292. The Devil in the Flesh

The Devil in the Flesh
Raymond Radiguet
1923
Around 120 pages

Raymond Radiguet wrote this novel between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. What was I writing when I was that age? Oh, right, my earliest blog posts. That's disheartening.

In the sudden aftermath of World War I, a sixteen-year-old boy falls for a married woman, whose husband is still away at the front. As a statutory rapist, Marthe is portrayed pretty sympathetically.  And the boy is smug, as boys that age are.

I'm always amazed when a teenager is able to produce anything other than embarrassing moments, which explains my unapologetic fascination with Olivia Rodrigo. It's still an impressive work regardless of his age. I think cynical youths often mistake their pessimism for wisdom. I think Radiguet captures the dramatics of adolescent romances well, but man, is the main character self-satisfied about it.

Probably not a must read, but enjoyable and will tide you over until The Graduate.

RATING: ****-

Interesting Facts:

The story was semi-autobiographical based on Radiguet's relationship with an older woman.

Radiguet died at the age of 20 from typhus.

UP NEXT: Zeno's Conscience by Italo Svevo

291. Cane

Cane
Jean Toomer
1923
Around 140 pages

I recently wrote in a blog post about my intentions to read more poetry. Cane is about as poetic as this List gets. By the way, let me know your favorite poets in the comments and I can check them out. My preferred style is Dorothy Parker meets William Shakespeare. If you don't leave a comment, my perennial illiteracy is on your head.

Cane is structured as a series of vignettes about the experiences of African Americans in the South. He intersperses his short stories with poems, and one section is written as a short play. So I suppose it's debatable whether this is even a novel or not. Ah, modernism is upon us. We best be ready for that storm.

I'm glad the List isn't skipping over the Harlem Renaissance in favor of everything going on in Europe at the time. My favorite poem was "Harvest Song" which has a fantastic opening line "I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown." I tend to think of the Harlem Renaissance as a distinctly American style, but you can see the influence of, lord help us, James Joyce in his writing.

Writing that left a bad taste in my mouth.

RATING: ****-

Interesting Facts:

Toomer said he was not a "Negro" and would not feature himself as such. 

Langston Hughes said of the work: "(Excepting the works of Du Bois) Cane contains the finest prose written by a Negro in America." Which probably pissed off Toomer.

Alice Walker said she couldn't exist without this book. 

UP NEXT: The Devil in the Flesh by Raymond Radiguet. 

290. Antic Hay

Antic Hay
Aldous Huxley

1923
Around 350 pages

I am getting close to the 300 milestone, which will surely call for some celebratory cake and crumpets. Although a quick perusal of those final last ten novels doesn't have me too excited about what lies in store. Maybe they will prove me wrong.

It's difficult to give a plot summary about this one. Theodore Gumbril ambles around London, unsure of how he'll adjust to a post-war setting. He even resorts to dressing up as "The Complete Man." "The Complete Man" wears a false beard and approaches women he doesn't know in public. Evidently this book has inspired many copycats.

Like all Huxley works, this was deeply philosophical. There really wasn't much of a plot. I prefer novels that a bit more grounded.  He hasn't yet perfected his storytelling technique yet, although this is still a thematic improvement from Crome Yellow.

I understand this book being cut from future editions, but you can do worse than a Huxley novel.

RATING: ***--

Interesting Facts:

Mentioned in Brideshead Revisted. 

UP NEXT: Cane by Jean Toomer.

289. Amok

Amok
Stefan Zweig
1922
Around 60 pages

It's nice that the Listmakers are giving us a reprieve from the 1000 page tomes they typically like to assign. I recently read a Jules Barne novel where he makes an allusion to Zweig. The main character approaches a woman who is reading Zweig, and hits her with this line: "So you've finally reached the end of the alphabet." By the way, that would totally work on me.

A nameless narrator meets an...eccentric doctor on a ship to Europe. The doctor tells him his story. Basically, a woman asked him to give her an abortion and he became obsessed with her. 

The doctor character is portrayed just about as sympathetically as possible. Having a disturbed and abusive man get a pass like that can be difficult to digest. But it's also an impressive feat to make the doctor's actions almost seem conscionable. 

I'm interested to see what else Zweig has in store. I shall parade around with his works, prowling for men who've read Barnes.

RATING: ***--

Interesting Facts:

The title of the book comes from the Indonesian word "amok." The term refers to people who attack others in supposedly blind rage randomly and fearlessly.

UP NEXT: Antic Hay by Aldous Huxley. I read this when I was going through my Huxley phase.