Look Homeward, Angel

by Thomas Wolfe 1929

Wow, what a book.  Difficult?  Yes.  Rewarding? Yes.  Accessible?  Yes.

This book comes at the end (maybe a little later) of an era of heavily descriptive Realism and early Modernism.  Henry James and Edith Wharton and Theodore Dreiser were all well past their heyday, Ulysses by James Joyce had been published (and banned) seven years earlier, Lady Chatterly's Lover, by DH Lawrence, had been published (and banned) a year earlier, Hemmingway had published his first novel, and The Great Gatsby was a few years old.  It was the Jazz Age, and nineteenth century Realism was supplanted by exciting new writers who were breaking the shackles of the forms of the previous generation, a trend we've seen happen over and over again in the last few hundred years; the swinging of the cultural pendulum, a rich subject for much longer writings than this.

Consider Thomas Wolfe a little old-fashioned then for wanting to carry forward a European tradition to the American continent.  He saw infinite potential and newness in the Carolina hills, land untouched by the great writers of the past, where he could write without the shadows of giants hanging over him.  His story is largely autobiographical in the loosest sense, in that every setting and character lives and breathes as something known by the author.  He was in fact criticized as being a one-trick-pony, too autobiographical, limited in his subject matter, which he took great issue with.  He did not live long enough to publish much else to prove them wrong, but Look Homeward, Angel is a great gift to have left behind.

How about a brief synopsis then, after laying it on thick with the theory and biography?  All right.

Our protagonist is Eugene Gant, but our story begins with his father, who goes mostly by just 'Gant,' as a boy.  Gant wanders around from Pennsylvania and eventually settles in the North Carolina hills, where most of the story takes place.  Gant is, I think, the most compelling and fascinating character in the book, and my favorite.  He is a tragically flawed man, a wild drunk at times (he has his 'sprees'), and a self-pitying blowhard much of the other time.  His wife Eliza is a savvy real estate trader, rich and frugal, a Scrooge of sorts.  Their antagonistic relationship is not only entertaining, with Gant's denouncement of property and oaths of vitriol, but rich and idiosyncratic.  They more or less get along somehow through the book.

The moment we are introduced to Eugene is demonstrative of the book's style: there is a detailed account of his first sensations and memories as a toddler, followed by his learning to rea, evoking the myth of Prometheus, for all its flashes of fiery importance.  What saves this book from being a real snooze however is the vivid and poetic impact of these passages.  Let's skip ahead to when Eugene is a teenager, and first gets drunk.  He's tried a few sips before, but this is his first real drink.  His family goes out to Christmas shop after he has his taste:

" "Son," said Eliza gravely... "I don't want you ever to acquire a taste for it."...

" "No," said Gant.  "It'll ruin you quicker than anything in the world, if you do."...

[Eugene has the drink, his family leaves]

"What he had drunk beat pleasantly through his veins in warm pulses, bathing the tips of ragged nerves, giving to him a feeling of power and tranquility he had never known.  Presently, he went to the pantry where the liquor was stored.  He took a water tumbler and filled it experimentally with equal portions of whiskey, gin, and rum.  Then, seating himself at the kitchen table, he began to drink the mixture slowly.

"The terrible draught smote him with the speed and power of a man's fist.  He was made instantly drunken, and he knew instantly why men drank.  It was, he knew, one of the greatest moments in his life—he lay, greedily wathing the mastery of the grape over his virgin flesh, like a girl for the first time in the embrace of her lover.  And suddenly, he knew how completely he was his father's son—how completely, and with what added power and exquisite refinement of sensation, was he Gantian.  He exulted in the great length of his limbs and his body, through which the mighty liquor could better work its wizardry.  In all the earth there was no other like him, no other fitted to be so sublimely and magnificently drunken.  It was greater than all the music he had ever heard; it was as great as the highest poetry.  Why had he never been told?  Why had no one ever written adequately about it?  Why, when it was possible to buy a god in a bottle, and drink him off, and become a god oneself, were men not forever drunken?"

And poor Eugene, a once promising, if eccentric, boy anointed by his parents as the savior of the family, the smart one, the lawyer, the politician, governer, president! starts his slide.

It's not as simple as all that of course, but what's important in remembering this novel is the verisimilitude of the characters and their emotions.  Eugene's story is certainly compelling, and a whole hell of a lot happens to him on the 500+ pages of this book.  The image of Gant that I am left with is mythological, he is a Titan, a relic, but one who cannot die, cursed and diseased from the start but outliving all around him.   A beautiful and grotesque image.

You can probably tell I liked this book, and found it rather invigorating, but there are some negatives.  At times the loquacious style does wear at the reader's patience, especially when dwelling on ancillary characters.  You'll have to not mind frequent trips to the dictionary for words like alexin, phthisic, frome, guerdon, gabular, ptotic, flivver, esymplastic, oh my.  I could go on, but, well, you get the idea.  This book is enjoyable today because despite its anachronisms in style and vocabulary, it shines as a crystalline vision of the Gant family, so ambitious that no detail is spared, nothing lost.  A Great American Novel.

Next up is Cane, by Jean Toomer, and also coming soon: the best albums of 2013

Donate Bitcoins