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The Victim
"The best novel to come out of America—or England—for a generation." — V.S. Pritchett, The New York Review of Books
A Penguin Classic
In this unique noir masterpiece by the incomparable Saul Bellow, a young man is sucked into the mysterious, heat-filled vortex of New York City. Asa Leventhal, a temporary bachelor with his wife away on a visit to her mother, attempts to find relief from a Gotham heat wave, only to be accosted in the park by a down-at-the-heels stranger who accuses Leventhal of ruining his life. Unable to shake the stranger loose, Leventhal is led by his own self-doubts and suspicions into a nightmare of paranoia and fear.
This Penguin Classics edition features an introduction by National Book Award winner Norman Rush.
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
A Penguin Classic
In this unique noir masterpiece by the incomparable Saul Bellow, a young man is sucked into the mysterious, heat-filled vortex of New York City. Asa Leventhal, a temporary bachelor with his wife away on a visit to her mother, attempts to find relief from a Gotham heat wave, only to be accosted in the park by a down-at-the-heels stranger who accuses Leventhal of ruining his life. Unable to shake the stranger loose, Leventhal is led by his own self-doubts and suspicions into a nightmare of paranoia and fear.
This Penguin Classics edition features an introduction by National Book Award winner Norman Rush.
For more than seventy years, Penguin has been the leading publisher of classic literature in the English-speaking world. With more than 1,700 titles, Penguin Classics represents a global bookshelf of the best works throughout history and across genres and disciplines. Readers trust the series to provide authoritative texts enhanced by introductions and notes by distinguished scholars and contemporary authors, as well as up-to-date translations by award-winning translators.
272 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1947
106 people are currently reading
3039 people want to read
About the author
Saul Bellow
252 books1,960 followersNovels of Saul Bellow, Canadian-American writer, include
Dangling Man
in 1944 and
Humboldt's Gift
in 1975 and often concern an alienated individual within an indifferent society; he won the Nobel Prize of 1976 for literature.
People widely regard one most important Saul Bellow of the 20th century. Known for his rich prose, intellectual depth, and incisive character studies, Bellow explored themes of identity and the complexities of modern life with a distinct voice that fused philosophical insight and streetwise humor. Herzog , The Adventures of Augie March , and Mister Sammler’s Planet , his major works, earned critical acclaim and a lasting legacy.
Born in Lachine, Quebec, to Russian-Jewish immigrants, Saul Bellow at a young age moved with his family to Chicago, a city that shaped much worldview and a frequent backdrop in his fiction. He studied anthropology at the University of Chicago and later Northwestern, and his intellectual interests deeply informed him. Bellow briefly pursued graduate studies in anthropology, quickly turned, and first published.
Breakthrough of Saul Bellow came with The Adventures of Augie March , a sprawling, exuberance that in 1953 marked the national book award and a new direction in fiction. With energetic language and episodic structure, it introduced readers to a new kind of unapologetically intellectual yet deeply grounded hero in the realities of urban life. Over the following decades, Bellow produced a series of acclaimed that further cemented his reputation. In Herzog , considered his masterpiece in 1964, a psychological portrait of inner turmoil of a troubled academic unfolds through a series of unsent letters, while a semi-autobiographical reflection on art and fame gained the Pulitzer Prize.
In 1976, people awarded human understanding and subtle analysis of contemporary culture of Saul Bellow. He only thrice gained the national book award for fiction and also received the medal of arts and the lifetime achievement of the library of Congress.
Beyond fiction, Saul Bellow, a passionate essayist, taught. He held academic positions at institutions, such as the University of Minnesota, Princeton, and Boston University, and people knew his sharp intellect and lively classroom presence. Despite his stature, Bellow cared about ordinary people and infused his work with humor, moral reflection, and a deep appreciation of contradictions of life.
People can see influence of Saul Bellow in the work of countless followers. His uniquely and universally resonant voice ably combined the comic, the profound, the intellectual, and the visceral. He continued into his later years to publish his final Ravelstein in 2000.
People continue to read work of Saul Bellow and to celebrate its wisdom, vitality, and fearless examination of humanity in a chaotic world.
People widely regard one most important Saul Bellow of the 20th century. Known for his rich prose, intellectual depth, and incisive character studies, Bellow explored themes of identity and the complexities of modern life with a distinct voice that fused philosophical insight and streetwise humor. Herzog , The Adventures of Augie March , and Mister Sammler’s Planet , his major works, earned critical acclaim and a lasting legacy.
Born in Lachine, Quebec, to Russian-Jewish immigrants, Saul Bellow at a young age moved with his family to Chicago, a city that shaped much worldview and a frequent backdrop in his fiction. He studied anthropology at the University of Chicago and later Northwestern, and his intellectual interests deeply informed him. Bellow briefly pursued graduate studies in anthropology, quickly turned, and first published.
Breakthrough of Saul Bellow came with The Adventures of Augie March , a sprawling, exuberance that in 1953 marked the national book award and a new direction in fiction. With energetic language and episodic structure, it introduced readers to a new kind of unapologetically intellectual yet deeply grounded hero in the realities of urban life. Over the following decades, Bellow produced a series of acclaimed that further cemented his reputation. In Herzog , considered his masterpiece in 1964, a psychological portrait of inner turmoil of a troubled academic unfolds through a series of unsent letters, while a semi-autobiographical reflection on art and fame gained the Pulitzer Prize.
In 1976, people awarded human understanding and subtle analysis of contemporary culture of Saul Bellow. He only thrice gained the national book award for fiction and also received the medal of arts and the lifetime achievement of the library of Congress.
Beyond fiction, Saul Bellow, a passionate essayist, taught. He held academic positions at institutions, such as the University of Minnesota, Princeton, and Boston University, and people knew his sharp intellect and lively classroom presence. Despite his stature, Bellow cared about ordinary people and infused his work with humor, moral reflection, and a deep appreciation of contradictions of life.
People can see influence of Saul Bellow in the work of countless followers. His uniquely and universally resonant voice ably combined the comic, the profound, the intellectual, and the visceral. He continued into his later years to publish his final Ravelstein in 2000.
People continue to read work of Saul Bellow and to celebrate its wisdom, vitality, and fearless examination of humanity in a chaotic world.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 220 reviews
June 28, 2020
The Ecology of Oppression
How many ways are there to be a schmuck? Bellow probably includes most of them in The Victim. Over-reaction, under-reaction, mis-directed reaction, delayed reaction - Asa Leventhal has them all. He can’t be called hapless because he is aware that action is necessary; but he never seems to pick the right alternative.
Leventhal is sure of himself when he should be cautious; impetuous when he should be fearful; fearful when he could act boldly in his own interests. Marriage, work, relationships are mysterious traps for Leventhal. So no matter how he acts, he has regrets. His self-doubt is monumental. He seems unable to learn from experience, and so repeats the same errors over and over.
To make matters worse, Leventhal is acutely sensitive to his immediate environment. He is sympathetic; he worries about others and how they feel; he takes their part even when it is to his disadvantage. So he is constantly confronted with the need for decision about how to adapt himself to circumstances. This sensitive introversion can verge on saintliness... or mental illness.
At times the internal and external dialogue approach the frustrating interchange of characters out of a Samuel Beckett play - senseless mutual incomprehension which the reader must endure along with the characters. Scruples, second thoughts, hesitations, reversals, things unsaid abound.
But, unlike Beckett, Bellow interjects wonderful lyricism into almost every scene. His descriptions of what Leventhal perceives can be exquisite: “The paper frills along the shelves of the cupboard crackled in the current of the fan. It ran on the cabinet, sooty, with insectlike swiftness and a thrumming of its soft rubber blades; it suggested a fly hovering below the tarnish and heat of the ceiling and beside the scaling, many-jointed, curved pipes on which Elena hung rags to dry.”
The contrast, therefore, between Leventhal’s observational delicacy and his operational effectiveness in life, as it were, is stark. “People met you once or twice and they hated you. What was the reason; what inspired it?” This is Bellovian irony. He knows well what inspires it: anti-Semitism. Leventhal meets the beast of anti-Semitism in the office, with his in-laws, in his remembered past. But he minimizes it; he lets it slide in order to maintain civilized relationships. He feels compelled to be a mensch even in the midst of simmering hostility. One must never be disagreeable if one is to survive.
The reason for Leventhal’s timidity is a very specific fear, a fear shared by other Jews in the story, the fear of creating a bad reputation among the goyim. Getting a name for being uncivil, for calling out those whose anti-Semitism is expressed so casually, would be counterproductive. It would simply confirm existing prejudices. It would also jeopardize the possibility of influence, both professional and personal. So it is necessary to tolerate the verbal barbs and nasty asides lest something more dire ensue. Says the wife of one of Leventhal’s acquaintances, “People are bound not to take things too much to heart, for their own protection. You've got to use influence on them.” And you can’t do that if you complain about irrational abuse.
So Bellow’s subtle issues throughout are about the morality of victimhood. Is it possible to escape from the overwhelming power of convention and prejudice? Are the oppressed complicit in their own oppression? How open can a person be in confronting the powers that dominate his life? These are issues of culture, and therefore literature, not for the popular press or the law courts. Which is why Bellow writes about them.
How many ways are there to be a schmuck? Bellow probably includes most of them in The Victim. Over-reaction, under-reaction, mis-directed reaction, delayed reaction - Asa Leventhal has them all. He can’t be called hapless because he is aware that action is necessary; but he never seems to pick the right alternative.
Leventhal is sure of himself when he should be cautious; impetuous when he should be fearful; fearful when he could act boldly in his own interests. Marriage, work, relationships are mysterious traps for Leventhal. So no matter how he acts, he has regrets. His self-doubt is monumental. He seems unable to learn from experience, and so repeats the same errors over and over.
To make matters worse, Leventhal is acutely sensitive to his immediate environment. He is sympathetic; he worries about others and how they feel; he takes their part even when it is to his disadvantage. So he is constantly confronted with the need for decision about how to adapt himself to circumstances. This sensitive introversion can verge on saintliness... or mental illness.
At times the internal and external dialogue approach the frustrating interchange of characters out of a Samuel Beckett play - senseless mutual incomprehension which the reader must endure along with the characters. Scruples, second thoughts, hesitations, reversals, things unsaid abound.
But, unlike Beckett, Bellow interjects wonderful lyricism into almost every scene. His descriptions of what Leventhal perceives can be exquisite: “The paper frills along the shelves of the cupboard crackled in the current of the fan. It ran on the cabinet, sooty, with insectlike swiftness and a thrumming of its soft rubber blades; it suggested a fly hovering below the tarnish and heat of the ceiling and beside the scaling, many-jointed, curved pipes on which Elena hung rags to dry.”
The contrast, therefore, between Leventhal’s observational delicacy and his operational effectiveness in life, as it were, is stark. “People met you once or twice and they hated you. What was the reason; what inspired it?” This is Bellovian irony. He knows well what inspires it: anti-Semitism. Leventhal meets the beast of anti-Semitism in the office, with his in-laws, in his remembered past. But he minimizes it; he lets it slide in order to maintain civilized relationships. He feels compelled to be a mensch even in the midst of simmering hostility. One must never be disagreeable if one is to survive.
The reason for Leventhal’s timidity is a very specific fear, a fear shared by other Jews in the story, the fear of creating a bad reputation among the goyim. Getting a name for being uncivil, for calling out those whose anti-Semitism is expressed so casually, would be counterproductive. It would simply confirm existing prejudices. It would also jeopardize the possibility of influence, both professional and personal. So it is necessary to tolerate the verbal barbs and nasty asides lest something more dire ensue. Says the wife of one of Leventhal’s acquaintances, “People are bound not to take things too much to heart, for their own protection. You've got to use influence on them.” And you can’t do that if you complain about irrational abuse.
So Bellow’s subtle issues throughout are about the morality of victimhood. Is it possible to escape from the overwhelming power of convention and prejudice? Are the oppressed complicit in their own oppression? How open can a person be in confronting the powers that dominate his life? These are issues of culture, and therefore literature, not for the popular press or the law courts. Which is why Bellow writes about them.
April 1, 2021
This is a book about one man coming to terms with himself—about who he is, has been and how he wants to be in the future. It is a self-reckoning.
The strength of the novel lies in its ability to capture the man’s inner turmoil. He lacks confidence, but it is in his lack of self-confidence that he becomes human and very real to the reader.
Asa Leventhal is left alone in NYC; his wife has gone to help her mother move from one house to another. It is summer. It is hot, and the city is a-sizzle. Asa depends on his wife and he misses her. His sister-in-law, Elena, calls. She is in need of help; Max, her husband and Asa’s brother, is off working in Texas and Max and Elena’s youngest son has become very, very ill. Then, by chance, Asa meets up with Kirby Albee, a person he knew from years before. He claims that Asa owes him, and owes him big; he claims that Asa had caused him to lose his job. To what extent are you your brother’s keeper? How should one prioritize your own needs, your family’s needs and those of your friends? This is what Asa thinks about and this is what readers think about too. The difference is that we are on the outside, and so we are more objective. The book shows us what is going on in Asa’s head, and it does it remarkably well.
Who is the victim of the story? This you will think about.
The book captures hot summer nights in NYC. It captures ordinary Jewish men living in the city after the war—what they do and say to each other. All of this is captured wonderfully. The book was published in 1947. It captures the way things were back then for such people.
I like the ending too.
I listened to the audiobook narrated by Joe Barrett. His narration is excellent. Possibly, his narration even improves the story; he makes what is said feel so authentic. He uses different tones for Asa and Kirby. You hear immediately who is talking. 5 stars for his performance.
**************
The Victim 4 stars
Herzog 4 stars
Dangling Man 3 stars
Seize the Day 3 stars
The Adventures of Augie March 2 stars
More Die of Heartbreak TBR
The Actual TBR
Ravelstein TBR
The strength of the novel lies in its ability to capture the man’s inner turmoil. He lacks confidence, but it is in his lack of self-confidence that he becomes human and very real to the reader.
Asa Leventhal is left alone in NYC; his wife has gone to help her mother move from one house to another. It is summer. It is hot, and the city is a-sizzle. Asa depends on his wife and he misses her. His sister-in-law, Elena, calls. She is in need of help; Max, her husband and Asa’s brother, is off working in Texas and Max and Elena’s youngest son has become very, very ill. Then, by chance, Asa meets up with Kirby Albee, a person he knew from years before. He claims that Asa owes him, and owes him big; he claims that Asa had caused him to lose his job. To what extent are you your brother’s keeper? How should one prioritize your own needs, your family’s needs and those of your friends? This is what Asa thinks about and this is what readers think about too. The difference is that we are on the outside, and so we are more objective. The book shows us what is going on in Asa’s head, and it does it remarkably well.
Who is the victim of the story? This you will think about.
The book captures hot summer nights in NYC. It captures ordinary Jewish men living in the city after the war—what they do and say to each other. All of this is captured wonderfully. The book was published in 1947. It captures the way things were back then for such people.
I like the ending too.
I listened to the audiobook narrated by Joe Barrett. His narration is excellent. Possibly, his narration even improves the story; he makes what is said feel so authentic. He uses different tones for Asa and Kirby. You hear immediately who is talking. 5 stars for his performance.
**************
The Victim 4 stars
Herzog 4 stars
Dangling Man 3 stars
Seize the Day 3 stars
The Adventures of Augie March 2 stars
More Die of Heartbreak TBR
The Actual TBR
Ravelstein TBR
May 8, 2021
Guilt And Alienation In Post-War New York City
In a Guggenheim Fellowship application in 1945, Saul Bellow described his then work-in-progress, "The Victim" as "a novel whose theme was guilt." He worked assiduously on this novel between 1945 - 1947 when it was published to poor sales. In 1952, a stage version of the book ran briefly off-Broadway.
"The Victim" explores modernist themes of guilt, loneliness, purposelessness and paranoia in the lives of its main character and his strange double. The book is set in a sweltering New York City summer following WW II. The primary character, Asa Leventhal, works as an editor for a trade paper where he has an uncomfortable relationship with his boss. He is a non-practicing Jew highly conscious of anti-Semitism. Leventhal has had a difficult life with a mother who went mad during his childhood and a distant father. He has an older brother, Max, from whom he has long been estranged. Leventhal left a civil service job in Baltimore after an engagement apparently ended, and he endured months of poverty in New York City before finding a position. When the book opens, Leventhal is alone in the hot New York summer. The broken engagement ultimately was restored, and Leventhal's wife Mary is away for several weeks visiting her sick mother.
Leventhal endures a difficult summer. He is approached, and virtually stalked, by a man named Kirby Allbee whom he had known briefly years earlier. At a party both men attended, Allbee had made anti-Semitic comments to Leventhal. But Allbee used his influence to get Leventhal a job interview with Allbee's then-boss. The interview proved disastrous as Leventhal lost his temper. Allbee, who was a marginal worker at best with a drinking problem, was then fired. Allbee's drinking problem grew worse, his wife left him and soon died, and Allbee became penniless and unemployed - the fate that Leventhal himself had narrowly escaped. Allbee blames Leventhal for his troubles - with the implication that Leventhal deliberately insulted Allbee's boss during the interview to retaliate against Allbee for his anti-Semitism - and seeks his help. Allbee becomes ever more persistent, stalking Leventhal in his daily routines, following him to his flat, moving in, rummaging through Leventhal's drawers and effects, carrying on a brief affair in Leventhal's bed, and ultimately trying to kill himself in Leventhal's kitchen.
Leventhal has other problems of guilt as well. His brother Max has married an Italian Catholic woman, Elena, who lives in Staten Island with two children and an aging mother. Max himself is in Texas looking for work. When Elena's younger child becomes gravely ill, she calls Leventhal. Leventhal tries to reach Max who is unable to return before the child dies. Leventhal fears that his brother's wife and her mother somehow hold him responsible. With prejudices of his own, Leventhal is troubled that his brother has married a non-Jew and finds Elena and her mother superstitious and primitive. During the course of the book, Leventhal and his brother take modest steps to improve their estranged relationship.
Both Leventhal and Allbee are lonely outsiders and one-time members of the class whom Bellow describes as "the lost, the overcome, the effaced, the ruined." The book seems to me heavily influenced by Dostoevsky and by existentialism. Allbee reminded me of Melville's character Bartelby in the famous short story. The novel explores the nature of personal responsibility. It is a study of pervasive, if somewhat repressed anti-Semitism not only in Allbee but in the business world of New York City as well. But Bellow also shows Leventhal's own prejudices, his willingness to think the worst of Allbee and his distrust of his brother's Italian family. The book suggests that guilt, loneliness and redemption can be overcome by friendship. love and purpose.
This book is tightly written and constructed, unlike its successor, the long, diffuse and exuberant "The Adventures of Augie March." As with much of Bellow, the story is framed with many philosophical reflections and discussions, between Leventhal and Allbee, and between Leventhal and his friends. The lonely life on city streets, park benches, cheerless flats, and cheap restaurants plays a dominant role in this early novel is it does in Bellow's later works. But the writing in "The Victim" seems to me formulaic. The scenes which Bellow would later fully bring to life here sometimes tend to fall flat. The book is serious and thoughtful, but it does not move well.
Late in life, Bellow distanced himself from this book and from its predecessor, "Dangling Man", by calling the former novel his M.A. and "The Victim" his PhD. This is an accurate if overly-harsh assessment. This book will have its greatest appeal to readers who are seriously interested in Bellow and his themes.
Robin Friedman
In a Guggenheim Fellowship application in 1945, Saul Bellow described his then work-in-progress, "The Victim" as "a novel whose theme was guilt." He worked assiduously on this novel between 1945 - 1947 when it was published to poor sales. In 1952, a stage version of the book ran briefly off-Broadway.
"The Victim" explores modernist themes of guilt, loneliness, purposelessness and paranoia in the lives of its main character and his strange double. The book is set in a sweltering New York City summer following WW II. The primary character, Asa Leventhal, works as an editor for a trade paper where he has an uncomfortable relationship with his boss. He is a non-practicing Jew highly conscious of anti-Semitism. Leventhal has had a difficult life with a mother who went mad during his childhood and a distant father. He has an older brother, Max, from whom he has long been estranged. Leventhal left a civil service job in Baltimore after an engagement apparently ended, and he endured months of poverty in New York City before finding a position. When the book opens, Leventhal is alone in the hot New York summer. The broken engagement ultimately was restored, and Leventhal's wife Mary is away for several weeks visiting her sick mother.
Leventhal endures a difficult summer. He is approached, and virtually stalked, by a man named Kirby Allbee whom he had known briefly years earlier. At a party both men attended, Allbee had made anti-Semitic comments to Leventhal. But Allbee used his influence to get Leventhal a job interview with Allbee's then-boss. The interview proved disastrous as Leventhal lost his temper. Allbee, who was a marginal worker at best with a drinking problem, was then fired. Allbee's drinking problem grew worse, his wife left him and soon died, and Allbee became penniless and unemployed - the fate that Leventhal himself had narrowly escaped. Allbee blames Leventhal for his troubles - with the implication that Leventhal deliberately insulted Allbee's boss during the interview to retaliate against Allbee for his anti-Semitism - and seeks his help. Allbee becomes ever more persistent, stalking Leventhal in his daily routines, following him to his flat, moving in, rummaging through Leventhal's drawers and effects, carrying on a brief affair in Leventhal's bed, and ultimately trying to kill himself in Leventhal's kitchen.
Leventhal has other problems of guilt as well. His brother Max has married an Italian Catholic woman, Elena, who lives in Staten Island with two children and an aging mother. Max himself is in Texas looking for work. When Elena's younger child becomes gravely ill, she calls Leventhal. Leventhal tries to reach Max who is unable to return before the child dies. Leventhal fears that his brother's wife and her mother somehow hold him responsible. With prejudices of his own, Leventhal is troubled that his brother has married a non-Jew and finds Elena and her mother superstitious and primitive. During the course of the book, Leventhal and his brother take modest steps to improve their estranged relationship.
Both Leventhal and Allbee are lonely outsiders and one-time members of the class whom Bellow describes as "the lost, the overcome, the effaced, the ruined." The book seems to me heavily influenced by Dostoevsky and by existentialism. Allbee reminded me of Melville's character Bartelby in the famous short story. The novel explores the nature of personal responsibility. It is a study of pervasive, if somewhat repressed anti-Semitism not only in Allbee but in the business world of New York City as well. But Bellow also shows Leventhal's own prejudices, his willingness to think the worst of Allbee and his distrust of his brother's Italian family. The book suggests that guilt, loneliness and redemption can be overcome by friendship. love and purpose.
This book is tightly written and constructed, unlike its successor, the long, diffuse and exuberant "The Adventures of Augie March." As with much of Bellow, the story is framed with many philosophical reflections and discussions, between Leventhal and Allbee, and between Leventhal and his friends. The lonely life on city streets, park benches, cheerless flats, and cheap restaurants plays a dominant role in this early novel is it does in Bellow's later works. But the writing in "The Victim" seems to me formulaic. The scenes which Bellow would later fully bring to life here sometimes tend to fall flat. The book is serious and thoughtful, but it does not move well.
Late in life, Bellow distanced himself from this book and from its predecessor, "Dangling Man", by calling the former novel his M.A. and "The Victim" his PhD. This is an accurate if overly-harsh assessment. This book will have its greatest appeal to readers who are seriously interested in Bellow and his themes.
Robin Friedman
January 26, 2019
The Victim was an interesting read, to say the least. Before I continue with this review, I have a confession to make. I read this book ages ago! I do remember how much I liked it. I enjoyed it so much that I was determined to read more Saul Bellow but somehow I didn't get around to, and now I feel bad about it. If he is so good, why I didn't find time for more Saul Bellow? Well, there are many great authors and books out there. Sometimes that old proverb ' you can't get them all' applies. It is a shame that the only thing I read by this great author is this little novel, but hey better something that nothing, right?
The Victim was published in 1947. I don't remember thinking much about the date of publication while I was reading this novel. The writing somehow feels very modern, not dated or old fashion in any way. The novel opens with a protagonist Leventhal. His wife had to go away to help her mother, so he temporary lives alone. Leventhal is a middle aged Jewish man who works as a copy writer. At work he receives a call for help from his sister in law. It seems his nephew is sick. Leventhal examines his relationship with his extended family, wondering has he failed at his duty. During a walk in the park, a man (revealing himself to be an old acquaintance approaches) Leventhal. At first, Albee seems benevolent enough, and Leventhal pities him as he seems a but run down. Soon, however, it turns out that Albee blames Leventhal for all the misfortunes in his life, starting from Albee having lost his job to the present day.
A feeling of isolation soaks this novel. Our protagonists asks many questions. He becomes convienced that his brother Maxi has neglected his family. At the same time, a cat and mouse play with Albee continues. What could Alble possibly want? The protagonists asks many questions. As I read I had a whole set of questions as well. Who is the victim? What is the crime? What is Levathien victim of? What are all we victims of? Even after reading this novel I'm not sure I have any answers. Perhaps we are all victims of life. Perhaps this is what novel is trying to tell us. That we can be victims of one another, but in the end we're all victims at the injustice that is this world. I can't be sure what exactly the writer was going for, but I liked the way he went about it. What I'm sure of is that The Victim is a wonderful novel.
Levanthian was easy to sympathize with because he is so human, just a guy trying to do the right thing. The kind of person that will take the time to think things over and yet you're not certain what that exactly means. Is he who he seems that he is? Yes, I loved the complexity of the protagonist. His existential questioning appealed to me. Moreover, I quite enjoyed the ambiguity of it all. This is a novel that has left me wondering.
Life is complex and so is this novel. Similar to real life, it's hard to figure out who is guilty and of what. In that sense the novel felt quite ambiguous. It was also wonderfully philosophical at times. Perhaps for the first fifty pages or so, things seemed much too simple to me and the characters stereotyped. However, that changed. I can say that the rest of the book was excellent- the slow start was, or so it seems, the perfect introduction. Indeed, perhaps those first fifty pages or so are an introduction of some kind...and there's a reason why the introduction is slow ( or maybe not exactly slow, it is more that there is no foreshadowing to start with. What could be a good word for it?Maybe it is best to say that the beginning of the story is "not revealing" at all. Ultimately, this proved to be a good thing, because this novel really grabs your attention once the things start to get going. By the end of the story, I found myself immersed in the story. At start the characterization seemed stereotypical. Nevertheless, by the end of the novel there wasn't a character that did not feel real. The protagonist is the most complex character, but they all have a life of their own. Literally, it is like the characters gained life with every page. Another thing that I really liked was the descriptiveness of the writing. Bellow writes with ease. The descriptiveness suited this story perfectly. The contrast between the ambiguity of meaning and the descriptiveness of the prose was starling.
To conclude, The Victim is a wonderful novel. I'm aware that Bellow, this highly praised and awarded writer, has written many others more famous (and possibly better) works, but if you happen upon this one, don't miss it. As for myself, I really need to get to reading his other works.
The Victim was published in 1947. I don't remember thinking much about the date of publication while I was reading this novel. The writing somehow feels very modern, not dated or old fashion in any way. The novel opens with a protagonist Leventhal. His wife had to go away to help her mother, so he temporary lives alone. Leventhal is a middle aged Jewish man who works as a copy writer. At work he receives a call for help from his sister in law. It seems his nephew is sick. Leventhal examines his relationship with his extended family, wondering has he failed at his duty. During a walk in the park, a man (revealing himself to be an old acquaintance approaches) Leventhal. At first, Albee seems benevolent enough, and Leventhal pities him as he seems a but run down. Soon, however, it turns out that Albee blames Leventhal for all the misfortunes in his life, starting from Albee having lost his job to the present day.
A feeling of isolation soaks this novel. Our protagonists asks many questions. He becomes convienced that his brother Maxi has neglected his family. At the same time, a cat and mouse play with Albee continues. What could Alble possibly want? The protagonists asks many questions. As I read I had a whole set of questions as well. Who is the victim? What is the crime? What is Levathien victim of? What are all we victims of? Even after reading this novel I'm not sure I have any answers. Perhaps we are all victims of life. Perhaps this is what novel is trying to tell us. That we can be victims of one another, but in the end we're all victims at the injustice that is this world. I can't be sure what exactly the writer was going for, but I liked the way he went about it. What I'm sure of is that The Victim is a wonderful novel.
Levanthian was easy to sympathize with because he is so human, just a guy trying to do the right thing. The kind of person that will take the time to think things over and yet you're not certain what that exactly means. Is he who he seems that he is? Yes, I loved the complexity of the protagonist. His existential questioning appealed to me. Moreover, I quite enjoyed the ambiguity of it all. This is a novel that has left me wondering.
Life is complex and so is this novel. Similar to real life, it's hard to figure out who is guilty and of what. In that sense the novel felt quite ambiguous. It was also wonderfully philosophical at times. Perhaps for the first fifty pages or so, things seemed much too simple to me and the characters stereotyped. However, that changed. I can say that the rest of the book was excellent- the slow start was, or so it seems, the perfect introduction. Indeed, perhaps those first fifty pages or so are an introduction of some kind...and there's a reason why the introduction is slow ( or maybe not exactly slow, it is more that there is no foreshadowing to start with. What could be a good word for it?Maybe it is best to say that the beginning of the story is "not revealing" at all. Ultimately, this proved to be a good thing, because this novel really grabs your attention once the things start to get going. By the end of the story, I found myself immersed in the story. At start the characterization seemed stereotypical. Nevertheless, by the end of the novel there wasn't a character that did not feel real. The protagonist is the most complex character, but they all have a life of their own. Literally, it is like the characters gained life with every page. Another thing that I really liked was the descriptiveness of the writing. Bellow writes with ease. The descriptiveness suited this story perfectly. The contrast between the ambiguity of meaning and the descriptiveness of the prose was starling.
To conclude, The Victim is a wonderful novel. I'm aware that Bellow, this highly praised and awarded writer, has written many others more famous (and possibly better) works, but if you happen upon this one, don't miss it. As for myself, I really need to get to reading his other works.
May 24, 2009
It's impossible to please everyone. Hopefully, there isn't a soul on this earth that doesn't realize that, even if it takes them a while to do so. An obsession with appeasing people in life is, in my opinion, one of the most vain and futile preoccupations that a person can have. For every individual, there is bound to be at least a handful of people that they will be despised by. It rarely takes very much either. We make judgements based upon someone's image, ideology, dietary preferences, habits, etc. Have you ever found yourself despising someone merely based on the way that they open a door (and I mean literally, opening a door)?
I'm trying to avoid a vague ethical discourse here, but this idea seemed to be lying beneath the more obvious moral of Saul Bellow's, the Victim. The protagonist, Asa Leventhal lives a modest existence working for a small paper in New York. In the midst of a brutally hot summer, while his wife is out of town, he is confronted by a man from his past whose life he had supposedly ruined. The man's name is Kirby Allbee, who had once arranged an interview with a prominent newspaper, and assertively accuses Leventhal of not only getting him fired from his job, but also his subsequent divorce, which was also followed by his wife's death. What follows is a subplot involving a personal family tragedy for Leventhal while being pursued by Allbee who is seeking out some sort of moral reparation.
The problem is that even if the reader finds Allbee's convictions solid, it's difficult to ignore how much of a loathsome character he is. Leventhal's faults are minor in comparison. Allbee is an anti-semitic, self-pitying, drunken asshole. There is very little to like about him. One wonders how Leventhal could possibly even consider the guilt that he should feel here. However, he has such a difficult time imagining how anyone, even Allbee could find him responsible for something as serious as the single-handed destruction of a life. Leventhal is obviously not to blame here, but he is a man that is easily lead into psychotically obsessive guilt. Allbee just takes advantage of this.
Given the premise, I was expecting this sort of hellish, Dostoevskian parable. Bellow's characters seem to find a resolution that is somewhat more peaceful. I found Allbee's accusation to be somewhat uninspired. He's just blaming Leventhal for his shortcomings. Bellow, for the most part pegs him as the bad guy, as any anti-semitic character in life and in a Bellow novel should be pegged. This is what makes Bellow's first two novels seem like an extension for his outrage at the world as he saw it in the forties, which I think he expresses tastefully enough.
I'm trying to avoid a vague ethical discourse here, but this idea seemed to be lying beneath the more obvious moral of Saul Bellow's, the Victim. The protagonist, Asa Leventhal lives a modest existence working for a small paper in New York. In the midst of a brutally hot summer, while his wife is out of town, he is confronted by a man from his past whose life he had supposedly ruined. The man's name is Kirby Allbee, who had once arranged an interview with a prominent newspaper, and assertively accuses Leventhal of not only getting him fired from his job, but also his subsequent divorce, which was also followed by his wife's death. What follows is a subplot involving a personal family tragedy for Leventhal while being pursued by Allbee who is seeking out some sort of moral reparation.
The problem is that even if the reader finds Allbee's convictions solid, it's difficult to ignore how much of a loathsome character he is. Leventhal's faults are minor in comparison. Allbee is an anti-semitic, self-pitying, drunken asshole. There is very little to like about him. One wonders how Leventhal could possibly even consider the guilt that he should feel here. However, he has such a difficult time imagining how anyone, even Allbee could find him responsible for something as serious as the single-handed destruction of a life. Leventhal is obviously not to blame here, but he is a man that is easily lead into psychotically obsessive guilt. Allbee just takes advantage of this.
Given the premise, I was expecting this sort of hellish, Dostoevskian parable. Bellow's characters seem to find a resolution that is somewhat more peaceful. I found Allbee's accusation to be somewhat uninspired. He's just blaming Leventhal for his shortcomings. Bellow, for the most part pegs him as the bad guy, as any anti-semitic character in life and in a Bellow novel should be pegged. This is what makes Bellow's first two novels seem like an extension for his outrage at the world as he saw it in the forties, which I think he expresses tastefully enough.
February 14, 2012
Who is the victim?...and of what?...even after having finished reading this novel I'm not sure. What I'm sure of is that it is a wonderful novel.
I loved the complexity of the protagonist, and the ambiguity of it all...like in life, it's hard to figure out who is guilty and of what. In that sense the novel felt philosophical at times. For the first fifty pages or so, things felt much too simple and the characters stereotyped but the rest of the book was excellent- it more than made up for it. Perhaps that fifty pages are an introduction of some kind...and there's a reason why the introduction is slow( or what could be a good word for it maybe "not revealing")- because it really grabs your attention once the things start to open up. There is not a character that did not feel real by the end of the story, it is like that they gained life with every page. There is something else that I really liked and that's the descriptiveness of the writing. It suited the story.
This is the first novel I've read by Saul Bellow, but I doubt it will be the last because from what I've seen he's a very gifted writer.
I loved the complexity of the protagonist, and the ambiguity of it all...like in life, it's hard to figure out who is guilty and of what. In that sense the novel felt philosophical at times. For the first fifty pages or so, things felt much too simple and the characters stereotyped but the rest of the book was excellent- it more than made up for it. Perhaps that fifty pages are an introduction of some kind...and there's a reason why the introduction is slow( or what could be a good word for it maybe "not revealing")- because it really grabs your attention once the things start to open up. There is not a character that did not feel real by the end of the story, it is like that they gained life with every page. There is something else that I really liked and that's the descriptiveness of the writing. It suited the story.
This is the first novel I've read by Saul Bellow, but I doubt it will be the last because from what I've seen he's a very gifted writer.
March 7, 2025
A confusing tale on the one hand and a perfectly lucid one on the other.
Fascinating.
These types of tricks can only be practiced by the sharpest of writers.
Asa Leventhal, the main character here, and Allbee, a person Asa swears he detests, are the same person, to me as a reader.
There is almost nothing to explain here. And yet there is too much to reveal.
It is an 'unusual success.’
Fascinating.
These types of tricks can only be practiced by the sharpest of writers.
Asa Leventhal, the main character here, and Allbee, a person Asa swears he detests, are the same person, to me as a reader.
There is almost nothing to explain here. And yet there is too much to reveal.
It is an 'unusual success.’
November 1, 2018
Mudei de 3 para 4 estrelas. O Leventhal continua a caminhar comigo. Isso deve querer dizer que me tinha enganado. É melhor - ou pior, pois as pessoas más também nos marcam - do que julguei no final da leitura. Isto das estrelas é um bocadinho injusto, não é?
March 23, 2019
Βαρέθηκα τρελά, μπα, όχι τρελά, ακόμη κι η βαρεμάρα που μου προκάλεσε, βαρετή ήταν.
February 27, 2017
Bellow's second novel was written shortly after the war when reports of the extermination camps and the war-crime trials of Nuremberg were under way. Bellow doesn't address these topics directly, but his protagonist, Leventhal, finds himself "persecuted" by a fallen, moneyed WASP, and generally surrounded by christians who subtly and not so subtly treat him as a lesser person.
Bellow shows great skill in trying to deal with bigotry and anti-Semitism without turning the novel into a political tract. Leventhal has find minor success among the Gentiles, but there is a constant background fear of being cast out or blacklisted by the Christians who control his livelihood.
An interesting read for Bellow fans.
Bellow shows great skill in trying to deal with bigotry and anti-Semitism without turning the novel into a political tract. Leventhal has find minor success among the Gentiles, but there is a constant background fear of being cast out or blacklisted by the Christians who control his livelihood.
An interesting read for Bellow fans.
August 15, 2017
I had never read any Saul Bellow books before, but I picked this one up from a large 1001 Books To Read Before You Die list, which is one of the many sources from which I pick books. They tend to be quite different from my usual science fiction fare, and that's partly why I like them. It's good not to get too settled into one genre.
Note: The rest of this review has been withheld due to the changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook
Note: The rest of this review has been withheld due to the changes in Goodreads policy and enforcement. You can read why I came to this decision here.
In the meantime, you can read the entire review at Smorgasbook
February 12, 2008
There are some authors who could write about almost anything and I would follow along quite eagerly. Unfortunately, Saul Bellow is not one of those authors.
The victim is a story about Asa Leventhal and his unexpected acquantance, Kirby Albee, who accuses Leventhal of deliberately ruining his life. While the premise was promising, I was disappointed with where it went. The implicit threat that Albee represents is never really carried through, despite the fact that there were myriad oppurtinities for him to cause real harm to Leventhal. At the sime time, I found it extremely difficult to care about Leventhal, who is unbelievably acommodating towards Albee and inexplicably hostile to every one else. His insecurity renders him unable to act, and this might, at least, have made him interesting if it were not for the fact that when he does find the courage to send Albee away, there is not even the slightest suggestion of what changed in him or why.
Stylistically, Bellow is as solid as ever. His descriptions are vivid and occasionally even moving. Unfortunately, his dependable writing did not, for me, carry the story and I will have very shortly forgotten The Victim. From a lesser author, I might have thought the book passable, but I expect more from the author of Henderson the Rain King, and I was disappointed.
The victim is a story about Asa Leventhal and his unexpected acquantance, Kirby Albee, who accuses Leventhal of deliberately ruining his life. While the premise was promising, I was disappointed with where it went. The implicit threat that Albee represents is never really carried through, despite the fact that there were myriad oppurtinities for him to cause real harm to Leventhal. At the sime time, I found it extremely difficult to care about Leventhal, who is unbelievably acommodating towards Albee and inexplicably hostile to every one else. His insecurity renders him unable to act, and this might, at least, have made him interesting if it were not for the fact that when he does find the courage to send Albee away, there is not even the slightest suggestion of what changed in him or why.
Stylistically, Bellow is as solid as ever. His descriptions are vivid and occasionally even moving. Unfortunately, his dependable writing did not, for me, carry the story and I will have very shortly forgotten The Victim. From a lesser author, I might have thought the book passable, but I expect more from the author of Henderson the Rain King, and I was disappointed.
December 24, 2011
Yet another literary plot which would've been nullified by the existence of air conditioning.
Bellow's muscular rpose was as strident as ever. My wife read this a few years ago and pointed out how Edward Albee's Zoo Story has a similar plot device: oh, the antagonist is also named Allbee in Bellow's novel.
Bellow's muscular rpose was as strident as ever. My wife read this a few years ago and pointed out how Edward Albee's Zoo Story has a similar plot device: oh, the antagonist is also named Allbee in Bellow's novel.
March 26, 2017
I ended up skimming a lot of this. Early Bellow does not appeal to me. Too writerly and dull. Never would I have imagined how you would have got from this to Moses Herzog!
March 25, 2009
Here is what I posted, a few minutes ago, about the novella THE VICTIM is based upon: "THE ETERNAL HUSBAND is the model for Saul Bellow's novel, THE VICTIM. Having read and liked THE VICTIM, I decided to read Dostoevsky's novella. I read it in the translation by Pevear and Volokhonsky. Dostoevsky's masterpiece is not only the model for Bellow's book, it is the blueprint. Bellow's genius was to introduce the theme of antisemitism into Dostoevsky's story of a Christian sinner and his Christian nemesis." Before reading THE ETERNAL HUSBAND I posted my review of THE VICTIM. Here it is: While there are many peripheral characters in this, the second of Saul Bellow's published novels, THE VICTIM is essentially a two-character drama. I have a feeling Ed McBain/Evan Hunter got the inspiration for CAPE FEAR from this. (By the way, the novel which became the movie CAPE FEAR has a different title, but it should not be difficult to look up.) Bear in mind, of course, that Bellow is not writing a thriller, but a meditation on antisemitism.
Briefly, the plot involves the reappearance in the life of Asa Leventhal, a moderately successful New York businessman, of Kirby Allbee, a man who, years before, at a party, had aimed antisemitic remarks at Leventhal. Allbee is back, accusing Leventhal of deliberately offending a man who gave Leventhal, at Allbee's recommendation, a job interview. Allbee, having been fired from his job after Leventhal's job interview, stalks Leventhal years after the fact, saying Leventhal owes him something.
This could have been a Noir thriller. Indeed, it has surface similarities to a lot of potboilers of the era. (This novel was published in 1947.) But Bellow, who, in letters, referred to this as an apprentice work, nevertheless, invests it with an unstinting realism. Leventhal's visits to Staten Island to see his abandoned sister-in-law and his nephews show a world recognizable today, from the simple logistics of travel(you take a train to the Ferry, the Ferry to the dock, then a bus to the stop) to the sense of foreboding one gets walking around a neighborhood which is not your own. In short, Bellow is patient with details and uses them to create a mood.
I have not read Dostoevsky's THE ETERNAL HUSBAND, but James Atlas, in his biography of Saul Bellow, points out that it is a source for THE VICTIM. I plan to read it, but I can't think Bellow is not almost as deep as Dostoevsky here.
One chapter, placed at just the right spot in this novel, is a set-piece. Chapter 10 consists of Asa Leventhal's accidental encounter with a group of friends and associates as they eat in a cafeteria. He is called over to their table and the reader is treated to a conversation about Benjamin Disraeli, the Yiddish Theater, the movies and the importance, in an actor, of being neither less nor more than human. I think Bellow's model here is the James Joyce of Dubliners. Five different threads of conversation are treated at once, colleagues in creativity are grouped (musicians being the artists in Dubliners, actors being the artists in THE VICTIM.) The chapter could have been removed. Bellow's publisher asked him to remove it, in fact, and Bellow, a la Joyce, wrote back that it was not the publisher's place to insist on that. This is the chapter that makes this a masterpiece. It is a deep book either way, but it is celestial at that juncture. NOTE WRITTEN AFTER FINISHING THE ETERNAL HUSBAND: Even the set-piece in THE VICTIM reflects what amounts to a set-piece in THE ETERNAL HUSBAND. While Dostoevsky's scene advances the plot and the Bellow scene doesn't, both have a discussion of how to be human while producing art -- singing, in Dostoevsky's book and acting in Bellow's -- and both discussions are in scenes in both books showing the protagonist suddenly enjoying himself in lively company. Saul Bellow matched Dostoevsky almost point-for-point in THE VICTIM.less
Briefly, the plot involves the reappearance in the life of Asa Leventhal, a moderately successful New York businessman, of Kirby Allbee, a man who, years before, at a party, had aimed antisemitic remarks at Leventhal. Allbee is back, accusing Leventhal of deliberately offending a man who gave Leventhal, at Allbee's recommendation, a job interview. Allbee, having been fired from his job after Leventhal's job interview, stalks Leventhal years after the fact, saying Leventhal owes him something.
This could have been a Noir thriller. Indeed, it has surface similarities to a lot of potboilers of the era. (This novel was published in 1947.) But Bellow, who, in letters, referred to this as an apprentice work, nevertheless, invests it with an unstinting realism. Leventhal's visits to Staten Island to see his abandoned sister-in-law and his nephews show a world recognizable today, from the simple logistics of travel(you take a train to the Ferry, the Ferry to the dock, then a bus to the stop) to the sense of foreboding one gets walking around a neighborhood which is not your own. In short, Bellow is patient with details and uses them to create a mood.
I have not read Dostoevsky's THE ETERNAL HUSBAND, but James Atlas, in his biography of Saul Bellow, points out that it is a source for THE VICTIM. I plan to read it, but I can't think Bellow is not almost as deep as Dostoevsky here.
One chapter, placed at just the right spot in this novel, is a set-piece. Chapter 10 consists of Asa Leventhal's accidental encounter with a group of friends and associates as they eat in a cafeteria. He is called over to their table and the reader is treated to a conversation about Benjamin Disraeli, the Yiddish Theater, the movies and the importance, in an actor, of being neither less nor more than human. I think Bellow's model here is the James Joyce of Dubliners. Five different threads of conversation are treated at once, colleagues in creativity are grouped (musicians being the artists in Dubliners, actors being the artists in THE VICTIM.) The chapter could have been removed. Bellow's publisher asked him to remove it, in fact, and Bellow, a la Joyce, wrote back that it was not the publisher's place to insist on that. This is the chapter that makes this a masterpiece. It is a deep book either way, but it is celestial at that juncture. NOTE WRITTEN AFTER FINISHING THE ETERNAL HUSBAND: Even the set-piece in THE VICTIM reflects what amounts to a set-piece in THE ETERNAL HUSBAND. While Dostoevsky's scene advances the plot and the Bellow scene doesn't, both have a discussion of how to be human while producing art -- singing, in Dostoevsky's book and acting in Bellow's -- and both discussions are in scenes in both books showing the protagonist suddenly enjoying himself in lively company. Saul Bellow matched Dostoevsky almost point-for-point in THE VICTIM.less
October 25, 2017
the rise and fall of ambivalence
Asa Leventhal's wife is out of town. He's on his own. He works on a trade magazine in Manhattan and he's pretty secure there. But some time ago, when he was out of work, he went to ask for a job on a different magazine. A friend of a friend had recommended him. This second man, Allbee, had made some very anti-Semitic remarks at a party that Asa attended. At the interview, the boss dismissed Asa rudely. Asa became aggressive and told him off. Subsequently, Allbee lost his job and blamed Asa's behavior for the loss. But he was an alcoholic and rather unstable. A couple of years later, Allbee suddenly turns up, looking very seedy, and demands reparations. At the same time, Asa's nephew is sick and probably dying--a kid who lives on Staten Island. The father, Asa's brother, is down in Texas working. The mother is suspicious of hospitals and doesn't bring the kid there till it's quite late. Is she mentally unstable? Asa's mother had died in a mental institution. Allbee claims to be a victim, but he behaves like the Old Man of the Sea in the story of Sinbad. Asa can't get shed of him. The kid is definitely a victim. You can see that Asa could be a victim too. He isn't sure whether Allbee has a point or not. "Illness, madness, and death were forcing him to confront his fault" if he actually were at fault. He asks two friends, but they give very ambivalent answers or don't see his dilemma.
In another of his novels of question and introspection, Bellow creates a masterpiece of subtle, varying emotion. The characters (at this particular point in their lives) are full of ambivalence, but harbor strong feelings nevertheless. THE VICTIM is a rich stew of philosophy and wondering in a most mundane story. There is no sex or violence, yet the story grips you. What about repentance and the wavering probability of change? Should you repent for something which you feel was not your fault? What do others think of your behavior? Should you be concerned about this? In Bellow's novels nothing has sharp edges. In the end, was all that doubt necessary? Brilliant.
Asa Leventhal's wife is out of town. He's on his own. He works on a trade magazine in Manhattan and he's pretty secure there. But some time ago, when he was out of work, he went to ask for a job on a different magazine. A friend of a friend had recommended him. This second man, Allbee, had made some very anti-Semitic remarks at a party that Asa attended. At the interview, the boss dismissed Asa rudely. Asa became aggressive and told him off. Subsequently, Allbee lost his job and blamed Asa's behavior for the loss. But he was an alcoholic and rather unstable. A couple of years later, Allbee suddenly turns up, looking very seedy, and demands reparations. At the same time, Asa's nephew is sick and probably dying--a kid who lives on Staten Island. The father, Asa's brother, is down in Texas working. The mother is suspicious of hospitals and doesn't bring the kid there till it's quite late. Is she mentally unstable? Asa's mother had died in a mental institution. Allbee claims to be a victim, but he behaves like the Old Man of the Sea in the story of Sinbad. Asa can't get shed of him. The kid is definitely a victim. You can see that Asa could be a victim too. He isn't sure whether Allbee has a point or not. "Illness, madness, and death were forcing him to confront his fault" if he actually were at fault. He asks two friends, but they give very ambivalent answers or don't see his dilemma.
In another of his novels of question and introspection, Bellow creates a masterpiece of subtle, varying emotion. The characters (at this particular point in their lives) are full of ambivalence, but harbor strong feelings nevertheless. THE VICTIM is a rich stew of philosophy and wondering in a most mundane story. There is no sex or violence, yet the story grips you. What about repentance and the wavering probability of change? Should you repent for something which you feel was not your fault? What do others think of your behavior? Should you be concerned about this? In Bellow's novels nothing has sharp edges. In the end, was all that doubt necessary? Brilliant.
February 10, 2016
Alienation is the theme here. Yes, we’re also in the realm of existentialism, and without a doubt it’s an examination of polite anti-Semitism after the Second World War, but a sense of alienation is all pervading – and that’s both the book’s triumph and its major flaw. The loneliness of the protagonist, Leventhal, a man who is assailed from all sides and who can’t seem to connect on a meaningful level with anybody (except maybe his wife, who is elsewhere for nearly all of the novel), is beautifully captured. Even though the character’s initial passivity makes it, in the early chapters, a less than welcoming read, we slowly gain an understanding of this man and feel frustrated on his behalf at his inability to connect. Empathy is created and the book slowly turns itself into a page-turner. But it’s also a flaw as a sense of frustration is – let’s be honest – not something you really want from a book. Without a doubt it’s beautifully written, conjuring a version of New York in a summer heat-wave (and a married man alone within it) that’s oppressive and glamour-less and a world away from the contemporaneous ‘The Seven Year Itch’; but it’s an alienating book about an alienated character and whereas it's successful in presenting that alienation, an alienating novel is not one you're ever going to love.
October 21, 2017
Secondo romanzo di Bellow (1947), non eccelso ma apprezzabile, con tocchi di classe.
Incipit:
Ci son notti in cui New York è calda come Bangkok. Come se l'intero continente si fosse spostato, fosse scivolato verso l'equatore, come se il grigio e cupo Atlantico si fosse tinto d'un verde tropicale e la gente per le strade fosse una folla scalmanata di fellah formicolanti tra gli stupendi monumenti del loro mistero che, con abbagliante profusione, spargono le loro luci nell'afa notturna senza interruzioni.
Un passo (unico, arbitrariamente diviso in tre):
Non puoi trovar posto per tutto nei tuoi sentimenti, o cedere alla pressione di ogni spinta come una porta girevole, la stessa per tutti, con gente che vi entra o ne esce a suo piacere.
D'altro canto, se ti chiudi in te per paura di essere disturbato, allora diventi un orso nella sua tana d'inverno, o uno specchio avvolto negli stracci. E, come quello specchio, corri minor rischio di spaccarti, ma non puoi neanche splendere.
E invece devi splendere. È qui il punto strano. Tutti vogliono essere ciò che sono fino in fondo. Se ti guardi attorno, è la cosa che più salta agli occhi. Nelle grandi imprese come nei delitti e nel vizio.
Incipit:
Ci son notti in cui New York è calda come Bangkok. Come se l'intero continente si fosse spostato, fosse scivolato verso l'equatore, come se il grigio e cupo Atlantico si fosse tinto d'un verde tropicale e la gente per le strade fosse una folla scalmanata di fellah formicolanti tra gli stupendi monumenti del loro mistero che, con abbagliante profusione, spargono le loro luci nell'afa notturna senza interruzioni.
Un passo (unico, arbitrariamente diviso in tre):
Non puoi trovar posto per tutto nei tuoi sentimenti, o cedere alla pressione di ogni spinta come una porta girevole, la stessa per tutti, con gente che vi entra o ne esce a suo piacere.
D'altro canto, se ti chiudi in te per paura di essere disturbato, allora diventi un orso nella sua tana d'inverno, o uno specchio avvolto negli stracci. E, come quello specchio, corri minor rischio di spaccarti, ma non puoi neanche splendere.
E invece devi splendere. È qui il punto strano. Tutti vogliono essere ciò che sono fino in fondo. Se ti guardi attorno, è la cosa che più salta agli occhi. Nelle grandi imprese come nei delitti e nel vizio.
July 29, 2018
A very well written novel about two flawed characters, Leventhal and Allbee. Leventhal is married to Mary who has gone to help her family out. He lives in an apartment in New York in the 1940s. He is called on to help out with a sick nephew. Allbee, an acquaintance, seeks Leventhal out and immediately blames Leventhal for losing his job. Allbee asserts that Leventhal should do something to make amends. Leventhal who is uncertain of himself, acts the natural victim and has a nagging feeling that Allbee might be right.
Bellow fans will enjoy this engaging story about an ordinary man's feeling of self doubt.
Bellow fans will enjoy this engaging story about an ordinary man's feeling of self doubt.
May 17, 2014
Here's a book about New York City in the summer without air conditioning. Spice it up with a touch of guilt and paranoia, then add a liberal helping of anti-semitism, and it makes for a stew that is squalid, dull, and a bit oppressive. I kept waiting for something to happen, something to break the malaise. But it never did, or when it did, nothing followed as a result, if that makes any sense. Bellow's writing is very strong, but not strong enough really to carry off a book filled with vaguely unpleasant people not doing much of anything.
August 13, 2011
3,5
Asa Leventhal è un ebreo che vive a New York, socialmente ed economicamente ben piazzato. Quando la moglie lo lascia per trascorrere qualche settimana fuori città, Asa comincia ad avvertire una schiacciante sensazione di pesantezza e solitudine. Ad aggravare il tutto subentrano complicazioni di salute del nipotino Mickey e gli allarmismi della cognata Elena, che in assenza del fratello Max ricadono sulle sue spalle. Ma, giacché l’abitudine ci insegna che se qualcosa va male potrà andare solo peggio, Asa viene anche avvicinato da Albee, un suo vecchio conoscente caduto in disgrazia. Albee accusa Leventhal di avergli fatto perdere il lavoro anni addietro e di essere stato l’indiretta causa della morte di sua moglie, da cui all’epoca si separò. Inizialmente Asa respinge le accuse, crede che Albee sia pazzo, lo prende per un ubriacone e uno stalker (diremmo noi). Solo in seguito comincia a sospettare che l’accusa sia più fondata di quanto non sembri. Certo, non era consapevole di aver rovinato Albee, se è accaduto l’ha fatto involontariamente, ma questo non lo esclude da ogni responsabilità. Un comune amico, interrogato sui fatti, dà ragione ad Albee. Tuttavia Asa non si persuade di essere colpevole, o almeno non colpevole di tutto ciò di cui è accusato. Qualsiasi cosa dica o faccia, non riesce a togliersi Albee di torno, tanto che alla fine è costretto a sovvenzionarlo finanziariamente e addirittura ad accoglierlo in casa propria. Aggiungiamo al tutto una propensione all’antisemitismo da parte di Albee e una pungente sofferenza di Asa alla questione antisemita e avremo creato una bomba a orologeria.
Il romanzo è ben scritto, contiene ottimi spunti, si presta a molte interpretazioni. Non per questo mi ha entusiasmata o presa particolarmente. È un romanzo interessante, possiamo dire, ma che definire piacevole sarebbe eccessivo.
Tema portante dell’opera è il rapporto tra vittima e carnefice, ambiguo fin dal titolo. Nel nostro caso, chi è la vittima e chi il carnefice? È Asa il perseguitato e Albee il persecutore oppure è l’opposto? Bellow non offre una risposta al quesito. Certe volte sospettiamo che Asa sia un paranoico e Albee solo uno sfortunato che non ha più niente da perdere. Un’altra volta condividiamo la rabbia di Asa e la sua insofferenza alla persecuzione. Ma chi sia vittima e chi carnefice non è chiaro affatto, perché i ruoli si scambiano di continuo. Personalmente, verso la fine, mi sono trovata a tifare per Albee, giacché il personaggio di Asa è così meschinamente umano che verrebbe voglia di prenderlo a testate.
Altra tematica di rilevanza sociale è il rapporto tra ricchi e poveri. A livello teorico, dice Asa, il rapporto tra le due categorie è semplice: il povero rimprovera il ricco perché, per fortuna o abilità, questo possiede ciò che a lui manca. Ma il povero non rimprovera un ricco specifico: il povero si rivolge alla categoria “uomini ricchi” ed esprime la sua condanna senza una mira precisa. Una relazione diretta tra le due componenti, sostiene Asa, è impensabile quanto assurda. Come devo comportarmi io, uomo ricco, se un uomo povero bussa alla mia porta e accusa me, me nello specifico, me come singolo, di togliergli qualcosa? Cosa posso fare per lui? Come aiutarlo? Come capire se l’accusa che egli mi rivolge è fondata? E questo è proprio ciò che getta Asa nel pallone.
C’è poi la questione del rapporto tra persecuzione e antisemitismo. Siamo nel 1947 e Bellow, proprio come Asa, è un ebreo americano, che non ha conosciuto le persecuzioni naziste. Mentre il loro popolo soffriva e veniva sterminato nei campi di concentramento, Asa e Bellow se ne stavano al sicuro in terra statunitense. Questa “non partecipazione” alla Shoa ha lasciato, negli Ebrei d’America, conseguenze psicologiche di vasta portata e, principalmente, un senso di colpa, il dolore per non aver condiviso la sorte del proprio popolo, un dolore che è anche sollievo, certo, ma che in quanto senso di colpa ha bisogno di essere espiato. Ed ecco così che Asa diventa lui vittima di una persecuzione personale, tutta sua, meno grave ma parallela a quella degli Ebrei d’Europa. È il suo stesso senso di colpa che lo rende particolarmente suscettibile alle battute antisemite di Albee. Albee si esprime per luoghi comuni, niente che possa essere davvero offensivo, ma Asa ne risente in modo traumatico. A metà romanzo lo vediamo esclamare:
“Non vedo come puoi parlare in questo modo. Dici tanto per dire. Milioni di noi sono stati uccisi. Come la mettiamo con questo?”
È l’unico riferimento alla Shoa in un libro scritto da un ebreo nel 1947. Milioni di noi sono stati uccisi. Quanta paura e quanta reticenza, quanta omissione di coscienza si annidano in una semplice frase, buttata là, una frase quasi involontaria.
The Victim è tutto questo e molto di più (la mia ignoranza sulla questione ebraica merita sicuramente un approfondimento). Interessante, ripeto, ma non uno di quei romanzi che ti prende e ti resta nel cuore.
Asa Leventhal è un ebreo che vive a New York, socialmente ed economicamente ben piazzato. Quando la moglie lo lascia per trascorrere qualche settimana fuori città, Asa comincia ad avvertire una schiacciante sensazione di pesantezza e solitudine. Ad aggravare il tutto subentrano complicazioni di salute del nipotino Mickey e gli allarmismi della cognata Elena, che in assenza del fratello Max ricadono sulle sue spalle. Ma, giacché l’abitudine ci insegna che se qualcosa va male potrà andare solo peggio, Asa viene anche avvicinato da Albee, un suo vecchio conoscente caduto in disgrazia. Albee accusa Leventhal di avergli fatto perdere il lavoro anni addietro e di essere stato l’indiretta causa della morte di sua moglie, da cui all’epoca si separò. Inizialmente Asa respinge le accuse, crede che Albee sia pazzo, lo prende per un ubriacone e uno stalker (diremmo noi). Solo in seguito comincia a sospettare che l’accusa sia più fondata di quanto non sembri. Certo, non era consapevole di aver rovinato Albee, se è accaduto l’ha fatto involontariamente, ma questo non lo esclude da ogni responsabilità. Un comune amico, interrogato sui fatti, dà ragione ad Albee. Tuttavia Asa non si persuade di essere colpevole, o almeno non colpevole di tutto ciò di cui è accusato. Qualsiasi cosa dica o faccia, non riesce a togliersi Albee di torno, tanto che alla fine è costretto a sovvenzionarlo finanziariamente e addirittura ad accoglierlo in casa propria. Aggiungiamo al tutto una propensione all’antisemitismo da parte di Albee e una pungente sofferenza di Asa alla questione antisemita e avremo creato una bomba a orologeria.
Il romanzo è ben scritto, contiene ottimi spunti, si presta a molte interpretazioni. Non per questo mi ha entusiasmata o presa particolarmente. È un romanzo interessante, possiamo dire, ma che definire piacevole sarebbe eccessivo.
Tema portante dell’opera è il rapporto tra vittima e carnefice, ambiguo fin dal titolo. Nel nostro caso, chi è la vittima e chi il carnefice? È Asa il perseguitato e Albee il persecutore oppure è l’opposto? Bellow non offre una risposta al quesito. Certe volte sospettiamo che Asa sia un paranoico e Albee solo uno sfortunato che non ha più niente da perdere. Un’altra volta condividiamo la rabbia di Asa e la sua insofferenza alla persecuzione. Ma chi sia vittima e chi carnefice non è chiaro affatto, perché i ruoli si scambiano di continuo. Personalmente, verso la fine, mi sono trovata a tifare per Albee, giacché il personaggio di Asa è così meschinamente umano che verrebbe voglia di prenderlo a testate.
Altra tematica di rilevanza sociale è il rapporto tra ricchi e poveri. A livello teorico, dice Asa, il rapporto tra le due categorie è semplice: il povero rimprovera il ricco perché, per fortuna o abilità, questo possiede ciò che a lui manca. Ma il povero non rimprovera un ricco specifico: il povero si rivolge alla categoria “uomini ricchi” ed esprime la sua condanna senza una mira precisa. Una relazione diretta tra le due componenti, sostiene Asa, è impensabile quanto assurda. Come devo comportarmi io, uomo ricco, se un uomo povero bussa alla mia porta e accusa me, me nello specifico, me come singolo, di togliergli qualcosa? Cosa posso fare per lui? Come aiutarlo? Come capire se l’accusa che egli mi rivolge è fondata? E questo è proprio ciò che getta Asa nel pallone.
C’è poi la questione del rapporto tra persecuzione e antisemitismo. Siamo nel 1947 e Bellow, proprio come Asa, è un ebreo americano, che non ha conosciuto le persecuzioni naziste. Mentre il loro popolo soffriva e veniva sterminato nei campi di concentramento, Asa e Bellow se ne stavano al sicuro in terra statunitense. Questa “non partecipazione” alla Shoa ha lasciato, negli Ebrei d’America, conseguenze psicologiche di vasta portata e, principalmente, un senso di colpa, il dolore per non aver condiviso la sorte del proprio popolo, un dolore che è anche sollievo, certo, ma che in quanto senso di colpa ha bisogno di essere espiato. Ed ecco così che Asa diventa lui vittima di una persecuzione personale, tutta sua, meno grave ma parallela a quella degli Ebrei d’Europa. È il suo stesso senso di colpa che lo rende particolarmente suscettibile alle battute antisemite di Albee. Albee si esprime per luoghi comuni, niente che possa essere davvero offensivo, ma Asa ne risente in modo traumatico. A metà romanzo lo vediamo esclamare:
“Non vedo come puoi parlare in questo modo. Dici tanto per dire. Milioni di noi sono stati uccisi. Come la mettiamo con questo?”
È l’unico riferimento alla Shoa in un libro scritto da un ebreo nel 1947. Milioni di noi sono stati uccisi. Quanta paura e quanta reticenza, quanta omissione di coscienza si annidano in una semplice frase, buttata là, una frase quasi involontaria.
The Victim è tutto questo e molto di più (la mia ignoranza sulla questione ebraica merita sicuramente un approfondimento). Interessante, ripeto, ma non uno di quei romanzi che ti prende e ti resta nel cuore.
May 29, 2024
At times striking but sort of felt like going through the motions
July 5, 2011
The way Bellow writes, the main character Leventhal is a living breathing sweaty presence as heavy as the New York summer humidity and the un-air-conditioned subway cars that pervade this novel. Bellow writes in a precise, descriptive manner, and the tension rarely flags, so it is difficult to turn away from a character (and thus from the novel itself) who otherwise would be too rancorous and unlikeable to endure.
Leventhal is, essentially, angry: at other people who are disloyal or disrespectful to him; at suspected blacklists and the arbitrary spitefulness of those who hire and fire, and thus can squash other men like bugs; at the casual anti-semitism of co-workers and aquaintances; at his own seeming impotence to change any of this. Leventhal, summed up in one line from the novel: "You couldn't say you were master of yourself when there were so many people by whom you could be humiliated."
Into this cauldron steps Allbee (all being?), a hobo (essentially) who believes Leventhal has ruined his life. Allbee is Leventhal's nemesis, a walking and talking version of his deepest fears, all his frustrations with the universe embodied in one man. Allbee has no more than a thread of a case when it comes to placing responsibility for his own failures on Leventhal, but Leventhal's character flaws let this thread turn into the solidest of foundations. Leventhal, in short, knows on some level that he himself is responsible for the awfulness of AllBee(ing), if not for the character Allbee in particular. Allbee is just a symptom.
This line could almost serve as a description of the tension that lasts through almost the entire book: "It came into his head that he was like a man in a mine who could smell smoke and feel heat but never see the flames."
There are only a few spots in the book where this tension dies. In one scene his friend Harkavy invites him to lunch with several older, successful Jewish men. A long discussion of Hollywood actresses ensues. Perhaps the author thought it was amusing. But up to this point it had appeared that Leventhal, who was definitely not born with a silver spoon in his mouth, had had to rely almost exclusively on the goodwill of vaguely anti-semitic wasps for any professional promotion whatsoever. Now it turns out he did indeed have access to connections all along?
Leventhal is, essentially, angry: at other people who are disloyal or disrespectful to him; at suspected blacklists and the arbitrary spitefulness of those who hire and fire, and thus can squash other men like bugs; at the casual anti-semitism of co-workers and aquaintances; at his own seeming impotence to change any of this. Leventhal, summed up in one line from the novel: "You couldn't say you were master of yourself when there were so many people by whom you could be humiliated."
Into this cauldron steps Allbee (all being?), a hobo (essentially) who believes Leventhal has ruined his life. Allbee is Leventhal's nemesis, a walking and talking version of his deepest fears, all his frustrations with the universe embodied in one man. Allbee has no more than a thread of a case when it comes to placing responsibility for his own failures on Leventhal, but Leventhal's character flaws let this thread turn into the solidest of foundations. Leventhal, in short, knows on some level that he himself is responsible for the awfulness of AllBee(ing), if not for the character Allbee in particular. Allbee is just a symptom.
This line could almost serve as a description of the tension that lasts through almost the entire book: "It came into his head that he was like a man in a mine who could smell smoke and feel heat but never see the flames."
There are only a few spots in the book where this tension dies. In one scene his friend Harkavy invites him to lunch with several older, successful Jewish men. A long discussion of Hollywood actresses ensues. Perhaps the author thought it was amusing. But up to this point it had appeared that Leventhal, who was definitely not born with a silver spoon in his mouth, had had to rely almost exclusively on the goodwill of vaguely anti-semitic wasps for any professional promotion whatsoever. Now it turns out he did indeed have access to connections all along?
March 8, 2013
It was impossible to tell, in starting out, what was going to happen. And it was unfair, perhaps, to have to account at forty for what was done at twenty. But unless one was more than human or less than human, as Mr. Schlossberg put it, the payment had to be met. Leventhal disagreed about “less than human.” Since it was done by so many, what was it but human? “More than human” was for a much smaller number. But most people had fear in them – fear of life, fear of death, of life more than death, perhaps. But it was a fact that they were afraid, and when the fear was uppermost they didn’t want any more burdens. At twenty they had vigor and so were careless, and later they felt too weak to be accountable. They said “Just let me alone, that’s all I ask.” But either they found the strength to meet the costs or they refused and gave way to dizziness – dizziness altogether, the dizziness of pleasures before catastrophes. Maybe you could call it “less than human” to refuse; he liked to think “human” meant accountable in spite of many weaknesses – at the last moment, tough enough to hold. But to go by what happened in the majority of cases, it was the dizziness that was most typical and had the best claim to the name.
March 18, 2018
Già al suo secondo romanzo Bellow lascia intravedere le capacità sviluppate meglio nei capolavori successivi. Quei personaggi tormentati di ebreo-newyorkesi arrovellati su se stessi, ironicamente sospesi fra le contraddizioni tra il laicismo di una società dei consumi sempre più sfrenata e una cultura antica attaccata a formalismi che si svuotano sempre più di significato ma che permangono, a costituire un'identità di gruppo, di famiglia. Quelle situazioni quotidiane o occasionali apparentemente di poco peso, ma che possono rendere la vita fastidiosa e complicata. E che possano suscitare quelle domande in cerca di risposte che possano dare un senso a vite tutt'altro che epiche, tutt'altro che eroiche. Ma che in genere non si trovano mai.
A questi stessi temi attingerà tanta letteratura ebraico americana contemporanea (Roth, Richler, fino al cinema di Woody Allen).
A questi stessi temi attingerà tanta letteratura ebraico americana contemporanea (Roth, Richler, fino al cinema di Woody Allen).
September 20, 2020
For the same reasons I liked Mr. Sammler's Planet and Seize the Day, I like this earlier novel of Saul Bellow’s, too. Each is a thinking novel, and each imprints Bellow’s distinctive touch.
The plot centers on the fallout from a job interview. The hero, Asa Leventhal, is beset by a man who lost his job because of something Leventhal once did during an interview. Leventhal had no idea this would happen. He looks back on that interview one way. But as he asks around, he discovers that other people look at his actions that day much differently. Who’s right? What should be done about it now?
In a Bellow trademark, the protagonist thinks through the implications of his acts:
In Leventhal’s mind, this was not even a true injustice, for how could you call anything so haphazard an injustice? It was a shuffle, all, all accidental and haphazard. And somewhere, besides, there was a wrong emphasis.
The story totes up the moral reckoning we all do randomly each day. But the book isn’t just about that; it has plot and color as well – specifically, New-York-in-the-forties color. And in this early work, too, it’s that crisp, clean American style that sets the book apart. I have yet to read a boring page written by Saul Bellow. The Victim is an engaging novel.
The plot centers on the fallout from a job interview. The hero, Asa Leventhal, is beset by a man who lost his job because of something Leventhal once did during an interview. Leventhal had no idea this would happen. He looks back on that interview one way. But as he asks around, he discovers that other people look at his actions that day much differently. Who’s right? What should be done about it now?
In a Bellow trademark, the protagonist thinks through the implications of his acts:
In Leventhal’s mind, this was not even a true injustice, for how could you call anything so haphazard an injustice? It was a shuffle, all, all accidental and haphazard. And somewhere, besides, there was a wrong emphasis.
The story totes up the moral reckoning we all do randomly each day. But the book isn’t just about that; it has plot and color as well – specifically, New-York-in-the-forties color. And in this early work, too, it’s that crisp, clean American style that sets the book apart. I have yet to read a boring page written by Saul Bellow. The Victim is an engaging novel.
July 27, 2018
Reading this in the light of the current UK controversy about Jeremy Corbyn, the Labour Party and antisemitism and immediately after Tom Wolfe’s Bonfire of the Vanities was quite disturbing. The intensive self obsessed portrayal of Jewish introspection and the fear of ‘the other’ (in the immediate aftermath of the Holocaust - the novel was written in 1947) came across strongly.
At the same time, the portrayal or personification of New York in both books as an active character made the choice or chance to read them in quick succession a most fortunate one.
There is no point in repeating other reviews here which sketch out details of the story, including the vital reference to Dostoevsky’s novella on which Bellow draws. However, I was struck by a sense that Kafka - the Trial and the Castle - were also very much in the brooding texture of the writing and the impenetrable mystery which pervaded it. After all, who is The Victim, except perhaps all of us?
Finally, quotes from both the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament are on every other page, also seamlessly woven in and each there to prompt thought and understanding, if the reader can allow him/herself sufficient time.
If Bellow characterised this as an apprenticeship novel, then it’s time for me to read more of the real stuff.
At the same time, the portrayal or personification of New York in both books as an active character made the choice or chance to read them in quick succession a most fortunate one.
There is no point in repeating other reviews here which sketch out details of the story, including the vital reference to Dostoevsky’s novella on which Bellow draws. However, I was struck by a sense that Kafka - the Trial and the Castle - were also very much in the brooding texture of the writing and the impenetrable mystery which pervaded it. After all, who is The Victim, except perhaps all of us?
Finally, quotes from both the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament are on every other page, also seamlessly woven in and each there to prompt thought and understanding, if the reader can allow him/herself sufficient time.
If Bellow characterised this as an apprenticeship novel, then it’s time for me to read more of the real stuff.
October 22, 2014
Every sentence in this 1947 novel by Saul Bellow is rich and worth savoring. As I was following the plot I kept wanting to slow down and read whole paragraphs over again. The setting is so much a part of the tone of the character Leventhal's state of mind. Most of the time it is a stifling NYC August without air conditioning. I really don't know how people survived from the descriptions in this book. Leventhal is an interesting main character. He is very average. His nemesis is a man named Albee who is equally uninteresting on the surface. But the game that is played out is quite captivating. Lovely deep conversations pulsating with arguments and trying to find fundamental truths of being human were my favorite parts to read. Bellow's novel is intelligent and thought provoking. The climax is swift cutting the relationship between the two men like a knife. The conclusion is a little rushed is the only reason I did not give it five stars.
December 24, 2013
I loved this though I can see it is not the most pleasant reading. It felt to me like a very humdrum realistic version of Kafka. Leventhall has a very ordinary life in New York but starts to feel things becoming too much as his wife has left for a few weeks, he is called on to help out with a sick nephew and an acquaintance starts to blame him for losing his job. It has happened to me when problems have cropped up in my private life and my professional life at the same time. It all starts getting out of hand and paranoia starts to set in. I found it easy to read and could associate with Leventhall. We see into his thought processes and I was rooting for him. There is a dramatic climax and a bit of a twist at the end.
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