C'est Saul (part one)

I wanted to write in length on Saul Bellow, but instead I think I'll do it in clips. It's likely that the next month of my entries (or longer) will be on him with a brief introduction to his longtime friend Allan Bloom.

To coin him as an “intellectual” or a fascinating man is and absolute understatement. But I don’t know where else to begin. So on that note, here's Saul Bellow.

To list all but a few of his numerous accomplishments would be extensive, but I can will be as brief, but in as much detail as I feel is imperative. As per the last entry, birth and origin are not much of a concern or interest to me. His early education and associations made throughout his academic years are worthy of biding over.

Bellow began his studies at the University of Chicago, then later moved to Northwestern University where graduated with honours in Sociology and Anthropology. His ability to have in depth observations of human activities make for brilliance in his works. Here are some astounding and astute descriptions of some of the characters in More Die of Heartbreak. Some humorous and beyond witty, others are saddening for the soul.


Love was apparently the cause. Benn had fallen for the daughter of Cohen the Tailor. She was slight, pale, pretty, said mother. "Only malnutrition can give you that wonderful look. After a few months here I can tell you that. The Cohen girl had a thyroid surplus and an iron deficiency. You have to live in the back of the tailor shop and sleep in a room without a window to have that kind of charm".

The performers were identified on placards as Miss Osaka, Miss Tokyo, Miss Nara, Miss Yokohama, Miss Nagasaki. They wore brocaded kimonos and ceremonial obis, they had on clogs and carried paper parasols, their hair stood high, their faces were chalked and painted. Each little maid from school sang in a sweet tremolo. After this preliminary put-on they got down to business, like strippers the world over. These were particularly pretty, dainty girls. Then two a time, these young things entered a plexiglass stage.

I could see that Uncle's reputation as a humorist may have been based on cross-cultural misunderstanding. The junior colleagues laughed a great deal, perhaps out of politeness. (Once again, politeness: Politeness gets finnier the more the rules of order disintegrate).


Describing any characters to a further degree in this novel would be detrimental, as per I'm not writing a book review.

I want to be careful but expansive with my writings on Bellow, well researched. That takes time.  I'm fixated so I will not stray. Part two of manymanymany will appear this weekend.

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