest roman unul dificil de urmărit.

[Fală Victor · Rating 5 out of 5]

În primul rând, romanul ‘’Viața mea de bărbat’’ a lui Phillip Roth e o lecție de literatură. O lecție faină, o lecție motivantă, cum rar mi s-a întâmplat să asist la asemenea pe la Creangă.
Mai târziu, romanul mi-a permis sau mai bine zis, m-a făcut să mă autoanalizez într-o oarecare măsură(deși n-am priceput nici așa prea multe), de parcă aș fi asistat la audiențele psihologului împreună cu domnul Tarnopol, personajul nostru principal.
Viața lui de bărbat, pentru că și-o căuta cu lumânarea - bărbăția. Un bărbat în toată firea parcă, frumos, înțelept, un scriitori cu mari perspective și un succes de invidiat la femei, dar bărbăția adevărată îl ocolea, sau doar i se părea de după masca de ‘’Gargantua al amorului propriu’’ cum se autointitula personajul.
Căsnicia lui cu Maureen e un adevărat film bolywood, nu credeam că o să zic așa ceva despre vreo carte de-a lui Roth. Dar nu vreau să o devalorizez, nu-nu. Ideea e că totul se întâmplă într-o manieră absolut imprevizibilă, evenimentele se suprapun și se depășesc - depășindu-te (ca cititor).
Încerci să cauți nebunul și nu știi care-i el. Or nu tu ești acela înebunit? De la început s-ar părea că Maureen e laureata Șîzic Of The Year, apoi simți că și domnul Peter e bolnăvior săracull. Pe parcurs, s-a văzut că ambii mergea la psiholog, ambii sufereau de câte ceva. Dar Roth nu a pierdut ocazia să ni-i arate și pe psihologi puțin pe-o fază.
Ceea ce mă fascinează la Roth, observând aceasta și în alte cărți (a se citi ‘’Pata umană’’), caracterizând un personaj, indiferent cum o face, Phillip Roth ne face să-l urâm sau cel puțin să ne vină să-i tragem o palmă la ureche nesimțitului, psihopatului, debilului; ca mai apoi să ni-i scoată basma curată din toată încâlceala.
Frumosul acestui roman se mai ascunde și în faptul că ne prezintă ‘’ficțiunea în ficțiune’’.
Se începe acesta cu două nuvele scrise de domnul Tarnopol, despre un scriitor, profesor și lup nărăvaș în turma de oi, ceea ce-l și descrie oarecum. Menționând despre faptul că scrie despre un scriitor, apare al treilea cuvânt ficțiune în șir (ficțiune în ficțiune în ficțiune).
Tarnopol scrie despre sine și despre peripețiile sale prin viață și e bine publicat în reviste și la edituri. Dar îi rămân problemele în afara scrierii. Chiar dacă cineva moare, rămâne el cu sine însuși.

[Sandra · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Bisogna sempre fare le cose nel modo giusto. Farle nel modo sbagliato, figliolo, non ha alcun senso!



Peter Tarnopol è un giovane scrittore emergente figlio amatissimo di orgogliosi genitori ebrei. La storia ruota intorno al suo matrimonio non voluto con Maureen, reduce da due matrimoni falliti, una psicopatica che occuperà, provocando devastazioni e disastri, la vita di Tarnopol, per renderla la “vita di uomo di Maureen”, non più figlio amato, scrittore emergente, fratello affettuoso, professore preparato di letteratura inglese, ma soltanto … marito di Maureen travolto da lei e con lei nella nevrosi e infine nella follia. Come al solito Roth ci fa riflettere, ci chiediamo, insieme col professor Tarnopol, quale sia la radice di questo insano e torbido rapporto: lui, per poter vederci chiaro, scrive due racconti con protagonista Nathan Zuckerman, che raccontano la sua adolescenza e poi le nozze di Zuckerman con Lydia, anch’essa una psicopatica, reduce da un matrimonio fallito con una figlia a carico, una donna priva di qualsiasi attrattiva per il professor Zuckerman. Può essere il forte narcisismo di Tarnopol nato dall’ansia di castrazione suscitata dalla madre nell’infanzia, dalla quale il giovane si è difeso coltivando un forte senso della propria superiorità, la convinzione di essere un uomo speciale e come tale di doversi comportare in modo eccezionale, sottomettendosi senza ribellione alla follia di Maureen? Questa è la tesi sostenuta dal dottor Spielvogel, lo psicoterapeuta che lo cura (che convince proprio poco). O non è forse spiegabile con il forte senso del dovere che i genitori gli hanno instillato, che lo ha spinto a fare la cosa giusta, cioè sposare quella donna derelitta, senza una famiglia alle spalle, abbandonata dai suoi primi due mariti, che ha sempre dovuto cavarsela da sola nella vita? “Non c’è nulla cui io tenga di più che la mia reputazione morale” dice Peter Tarnopol ad una giovane studentessa del suo corso di inglese, con la quale ha iniziato una relazione per disintossicarsi dalla tossica relazione con Maureen, con in sottofondo un tono di compiacimento perché la sua vita somiglia tanto ad uno dei drammi letterari letti con gli studenti. Così che il fallimento della sua vita matrimoniale rappresenta la sconfitta sia dell’uomo che dello scrittore.
Non è il Roth di Pastorale americana e de La macchia umana, ma è pur sempre un immenso Roth.

[MJ Nicholls · Rating 4 out of 5]

This took me an absolute age to read—waking diversions of a connubial bent in the main—a prolongation that turned out to be apt for such an exhausting and relentless churn of a novel. One of Roth’s more postmodern efforts, the novel’s first third comprises a fictional retelling of the fictional events that follow (events in themselves autobiographical to Philip), creating a pleasing trireme of slippery bifography. The story itself, to mangle Beckett, serves up a screed of scowls, growls, curses, howls, snores, and yawns between the two Roth-as-narrators trapped in vicious neurotic warfare with an obsessive and vindictive non-ex-wife, a rollicking exploratory plunder of unhinged and unquiet minds with their incipient madnesses cranked up to eleven. A sensory assault that captures the cruelty and poison between man and woman when love fizzles into loathing. Not recommended.

[Lyubov · Rating 4 out of 5]

Тежка обсесия и взиране в себе си до пълно замъгляване на разсъдъка. Разбирам защо на много хора не им допада, но на мен ми хареса. Чудя се какво ли говори това за моето собствено съзнание :)

Така да обичам аромата на нова литературна любов рано сутрин.

[Galina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Все още ми е трудно да асимилирам съдържанието - струва ми се, че всичко, което ми е попадало до момента от Рот е детска приказка, в сравнение с този роман. Отне ми доста време да го завърша, но четенето му не е лесно - като се започне от двата начални разказа, премине се през прекалено откровените разкрития на главния герой, безкрайните препратки към всички други писатели и техни произведения, за да се стигне до финала, до този финал!

Рот не случайно е определян за съвременен класик, колкото и претенциозно и клиширано да звучи това. Факт е, че успява да изпипа историите си прецизно и детайлно, че рови с такава бясна жестокост в главите на образите си, за да ни сблъска със страхове, разочарования, лудост, отритнатост, неспособност за интеграция във всеки следващ ден и още, и още и още. Факт е, че борави еднакво добре с иронията и автоиронията и тези му любими изразни средства са най-мощното оръжие, което насочва към читателите, за да ги изправи сами пред себе си.

"Животът ми като мъж" всъщност не е роман за мъжеството. Това са почти 400 страници - наръчник по оцеляване, но не и наръчник по съхраняване. Не е и роман за отношенията на един мъж с жените - въпреки че задната корица е толкова категорична по темата - твърде повърхностно и неточно е да се твърди това; роман е за отношението и липсата на отношение на един мъж към самия него.
А, че всички сме на сантиметри от лудостта и нерядко и прекрачваме към нея, за Рот е кристално ясно. В което, явно, няма нищо чак толкова странно и притеснително. Стига да имаме волята да си признаем.

"Проблемът ми, когато бях на двадесет и няколко години, беше, че самоувереността и успехът ме караха да търся сложност и дълбочина не само в книгите. Натъпкан до гуша с велики произведения - очарован не само от евтини любовни истории като госпожа Бовари, а от "Мадам Бовари", - аз очаквах да открия в ежедневието същото чувство за трудното и смъртоносно сериозното, за което четях в книгите, на които най-много се възхищавах. Моделът ми на действителност, извлечен от класиците, винаги следваше неумолимия си ход. И ето я сега действителността, неумолима, непокорна и (в допълнение) по-ужасна от най-ужасната, която съм си пожелавал и в най-литературните си мечти...
... Искаш сложност? Трудност? Безизходица? Искаш смъртоносна сериозност? Имаш я!"

[Boris · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book makes me reconsider every other work of literary fiction I have rated with 5*.

Тази книга е толкова добра, че ме кара да преоценя рейтинга на всички книги, на които съм давал оценка 5/5 преди нея.

Преди всичко това е книга за войната между 10-годишното момче и възмъжаването на 20-и-няколко-годишния-мъж и обратното: войната между 24-годишният мъж и детето, което е бил, преди да "възмъжее" според стандартите, наложени от семейство, общество ( разнищени безпощадно от Рот).

"Животът ми като мъж" описва една такава война и ми е много трудно да я опиша, защото в концвенционалния смисъл на понятието кръв и черва биха свършили работа, но тук сериозно съм затруднен с техния еквивалент.

Чел съм експериментални творби, обаче това e едно от най-дръзките и самонадеяни неща, на които съм попадал. Страхотен Рот.

[Petya · Rating 5 out of 5]

WTF?!?

Една от безспорно най-откачените книги, които съм чела. И в същото време притежава изключителна, несравнима аналитична дълбочина. Ярък пример за съвременна белетристика от най-разюздан вид.

Изобщо не бях се докоснала до същността на "лудостта" във "Възмущение" на Филип Рот. Но тази книга ме изуми по всички показатели. Велика!

[AlbertoD · Rating 4 out of 5]

Il matrimonio di Peter Tarnopol e Maureen Johnson si è appena concluso, dopo tre anni di convivenza e quattro di separazione, con la morte violenta e improvvisa di lei. È stata un’unione disastrosa, fallimentare, fondata sull’inganno, il ricatto e la manipolazione.
E che può fare lo scrittore Peter, afflitto da sensi di colpa e ancora ossessionato dal fantasma della moglie, se non ricorrere alla scrittura per raccontare la sua vita, in un tentativo di “demistificare il passato e mitigare il suo poco encomiabile senso di sconfitta”, e provare a comprendere come la vita di un uomo così brillante (laureato summa cum laude e giovane promessa letteraria) abbia potuto prendere una piega tanto perversa ed umiliante?
La mia vita di uomo è appunto il risultato del tentativo di Peter di “trasformare in arte la sua disastrosa vita”. La prima parte del romanzo (“Utili finzioni”) si compone di due racconti il cui protagonista, nelle vesti di alter ego di Peter, è Nathan Zuckerman (lo stesso che diventerà poi il celebre alter ego letterario di Roth, e che, in questo romanzo del 1974, fa la sua prima comparsa in assoluto). Utilizzando, distorcendo e attribuendo a Nathan elementi della propria vita, Peter ne racconta l’infanzia, l’adolescenza, gli anni della formazione universitaria e, infine, il complicato matrimonio con Lydia (alter ego di Maureen).
La seconda parte (“La mia vera storia”) è invece il resoconto presumibilmente veriterio, in quanto raccontato da Peter in prima persona, del matrimonio con Maureen; della lunga e dolorosa causa di separazione; della relazione (anch’essa problematica) con Susan; e del percorso di psicoanalisi con il dottor Spielgovel (interessante come lo psicanalista sia lo stesso che compare nel più noto Lamento di Portnoy).
Ma si sa che non si può leggere Philp Roth senza dar conto della sua biografia. Il romanzo è fortemente autobiografico (Roth attinge a piene mani dal fallimentare matrimonio con Margaret Martinson). Pertanto, se il Nathan Zuckerman della prima parte del libro è alter ego di Peter Tarnopol, il Peter Tarnopol della seconda parte si può benissimo considerare una sorta di alter ego dello stesso Roth.
Finzione nella finzione dunque, esperimento letterario (come Roth ne farà altri nella sua carriera, si pensi alla Controvita), e riflessione sul potere della letteratura di spiegare e dare un senso a una vita altrimenti incomprensibile. Ma il romanzo è anche un attento ritratto del giovane ebreo-americano nato negli anni Trenta, educato e cresciuto negli anni Quaranta, e maturato come uomo adulto negli anni Cinquanta, con le aspettative e convenzioni sociali dell’America di quegli anni.
La scrittura è sempre quella travolgente, sardonica e fluida, marchio distintivo dello scrittore.

[Ned · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was 10 when this was published in 1970, oblivious to the tumult of the late 60s and entirely ignorant of what it meant to be Jewish, much less and American Jew, 25 years post WWII. This was the backdrop of the novel, and I loved Roth’s description of the history and gestalt of that time and place. The years 1959-1966 are covered, a time of interest to me being born in that timeframe. The plot was chaotic at first, but I came to see the genius of being pulled back and forth in time. Roth started with 2 novels which, as it turned out, were published stories of the protagonist, Peter, and then the end, where he is writing alone in a retreat in Vermont, recovering from the attempted suicide of his estranged girlfriend. (the Zuckerman connection is that he is the character in these two different stories, so not a true relative of Roth’s later series). It appears that Peter has had a bad streak of luck with women, a hysterically failed marriage to Maureen who dies in a mysterious accident after, herself, attempting suicide. Peter, at first seems the put-upon victim of bad luck, an up and coming novelist of his time. Roth cleverly reveals to the reader very gradually, almost imperceptively, that our protagonist is a deeply flawed, sociopathic narcissist with mommy issues. The violence, passive and outright physical, mount to the point where I was actively cheering against him and his petty, ridiculous attempts to justify his increasingly neurotic and bizarre reactions. Many times his escape door is presented, and his long suffering family and friends beg him to walk through it. He seems himself as an artiste, highly principled and “right”. Roth neatly exposes this through the voices of others. Peter gets more than he deserves, yet stubbornly continues to torture those around him. In the end, he remains irresolutely committed to his tortured ways. I expected no less of Roth, and this is why I love his excellent writing – it is real and does not seek tidy endings. Becoming a “man” in this era, and with the changing role of women, is very much the conflict and not resolved.

The “war” between men and women is starkly intense as this written at a time (1970) just before women’s liberation became a movement. The fights here are intense and the bitter beyond all my imaginings.

Roth’s character exposes are incredibly deep, and reminiscent of the protagonist’s heroes (Flaubert, Dostoevsky). Here is a character of one of the protagonist Peter’s stories (p. 33): “No, I did not marry for conventional reasons; no one can accuse me of that. It was not for fear of loneliness that I chose my wife, or to have “a helpmate,” or a cook, or a companion in my old age, and it certainly was not out of lust. No matter what they may say about me now, sexual desire had nothing to do with it. To the contrary: thosgh she was a pretty enough woman- square, strong Nordic head; resolute blue eyes that I thought of admiringly as “wintry”; straight wheat-colored hair worn in bangs; a handsome smile; an appealing, openhearted laugh- her short, hevy-legged body struct me as very nearly dwarfish in its proportions and was, from first to last, unremittingly distasteful. Her gain in particular displeased me: mannish, awkward, it took on a kind of rolling quality when she tried to move quickly, and in my mind associated with images of cowhands and merchant seamen. Watching her run to meet me on some Chicago street- after we had become lovers- I would positively recoil, even at a distance, at the prospect of holding that body against me, at the idea that voluntarily I had made her mine.”

Concerning women in the early 60s (p. 170): “…the great world was so obviously a man’s, it was only within marriage that an ordinary woman could hope to find equality and dignity. Indeed, we were led to believe by the defenders of womankind of our era that we were exploiting and degrading the women we didn’t marry, rather than the ones we did. Unattached and on her own, a woman was supposedly not even able to go to the movies or out to a restaurant by herself, let alone perform an appendectomy or drive a truck. It was up to us then to give them the value and the purpose that society at large withheld- by marrying them. If we didn’t marry women, who would? Ours, alas, was the only sex available for the job: the draft was on.”

The bitterness created before the age of no-fault divorce, often trapped men, or our narrator believes (p. 172): “The extent of the panic and rage aroused by the issue of alimony, the ferocity displayed by people who were otherwise sane and civilized enough, testifies, I think, to the shocking- and humiliating- realization that came to couples in the courtroom about the fundamental role that each may actually have played in the other’s life.”

Here’s the brother, talking about Peter’s non-Jewish wife (p. 190): “For the record, the mother’s family was Irish, the father’s German. She looks a little Apache to me, with those eyes and that hair. There’s something savage there… you weren’t brought up for savagery, kid.”

Peter, accused of being estranged from reality by his love of books, reminisces (p. 195): “My trouble in my middle twenties was that rich with confidence and success, I was not about to settle for complexity and depth in books alone. Stuffed to the gills with great fiction- entranced not by cheap romances, like Madame Bovary, but by Madame Bovary- I now expected to find in everyday experience that same sense of the difficult and the deadly earnest that informed the novels I admired so.”

This is great writing, sometimes to effusive, but brilliant nonetheless and very powerfully written. There is so much ground covered here, and a great deal of color and spirals of interesting sidelights, that I once again am in awe of this great American writer. Much I’m sure is autobiographical, as the novel itself is intertwined biographies – it is hard to know where the branch and circle back. Much of this is confessional, where Peter’s poor analyst must endure the intellectual challenges of his most difficult subject, our narrator, perhaps our author Roth himself.

[Grazia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ricorsivo

Il romanzo si compone:
1) di due racconti il cui protagonista è Nathan Zuckerman, alter ego di Roth;
2) del romanzo vero e proprio in cui il protagonista è Peter Tarnapol o meglio il rapporto tra Peter e la moglie Maureen .

I racconti di cui al punto 1) sono, nella finzione letteraria, la modalità che usa Peter per meglio comprendere ciò che­­­­ sta dietro il conflittualissimo rapporto con la moglie Maureen.

Quindi Roth, scrittore, scrive di uno scrittore (Peter) che, come Roth stesso, ha un rapporto problematico con la moglie. Per riuscire a guardarsi dentro, scrive due racconti in cui il protagonista è Zuckerman alter ego di Roth ...

Ok, ho fatto sufficiente casino?

Insomma l'intreccio non è facile, forse più difficile da dire in sintesi che da leggere , anche se all'inizio sono stata parecchio spaesata.
Sì... succede proprio così, leggi e incameri particolari, sperando (tra dettagli anche abbastanza trucidi e a volte oggettivamente un po' disgustosi) di avere la rivelazione, l'epifania che svela il senso del romanzo.

E, ad un certo punto, la 'sudden revelation of truth', arriva... inaspettata.... e chi era carnefice, all'improvviso diventa vittima e chi era vittima appare anche carnefice.
Il dominio sull'altro, il comando nella coppia, se non riesce secondo i ruoli istituzionali, in mancanza dell'auspicato equilibrio, provoca reazioni al limite, in cui il dominio, non potendo avvenire attraverso una personalità che dominante non è, viene affermato con la forza bruta (che orrore!).

Chi sembrava carnefice si rivela alla fine essere una donna innamorata (donna oggettivamente molto molto particolare e problematica eh! - ["le bugie sono la forma che il tuo dolore assume"]), che vuol essere amata semplicemente per quello che è e non per quello che rappresenta nella testa di un artista pure un po' bacato, con un ego bello pieno, che ha la necessità di avere al fianco una persona che, per amor suo, arrivi a gesti estremi e che, nel contempo, lo asserva.

["Un opinione sempre più diffusa afferma che perlopiù i matrimoni, le relazioni e in generale i contratti sessuali vengono imposti da padroni in cerca di schiave: c'è chi domina e chi viene sottomesso, chi maltratta e chi accondiscende, chi sfrutta e chi viene sfruttato. Ciò che tale formula non riesce a spiegare, fra milioni di altre cose, è perchè così tanti fra i "padroni" appaiono essere in uno stato di servitù, spesso a beneficio delle loro "schiave"]

Quindi la ricorsività dell'intreccio si viene a ritrovare nella ricorsività "senza soluzione di felicità" del rapporto tra Peter e Maureen.

[Ryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

After years of trying to tell (in his view) the definitive story of his disastrous first marriage and its messy dissolution, Philip Roth finally hit paydirt with My Life as a Man, which marks both the debut of his soon-to-be famous author-standin character Nathan Zuckerman and his initial foray into the sort of postmodern, metatextual writing that would become his bread and butter in the latter half of the 80s and first half of the 90s with works like The Counterlife and Operation Shylock. Here, though My Life as a Man marks a drastic improvement over some of what he'd been doing since Portnoy's Complaint (namely the dreadful political satire Our Gang and the sporadically hilarious and compelling but wildly uneven The Great American Novel), the central conceit of Roth-like novelist "Peter Tarnopol" first fictionalizing and then revealing the truth of the drama of his marriage feels a bit clunky at times, with the piece's origins as a number of false starts being readily apparent in the way that the first two "Useful Fictions" sections feel very much like the cast-off attempts that they were. Nonetheless, its issues of overall coherence notwithstanding, it's obvious for much of the book-- particularly the "true story" section almost in its entirety-- that Roth is locked in and engaged with this material and writing with an intensity that we haven't seen from him since Portnoy; though I think his kafkaesque novella The Breast is a very good book, even there he felt like a writer trying on an identity that didn't fit snugly, whereas here, working with this material that affected him so deeply and colored his character and life ever after so markedly, he's back to writing penetrating, searing material that gets at the very nature of troubled male-female relationships and feels like a less humorous but still occasionally painfully funny continuation of the tack he took in Portnoy. Like the Flaubert-inspired When She was Good and the masterful Letting Go, I think My Life as a Man is one of the lesser known Roth works that is worthy of (re)discovery.

[Ubik 2.0 · Rating 4 out of 5]

La vita vera e le sue varianti

Romanzo per rothiani incalliti, “La mia vita di uomo” è conseguentemente sconsigliabile per un primo approccio all’autore.

Si tratta infatti di un’opera in cui la linearità del racconto è ripetutamente deviata, contraddetta, frammentata da digressioni, salti temporali e riflessioni, tanto che a volte sembra che Roth si stia quasi esercitando a sviluppare la narrazione in diversi modi, sperimentando varianti, personaggi e situazioni, facendo addirittura precedere il romanzo (“la mia vera storia”) da due “racconti” attribuiti a Peter Tarnopol, lo scrittore protagonista, che vanno a rimestare, pur con un diverso approccio, nelle medesime vicende pseudo biografiche. Fra Zuckerman protagonista dei racconti, Tarnopol e Roth stesso viene così a instaurarsi un complesso e caleidoscopico gioco di specchi e di rimandi che confonde e affascina il lettore nello stesso tempo.

Messi da parte questi artifici letterari, al centro di tutto resta un grumo doloroso e ossessivo rappresentato dal rapporto impossibile fra “la vita di uomo” di Tarnopol/Zuckerman e le donne, soprattutto la moglie Maureen, personaggio distruttivo e autodistruttivo quant’altri mai, al punto di suscitare nel controllato e civile romanziere espliciti propositi omicidi. Con una delle magie proprie dell’affabulazione ineguagliabile di Roth, il racconto a tratti si libera della cappa di angoscia e risentimento che opprime Tarnopol e diviene addirittura comico, o meglio tragicomico, come nei duetti/duelli verbali con lo psichiatra, ineffabile personaggio dotato di un arsenale dialettico in grado di tener testa al difficile paziente /romanziere.

Insomma, un calderone di profonde riflessioni e di affilata autoironia, a volte faticoso e soffocante eppure commovente e coinvolgente, premonitore dello stile cui Roth, nelle opere scritte in età matura, saprà conferire una struttura più solida e un’andatura più controllata, anche se c’è chi preferisce, ritenendolo più sincero e genuino, questo Philip Roth irresistibilmente caotico, con le sue circonvoluzioni descrittive e le sue “ripartenze” in corso di narrazione.

[Phil Berdecio · Rating 4 out of 5]

Peter Tarnopol (who may or may not be Philip Roth) has some problems. On the one hand, there's his wife, a chronic liar who spends all her time arguing with him yet refuses to divorce him. On the other hand, there's his tendency to create problems for himself. Tarnopol seems to thrive on conflict as much as he suffers from it. Although he all but admits this to himself, he still seems bewildered by the whole thing.

In part, as he realizes, his difficulties stem from his "literary" frame of mind, from his tendency to approach a problem as if he were a character in a novel confronting a grave moral quandary of profound significance. As a writer, Tarnopol is staunch realist, but he romanticizes and over-dramatizes his own problems. As a result he exacerbates them, stoking the flames of conflict to make his life more like that of a fictional character -- which of course it is.

When Tarnopol's marriage really begins to fall apart, he turns to a psychoanalyst, the ludicrous Dr. Spielvogel, whose sessions with the protagonist make for some of the books funnier moments.

So how much of all this is autobiographical? If Roth has taken any significant proportion of it from his real life, then he has done so with a sly sense of good humor about how comical one's actions can appear in hindsight. The fact that the book begins with two of Tarnopol's own semi-autobiographical short stories both provides another metafictional layer and, perhaps, in the discrepancy between the stories and Tarnopol's autobiography, gives us some clues as to how much Tarnopol's life deviates from Roth's. Whatever the case, if there's any of Roth's own story in this book, then he gives it to us with plenty of self-deprecation, while stopping well short of outright self-flagellation.

[Jack M · Rating 3 out of 5]

So I’m reading this nightly on my floor mattress, a library copy stained beautifully yellow from age, and I just can’t get enough. The guy is raving mad, and every night I can’t wait to read about how fucked up he is. The sheer enjoyment leads me to several thoughts. Do I relish this, because it makes me feel good about how relatively less fucked up my life is to his? Please tell me you’re like me, in that when your head hits the pillow at night, you are equally pondering how off the rails your life is? Cause if you are, then this is for you. Then there’s the choice of career. If I enjoy it so much, have I not missed a calling in being a therapist? Questions abound.

The domestic violence levels are certainly disturbing and flat out the ugliest I’ve read in literature. While it is funny, amusing, and interesting when an author like Thomas Bernhard directs all his hate towards the country of Austria, it is less so when Roth condenses his hate into a singularity aimed at a woman; his ex-wife apparently.

For all the praise Roth receives, with this one it’s easy to see why he equally has many detractors.

[Monica Co · Rating 5 out of 5]

Roth at his best: ironic, sharp, cynical. The book deals with the typical Roth's themes: the difficult relations with women, hebraism and the writer's ego.
The narrative scheme is brilliant: the first two chapters are two short stories written by the author who is the protagonist of the following chapters.
The writing style, as usual, is amazingly polished.

[Chiara · Rating 4 out of 5]

o la letteratura esercita un'influenza troppo forte sulla mia idea della vita, oppure non sono in grado di stabilire una relazione fra la sua saggezza e la mia esistenza.

[Evyn Charles · Rating 5 out of 5]

As always, reading Philip Roth is not "entertainment" for me. I often find myself having to take a break, a long walk or find something to completely distract me for a while.
The author uses various characters that speak in the first person; it appears that they are thinly disguised versions of himself. Actually, they are mostly fiction but sometimes "inspired" by events in his own life. Sometimes, he tells similar stories from the POV of different characters, which include variations on a theme.
Until I read the description of the main character's marriage to (Lydia/Maureen in this book/Lucy in When She Was Good), I thought nobody could ever fathom the kind of person I had been married to. It is shocking to discover the similarities between our circumstances but at least I know I wasn't imagining things!
The protagonist is a creative writer, serious about his craft, well-respected and starting to achieve success. He is not willing to "settle" for girls who seemingly are perfect for him but are too predictable/boring. However, he is not prepared for the minefield he walks into with the lying and deceitful damaged woman that ends up becoming his wife.
At any rate, this is not light reading but IMHO another masterpiece.

[Bobparr · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mar-12: Un po' indispettito dalla cronologia delle traduzioni (tali per cui mi trovo a leggere ora la prima apparizione di Zuckerman dopo che ne ho gia' letta l'ultima) non posso tuttavia che scivolare lietamente tra questi dialoghi e questa New York cosi' cinematografica - almeno, nella mia immaginazione. Non c'e' trama da salvare; non rimango piacevolmente stupito dagli intrecci dei tre racconti: dal meta-intreccio tra i tre racconti invece si'. Una bella capacita': ma d'altronde, lo si sapeva gia'. Altro tassello dell'opera omnia di Roth, da accostare agli altri, con sempre sommo piacere.
***
Mag-25: più frammentata questa seconda lettura, un po’ mi sono annoiato per la psicanalizzazione spinta di molte parti - ma d’altronde l’autore di questo tratta - e per questa sessualità sempre sopra le righe. Sesso, psiche e New York, sembra di essere in un film di Woody Allen ma senza risate. Capacità di scrittura, uso del linguaggio, incastri meta-narrativi di primissimo ordine, quelli non invecchiano mai.

[Ourania Topa · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 αστεράκια
Μπορεί η συγγραφή της Λογοτεχνίας να λειτουργεί ως αυτο-ψυχανάλυση και αυτο-θεραπεία και ταυτόχρονα το προϊόν της συγγραφής αυτής να λειτουργεί προς όφελος και δόξα της υψηλής αυτής τέχνης;
Μπορεί! και βέβαια μπορεί, απαντά ο Philipp Roth στη ΖΩΗ ΜΟΥ ΩΣ ΑΝΤΡΑ, ένα μυθιστόρημα πού μόνο από το δικό του μυαλό και τη δική του πένα θα μπορούσε να προκύψει!
Την ίδια απάντηση δίνω ανεπιφύλακτα και εγώ, αφού ολοκλήρωσα την ανάγνωσή του.
Λοιπόν προσέξτε: στο συγκεκριμένο βιβλίο ο αμερικανοεβραίος συγγραφέας και πανεπιστημιακός δάσκαλος Philipp Roth χρησιμοποιεί ως κεντρικό ήρωα έναν αμερικανοεβραίο συγγραφέα και πανεπιστημιακό δάσκαλο, τον Πήτερ Τάρνοπολ, ο οποίος προσπαθεί να αφηγηθεί την προσωπική του ιστορία μέσω ενός μυθοπλαστικού ήρωα ονόματι Νάθαν Ζούκερμαν (ναι! ο ήρωας της Τριλογίας Ζούκερμαν Δεσμώτης), που επίσης είναι αμερικανοεβραίος συγγραφέας και πανεπιστημιακός δάσκαλος!
Και οι τρεις, ο Ροθ, το προσωπείο του ο Τάρνοπολ και το προσωπείο του προσωπείου του ο Ζούκερμαν, αποπειρώνται δια της συγγραφής να αυτοψυχαναλυθούν και να αυτοθεραπευτούν από έναν εφιαλτικό και αταίριαστο γάμο (1959-1963) και από τις περαιτέρω δικαστικές περιπέτειες, οι οποίες πήραν τέλος με το τροχαίο δυστύχημα στο οποίο σκοτώθηκε η σύζυγος και διάδικος (1968).
Τόσο ο Ροθ όσο και τα δύο προσωπεία του, πριν ακόμα κλείσουν τα τριάντα, ζουν μια τραυματική εμπειρία που αρχικά τους κρατά μακριά από τη συγγραφή και υπό την παρακολούθηση ενός επαγγελματία ψυχαναλυτή, στη συνέχεια όμως επιστρέφουν στη συγγραφή μέσω της οποίας επιδιώκουν να ξανασκεφτούν τη ζωή τους και να εντοπίσουν τους λόγους για τους οποίους, και οι τρεις, οδηγήθηκαν σε έναν γάμο με μια γυναίκα που δεν αγαπούσαν!
Θεραπεία από μια τραυματική εμπειρία δια της Λογοτεχνίας και προς δόξαν της Λογοτεχνίας , αλλά - εδώ θα μπορούσα να προσθέσω - από μια τραυματική εμπειρία στην οποία ο συγγραφέας οδηγήθηκε εξαιτίας της τριβής του με τη Μεγάλη Λογοτεχνία: Φλωμπέρ, Μαν, Φώκνερ, Γουλφ, Μάνσφηλντ και πολλοί άλλοι αναφέρονται επανειλημμένα.
Η τελευταία παρατήρηση χρήζει μεγάλης ανάλυσης, αλλά ας μην σας κουράσω... Κλείνω λοιπόν τους λογαριασμούς μου με αυτό το βιβλίο αντιγράφοντας ένα αγαπημένο μου απόσπασμα, ελπίζω αρκετά διαφωτιστικό αυτών που θέλησα να πω:
Μάλιστα, η κατάσταση όπου βρισκόμουν μπλεγμένος ήταν μαύρη κι ανελέητη, σαν κι αυτές για τις οποίες είχα διαβάσει στη λογοτεχνία, σαν κι αυτές που μπορεί να είχε ο Τόμας Μαν κατά νου όταν έγραφε σ' ένα αυτοβιογραφικό κείμενο τη φράση που είχα ήδη επιλέξει ως μια από τις πιο δυσοίωνες προμετωπίδες για το Ένας Εβραίος πατέρας: "Πάντα η πραγματικότητα είναι αφόρητα σοβαρή, και η ίδια η ηθική μαζί με τη ζωή δεν μας αφήνει να μείνουμε πιστοί στην άδολη χιμαιρικότητα της νιότης μας".
Τότε μου φαινόταν πως έπαιρνα μια ηθική απόφαση, σαν κι αυτές για τις οποίες είχα ακούσει τόσα πολλά στα μαθήματα λογοτεχνίας στο κολλέγιο. Αλλά τι διαφορετικά που ήταν στα φοιτητιικά μου χρόνια, όταν όλα αυτά συνέβαιναν στον Λορδο Τζιμ και στην Κέητ Κρόυ και στον Ιβάν Καραμαζώφ, αντί να συμβαίνουν σε μένα. Α, κι αν δεν είχα γίνει αυθεντία στα διλήμματα στο μάθημα του τελευταίου μου έτους! Εάν δεν είχα ερωτευτεί τόσο παράφορα εκείνα τα περίπλοκα πεζογραφήμα ηθικής αγωνίας, ίσως να μην είχα κάνει ποτέ εκείνη τη μεγάλη βόλτα ίσαμε το Άππερ Ηστ Σάιντ και πάλι πίσω, γεμάτος άγχος, και να μην είχα ποτέ καταλήξει σ' αυτό που φάνταζε στα μάτια μου ως η μοναδική "έντιμη" απόφαση που θα μπορούσε να πάρει ένας νεαρός τέτοιας "σοβαρής" ηθικής όπως ήμουν εγώ. Απ' την άλλη βέβαια, δεν έχω την πρόθεση να αποδώσω την άγνοιά μου στους δασκάλους μου, ή τις αυταπάτες μου στα βιβλία. Οι δάσκαλοι και τα βιβλία εξακολουθούν να είναι το καλύτερο πράγμα που μου συνέβη στη ζωή μου και, πιθανότατα, αν δεν με είχαν φάει οι μεγαλεπήβολες ιδέες περί της τιμής μου, της ακεραιότητάς μου και του καθήκοντός μου ως άντρα - αλλά και οι ιδέες περί της ίδιας της "ηθικής" -, ποτέ δε θα είχα δείξει τέτοια επιρρέπεια προς τη φιλολογική μόρφωση και τις συνακόλουθες απολαύσεις. Ούτε θα είχα ξεκινήσει λογοτεχνική καριέρα. Και τώρα πια είναι πολύ αργά για να πω πως δε θα 'πρεπε, πως με το να γίνω συγγραφέας το μόνο που κατάφερα ήταν να επιδεινώσω την ανθυγιεινή εμμονή μου. Η λογοτεχνία μ' έμπλεξε σε όλα αυτά, η λογοτεχνία θα με ξεμπλέξει πάλι. Το γράψιμο είναι το μόνο που μου 'χει απομείνει και παρότι δε φαίνεται να μου έχει κάνει τη ζωή εύκολη στα χρόνια που ακολούθησαν το ευοίωνο ντεμπούτο μου, είναι το μόνο που εμπιστεύομαι αληθινά.
Το πρόβλημα με μένα, τότε στα εικοσικάτι μου, ήταν ότι , παρότι η αυτοπεποίθηση και η επιτυχία έρρεαν άφθονες, δεν ήμουν έτοιμος νας περιοριστώ στα βιβλία και μόνο, όσον αφορούσε την περιπλοκότητα και το βάθος της σκέψης. Με τη σπουδαία λογοτεχνία να μου τρέχει από τα μπατζάκια - μαγεμένος όχι από τα φτηνιάρικα ρομάντσα όπως η Μαντάμ Μποβαρύ αλλά από την Μαντάμ Μποβαρύ -, προσδοκούσα να συναντήσω στις καθημερινές μου εμπειρίες την ίδια αίσθηση δυσκολίας και θανάσιμης βαρύτητας που διέπνεε τα μυθιστορήματα που θαύμαζα περισσότερο. Το πρότυπό μου της πραγματικότητας, απόρροια της μελέτης των μεγάλων δασκάλων, περιέκλειε στην καρδιά του την έννοια του αντίξοου. Και, ιδού, μια πραγματικότητα τόσο ανένδοτη και στρυφνή και (επιπλέον) τόσο φριχτή, όσο θα μπορούσα να έχω ευχηθεί στα πιο ακραιφνώς λόγια όνειρά μου. Μέχρι πού θα μπορούσε κανείς να πει πως το μαρτύριο που πολύ γρήγορα έμελλε να καταντήσει η καθημερινή μου ζωή δεν ήταν παρά το χαμόγελο της Κυρά-Τύχης προς το "παιδί θαύμα της αμερικανικής λογοτεχνίας" (Κριτκή βιβλίων, New York Times, Σεπτέμβριος 1959) που απλόχερα μοίραζε στον υπέρμετρα προικισμένο ευνοούμενό της οτιδήποτε απαιτούσε η λογοτεχνική ευαισθησία. Θες περιπλοκότητα; Δυσκολία; Αντιξοότητα; Θες ό,τι έχει θανάσιμη βαρύτητα; Χάρισμά σου!
(Η ΖΩΗ ΜΟΥ ΩΣ ΑΝΤΡΑ, εκδ. Πόλις σελ. 238-241)

[Carmen Daza Márquez · Rating 4 out of 5]

De una crudeza implacable y una sinceridad desgarradora, las variaciones sobre el mismo tema que Philip Roth presenta en Mi vida como hombre suponen cada vez una nueva vuelta de tuerca alrededor de cómo un hombre puede echar a perder su propia vida sabiendo bien lo que hace y cómo lo hace. Una historia contada de una forma totalmente inverosímil, y a la vez de una autenticidad tan descarnada que por fuerza tiene que contener elementos autobiográficos reales.
El narrador-protagonista (sea Nathan Zuckerman o Peter Tarnopol) nos cuenta con todo detalle cómo vivia una existencia completamente literaria que le hacía feliz, y cómo ese afán por la literatura le llevó a elegir una esposa como un personaje de ficción. Este narrador habla de sí mismo como de una Madame Bovary masculina y moderna, que en vez de haber llenado su imaginación de novelas románticas la había llenado de la mejor literatura universal, y a causa de ello llegó a creer que su vida tenía que responder a ciertas pautas de comportamiento transcendentes: sus acciones debían estar llenas de sentido, su pareja no podría ser una persona cualquiera sino alguien con un pasado, con una experiencia vital significativa. Para, finalmente y siempre en sus propias palabras, acabar siendo el protagonista de escenas dignas de un culebrón. Impresionante.
Las narraciones "ficticias" de Nathan Zuckerman del principio son bastante superiores desde el punto de vista literario a las narraciones "reales" de Peter Tarnopol de la segunda parte. La elaboración literaria de los hechos vitales les va a dar una dimensión artística de la que va a carecer la confesión, por muy sincera que sea y muy bien escrita que esté Pero la fascinación continúa en cualquier caso hasta el final, Peter Tarnopol es una figura tan magnética como sin duda lo es su propio autor.

[Kevin Adams · Rating 4 out of 5]

Philip Roth has always been one of my top-3 authors of all time and I’m doing a reread of his work especially the underrated and less read novels. This is my second time (first in decades) and still holds up. Unabashed and at times uncomfortable. I think it’s one of his best structurally and needs some attention from everyone trying to read his oeuvre. Criminally underread. Don’t start here but it’s a must read.

4.5 ⭐️

[Tracy Towley · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't know off hand how many Roth books I've read now, but I suspect it's easily in the two digits. I've also read more essays, reviews and entire books of criticism of Roth than any sane person should. A common criticism of his work is that he portrays women poorly, that he is in fact a misogynist.

Maybe it's because I didn't graduate from college and was therefore able to avoid any sort of Gender Studies class, but I never really had a problem with his portrayal of women. He typically has two extreme versions of women in his novels.

Woman 1 : Simple, easy to get along with. There to please. Lacking any sort of personality or sense of self.

Woman 2 : Bold, articulate, straight forward. Demanding and challenging.

In most of his stories, his protagonist will at some point have to decide between these two types of women. They always struggle to choose and the outcome is never the same. While I have considered that it would be nice if he'd occasionally write about a more balanced woman, I don't think that every book I read has to incorporate every type of person ever, so I mostly scoff and roll my eyes at the more feminist criticisms of his work.

Then, I read this book.

Stop the presses, it's true : Philip Roth hates women. Knowing as much as I do about his background, it is clear to me that this book was a direct attack on his first wife, who died well before the book was written. This novel is the story of their relationship, their downfall and her eventual death. It reads as a bitter, scathing, one-sided and completely unfair assessment of their relationship. The woman is a crazy person, he is perfect. All of their problems were her fault.

It was gossipy, hostile and downright unpleasant to read. I will not be reading this again and I'm hoping to soon forget it.

That said, the prose was beautiful. He wrote some interesting tidbits about Chicago and the first 1/4 of the book, before he got nasty, was intriguing enough.

In summation : Uh, don't read this unless you really, really hate women.

[olaszka · Rating 3 out of 5]

philip roth is one of my favourite writers and i always thought him very consistent. this time around he does not deliver, or maybe this time around i just can't overlook the staggering amount of misogyny that informs most of his fiction.

to be clear, this novel is as semantically superb as any other penned by roth but it's just tediously overanalytic. the dialogue is good but there's so little of it! what we get instead is three hundred pages of excruciatingly detailed self-evaluation, practiced by roth's thinly-veiled literary double.

on the whole, this is an intricate work of life-inspired fiction (or, to be accurate, life-inspired fiction within fiction). it can very well serve to illustrate the relationship between the writer and his work and in that respect it proved to be of my much interest to me. on the other hand, the depth in which the protagonist peter tarnopol examines his failed marriage to villainous maureen is... well... unhealthy. and the not-so-occiasional bits where he dabbles with psychoanalysis make for a rather painful reading process.

i can't believe i actually finished it.

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

This tale of marriage, divorce, death, and Jewish neurosis (largely narcissism) is as unpleasant as it is well-written, inspired, and personally familiar. "My Life as Man" is reckless in inviting us to review the man rather than the writer, which is part of its appeal. To get the story out Roth is willing to look not only ignoble and self‐centered, but also foolish, helpless, even moderately (to majorly) misogynistic. However, if the personal‐confessional mode highlights Roth's limitations it also returns him to the day‐to‐day funhouse of psychoanalytic construed human folly that he can describe so ringingly, so comically, even as it goes on tormenting him. For all its egotism “My Life as a Man” is a very vulnerable and affecting work.

[Veronika Sebechlebská · Rating 2 out of 5]

Kniha tak prelezená ufrflaným negativizmom a horekujúcou sebaľútosťou, že ju radšej ukladám do karantény, nieže mi to chytí nejaký Bukowski.

[V. Prince · Rating 4 out of 5]

“...it is not compromising circumstances, but (in both senses) the gravity of his character, that determines his moral career; all the culpability is his.”

Roth's first foray into the Nathan Zuckerman novels (it seems a flagrant disservice that conventional literary wisdom records The Ghost Writer as the first Zuckerman piece) lays out a complete exegesis on the ethics of his autofiction and its place in the Roth ideological project. Featuring a prose style more prone to casual realism a la The Professor of Desire rather than the more elliptical constructions of the late masterpieces, a pleasure to read in spite of its harrowing content.

Certainly prone to the careless provocation of mid-century American literature, particularly in its depictions of domestic violence, knowingly taunting the reader as to whether it can be assigned to the author or simply his fictions.