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Classic Literature. Fiction. HTML: Pulitzer Prize-winning author Bernard Malamud�??s first novel is still one of the best ever written about baseball. His story of a superbly gifted �??natural�?� at play in the fields of the old daylight baseball era is invested with the hardscrabble poetry, at once grand and altogether believable, that runs through all his best work. First published in 1952, this novel has since become an American classic. Five decades later, Alfred Kazin�??s comment still holds true: "Malamud has done something which�??now that he has done it!�??looks as if we have been waiting for it all our lives. He has really raised the whole passion and craziness and fanaticism of baseball as a popular spectacle to its ordained place i… (more)
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The first thing you need to do is forget about the movie. It can't help but color your perception as you're reading, and the movie is completely
Although I've always been a fan of the movie, I feel a little let down and think I probably like it less now that I've read the book. This is a much deeper, complex story than the movie.
One thing I've noticed with the reviews is that some people just don't like books that aren't "feel good" stories. It seems to me that people can read and watch stories of murder and horrific acts all day, but give them something that actually shows the pain of everyday life and they get irritated and/or angry. This is not a "feel good" story.
I recommend the book to baseball fans as it does include some wonderful game descriptions. I also think American history buffs will enjoy this book. I also recommend it to any one who enjoys reading fine writing and an interesting take on the "novel" as a form. Malamud has fallen a bit in popularity I think but he deserves to be rediscovered.
That world, for him, is baseball, and for many years it was truly America's game. The Black Sox scandal was so painful to the country precisely because it broke the sweet image of the boys of
Roy Hobbes is a magical rube when we first meet him, and awful things happen to him almost immediately as he travels from private kinds of dysfunction to the dysfunction of sports. 15 years later, he comes back to baseball as if to reluctantly fulfill a destiny, and for a while we think he might do it. His skill, his determination, the way he seems to inspire a cellar team and the public mix with huge appetites, and a terrible misjudgement of the people around him.
Malamud's writing takes unexpected mystical, surreal flights as he describes peoples' dreams, events on the field and off. His women are not so much stereotypic as iconic in the manner of legend, dangerous, deceitful, inspiring, a test of Roy's purity and faults. Will he, at the end, ask the right question and save the world?
but ultimately is too boring due to Roy's obsession with the truly odious Memo.
His sellout did NOT ring true to his deepest Wonderboy character.
[The Natural], Malamud's first published novel, is a baseball story. It's about a gifted athlete whose hopes and dreams are
Time passes, fifteen years to be exact, apparently without notice. Even a sleazy sportsgossiper, who witnessed Hobbs' three-pitch strikeout of The Whammer, can't place him. But he's been gifted with a contract to play for the sub-basement dwelling New York Knights. Curiously (to me), Roy's first brush with greatness was as a pitcher. Now, he's a hitter exclusively employing a homemade bat. It has a name, Wonderboy, and a home, an old bassoon case. As a hitter, he displaces the Knights' big star, and he goes on, despite a couple of worrying hitting slumps, to carry the Knights into a one-game playoff for the league-championship pennant (and a trip to the World Series).
Throughout, it seems to me, Roy is his own worst enemy. He trusts only Sam Simpson, a baseball outcast and a sneaking drinker, and Sam dies during the awesome three-pitch strike-out of The Whammer. In his second run at greatness, he goes it alone. It reminds me of a line: "I'm not saying you're stupid, I'm just saying you have bad luck when it comes to thinking." He holds virtually everyone at arm's length. Though he wins the hearts of fans, they are fickle. He certainly didn't win the heart of this reader. And so I ask, what exactly does the author mean?