Product Details
Black Spring

Black Spring
By Henry Miller

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Product Description

Continuing the subversive self-revelation begun in Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn, Henry Miller takes readers along a mad, free-associating journey from the damp grime of his Brooklyn youth to the sun-splashed cafes and squalid flats of Paris. With incomparable glee, Miller shifts effortlessly from Virgil to venereal disease, from Rabelais to Roquefort. In this seductive technicolor swirl of Paris and New York, he captures like no one else the blending of people and the cities they inhabit.

Product Details

  • Amazon Sales Rank: #133027 in Books
  • Published on: 1994-02-11
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 243 pages

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Customer Reviews

An extraordinary book without time5
Excuse me for my bad English: I'm Italian and I don't speak English. I have found Black Spring completely different from Tropics of Cancer: this is blood, sex and hunger, without thinking (so appear, naturally), that is remember and philosophy, a wondereful mix. Miller is a hard man, and like all the hard men, he is also an hopeless romantic.

Where you find the real writer behind all the sexy fuss...5
These stories have in my view some of the best English language prose that was written in the 20th century. A "voice" runs through them, that takes words and carefully crafts them into meaning, so beautifully written it is almost painful. Of course the quality of the stories is somewhat uneven, two or three really stand out, but I find it a marvellous collection overall. An unexpected must-read!

Black Spring -- my first Henry Miller novel5
I just finished reading BLACK SPRING. It blew me away. Henry Miller's storytelling style is so personal, it's kind of like taking an unexpected medium punch in the gut. The geography becomes local, the imagery is rough, obscene and poetic, and goes on for pages at a time. Miller becomes larger than life, powerful through his honesty and vulnerability. I am amazed with his unique ability to effortlessly paint such vivid pictures, wander aimlessly through haunting nightmares, and relive pleasure and passion. From sitting around in the Parisian home of friend Jabberewohl Crondstadt celebrating each other's conquests and madness, to wandering the dark bum-piss hooker-lined streets of forbidden America, I found myself constantly stopping, re-reading and wondering how he took me there. Eventually I stopped raising my hand to ask questions, and just sat back and listened.