I’m familiar with the story of Henry Roth but this is the first book of his I have attempted – his last, heavily edited (it started with 1900 pages and it wound up 300) and published just recently, well after his death in 1995. Maybe he is the literary Charles Ives, a recluse who had writer’s block for 60 years after his first novel in the 1930s. Anyway, he is the real thing, a great narrative style depicting immigrants, hobos, communists, and the well to do in the great depression. And clearly autobiographical – the protagonist has severe writer’s block and lack of self confidence. But a great lyric style to the writing – a pleasure to read. Maybe I will tackle one of the big ones. Give it an A.
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