Status
Available
Collection
Publication
New York New Directions, 1958.
Description
'Out of the sea, as if Homer himself had arranged it for me, the islands bobbed up, lonely, deserted, mysterious in the fading light' Enraptured by a young woman's account of the landscapes of Greece, Henry Miller set off to explore the Grecian countryside with his friend Lawrence Durrell in 1939. In The Colossus of Maroussi he describes drinking from sacred springs, nearly being trampled to death by sheep and encountering the flamboyant Greek poet Katsumbalis, who 'could galvanize the dead with his talk'. This lyrical classic of travel writing represented an epiphany in Miller's life, and is the book he would later cite as his favourite. 'One of the five greatest travel books of all time' Pico Iyer
Media reviews
I read the book and immediately gave it away, not bearing for it to be unshared. I had entered a new realm. I had confirmed that my responsibilities were not just to myself, or to little England, but to the imagination and to something far greater than my present parlous condition. My immediate
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miserableness and loneliness were as nothing. And so what if I had nothing to show for life, no house or job, money or prospects? I too was a millionaire in spirit. I too had self-belief. Show Less
User reviews
LibraryThing member kant1066
On the recommendation of his friend and fellow author Lawrence Durrell, Henry Miller set out for Greece in 1939. After a decade of frenzied writing in which both “Tropic of Cancer “and “Tropic of Capricorn” were composed, Miller’s intention was really nothing more than to relax in
“Colossus of Maroussi” is pure prosopography, which isn’t of course to say that he does not give flashing insight into the individual lives of others. In fact, the colossus of the title – a Greek poet by the name of George Katsimbalis – has a personality which sometimes threatens to marginalize Miller’s. We also meet as a minor character the poet George Seferis long before he became the first Greek to win the Nobel Prize for Literature.
At one point, while Durrell and Miller are staring up into space, Durrell calls him a Rosicrucian. This is no lie. Not only does Miller have a preternatural affinity for the mystical and transcendent, but the various meditative bits of philosophy and courageously inventive speculative prose that dot the book are beautifully conceived, written in a kind of ecstatic encounter with the holy. Speaking of Rosicrucians…
“Saturn is the symbol of all omens and superstitions, the phony proof of divine entropy, phony because if it were true that the universe is running down Saturn would have melted away long ago. Saturn is as eternal as fear and irresolution, growing more milky, more cloudy, with each compromise, each capitulation. Timid souls cry for Saturn just as children are reputed to cry for Castoria. Saturn gives us only what we ask for, never an ounce extra. Saturn is the white hope of the white race which prattles endlessly about the wonders of nature and spends its time killing off the greatest wonder of all – MAN.”
To call this a travelogue is to tremendously devalue it. While its subject of the putative love of Greece and the Greek people, Miller’s approach is more reminiscent of Julian of Norwich’s “Revelations of Divine Love” or Thomas Merton’s “Seven Storey Mountain.” For him, Greece was a religious experience, and all the more precious because it was purely accidental. Miller was a mortal Antaeus whose powers seem like they would have been irrevocably sapped when he was finally compelled to bring himself back to the United States, something he only did because he saw the writing that Hitler was scrawling on the European political wall.
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preparation for a journey to Tibet in which he planned to, in a popular phrase Miller himself would have despised, “find himself.” “Colossus of Maroussi” is pure prosopography, which isn’t of course to say that he does not give flashing insight into the individual lives of others. In fact, the colossus of the title – a Greek poet by the name of George Katsimbalis – has a personality which sometimes threatens to marginalize Miller’s. We also meet as a minor character the poet George Seferis long before he became the first Greek to win the Nobel Prize for Literature.
At one point, while Durrell and Miller are staring up into space, Durrell calls him a Rosicrucian. This is no lie. Not only does Miller have a preternatural affinity for the mystical and transcendent, but the various meditative bits of philosophy and courageously inventive speculative prose that dot the book are beautifully conceived, written in a kind of ecstatic encounter with the holy. Speaking of Rosicrucians…
“Saturn is the symbol of all omens and superstitions, the phony proof of divine entropy, phony because if it were true that the universe is running down Saturn would have melted away long ago. Saturn is as eternal as fear and irresolution, growing more milky, more cloudy, with each compromise, each capitulation. Timid souls cry for Saturn just as children are reputed to cry for Castoria. Saturn gives us only what we ask for, never an ounce extra. Saturn is the white hope of the white race which prattles endlessly about the wonders of nature and spends its time killing off the greatest wonder of all – MAN.”
To call this a travelogue is to tremendously devalue it. While its subject of the putative love of Greece and the Greek people, Miller’s approach is more reminiscent of Julian of Norwich’s “Revelations of Divine Love” or Thomas Merton’s “Seven Storey Mountain.” For him, Greece was a religious experience, and all the more precious because it was purely accidental. Miller was a mortal Antaeus whose powers seem like they would have been irrevocably sapped when he was finally compelled to bring himself back to the United States, something he only did because he saw the writing that Hitler was scrawling on the European political wall.
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LibraryThing member chosler
Covering Miller's travels in Greece (1939-1940) following his time in Paris writing the "Tropic" books, this book stands out as being a quite different beast. Totally lacking in explicit language or sexual conquests, "Maroussi" reflects more of a spiritual awakening in a non-secular, more
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humanistic sense, detailed in a series of epiphanies as Miller journeys from Athens to ancient spots such as Eleusis, Mycenae, and Knossos. Miller fully acknowledges his ignorance of the Greek language and the country's history, and the continual mixing of school-boy memories of Greek mythology with Miller's observations of contemporary Greece will certainly annoy those familiar with ancient Greece. However, the visceral flow of Miller’s language as he growingly comes to realize his path to happiness through transmission of the human spirit more than makes up for any inaccuracies. Highlights include fascinating portraits of the larger-than-life poets Katsimbalis (the colossus of the title) and Lawrence Durrell, a surrealistic bebop riff on French bourgeois living, an ominous portrait of a nation about to be swept up in WWII, and a stark, revelatory passage set literally atop Agamemnon's tomb (or it's supposed location). No red flags. Show Less
LibraryThing member jwhenderson
The Colossus of Maroussi is a literary memoir about Greece. More than that it is a paean to the idea of Greece as Henry Miller shares some of his life and love of that land and its meaning for him. The incandescent spirit of Miller and Greece is on every page and the joy that creates cannot help
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but permeate the reader's soul. Miller's descriptive powers are immense and he evokes beautiful sunlit mornings and evenings on the Aegean with ease. For those who already know Greece from the classics it is a reaffirmation of the meaning of the people and their land; for those who do not already know Greece it is an awakening of the spirit. With literary references and reverential treatment of the gods and demigods present everywhere this book takes you an a journey that you do not want to see end. Ever since I read his The Tropic of Cancer I have loved Miller's work. This memoir provides another reason to embrace his literary world. Show Less
LibraryThing member poetontheone
A Millerian travel book, is of course, not really a travel book at all. Miller's memoir of his time spent in Greece as it waits on the brink of war forgoes the frothy mouthed bombast of the Tropic books, but retains its moods of exaltation, this time directed at the rich beauty of the ruins and the
Miller's characterizations of his enigmatic friend Katsimbalis are equally entertaining, and the appendix of Durrell's letter where he tells Miller of how Katsimbalis made the cocks crow throughout Athens is striking. Some of Miller's best writing is here. His free jazz prose poem retort against a Frenchwoman who expresses her distaste for Greece is pure surrealism when Agamemnon becomes the personification of Boogie Woogie and births Louis Armstrong. Equally great is Miller's recounting of his visit to the astronomical observatory, where he describes the sight of the stars as "an effulgent rose window shattered by a hand grenade."
And not a lick of sex in the whole book. Take that, Kate Millett.
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warmth and hospitality of the people whom Miller encounters. His encounters with Greeks who have lived in America, and who extol its virtues to him expecting enthusiastic agreement are, of course, disappointed when Miller airs his views. Miller's characterizations of his enigmatic friend Katsimbalis are equally entertaining, and the appendix of Durrell's letter where he tells Miller of how Katsimbalis made the cocks crow throughout Athens is striking. Some of Miller's best writing is here. His free jazz prose poem retort against a Frenchwoman who expresses her distaste for Greece is pure surrealism when Agamemnon becomes the personification of Boogie Woogie and births Louis Armstrong. Equally great is Miller's recounting of his visit to the astronomical observatory, where he describes the sight of the stars as "an effulgent rose window shattered by a hand grenade."
And not a lick of sex in the whole book. Take that, Kate Millett.
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LibraryThing member clothingoptional
This is Henry Miller's best book. In fact, I would go as far as saying this is his only book. I've read a lot of Miller over the years and this was the only book of his where I could tell the subject flowed through him instead of his paddling upstream against the current. It is a book written by a
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man who was at peace with himself. Too bad he couldn't continue to write this way... Show Less
LibraryThing member girlsgonechild
Gorgeous. Read this in Greece and it made the trip. Miller is a genius and everything he writes is magic. Colossus is one of my very favorite Miller books... perfect.
LibraryThing member vikki
When one hears the name Henry Miller one thinks of the “Tropics” and “The Rosy Crucifixion” and rightfully so. Though he may have had antecedents (if genius has antecedents) in Cendrars and Celine, he broke new ground in American writing and was truly revelatory for readers half a century
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ago. Readers like myself who lived near Big Sur and couldn’t get enough of his, at times, bombastic and bellicose prose. But there is nothing bombastic in “The Colossus of Maroussi” and perhaps for that reason it’s the one book of his I have the greatest affection for. In the “The Colossus” everything is clear. Water becomes an event, light is transcendent. This is not so much a book about Greece (though, as one reviewer noted, it is one of the greatest travel books of all time), but about a modern man who rediscovers himself in the cradle of Western civilization. Miller feels everything about Greece; the heat, dust, the people, the space and its’ ambiance. It feels as though everything came together for him in this book; a grand coalescence, if you will. It is about the spirit of a place and mans place in the infinity of being. Show Less
LibraryThing member Schmerguls
This book is supposed to be a glorification of paganism, There are digs at Christianity, but they are purely non-logical, purely outbursts of Miller's sensitivitized emotions, and so nothing like, say, Norman Douglas' or James Branch Cabell's..Miller seemed to be carried away by unreasonable
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paroyxms to me, and I did not appreciate the book. Show Less
LibraryThing member linda.lappin
Unforgettable, raucous, dazzling,fun, at times zany, poignant, shot through with deep insights, as prescient as Cassandra in some moments. Miller underwent a revelatory experience in the tomb of Agamemnon which would change his life forever. "I say the whole world fanning out in every direction
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from this spot was once alive in a way that no man has ever dreamed of..." But don't just take his word for it. As he urges in this book, go there and see for yourself! Show Less
LibraryThing member jonfaith
Apparently I read torrent of bullshit back in my early 20s; the book is littered with my underlinings and exclamations. That said, i had no recollection of the book, more precisely, there isn't anything to distinguish it from the other open sewers of Miller's ouevre. The entire second section of
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the book should be purged by the Miller estate. I only (re)read this as it was selected by my friend Roger. Show Less
LibraryThing member jordanjones
Hardly anyone I have ever met, unless they are a serious Henry Miller devotee or an avid reader of Greek travelogues, has heard of this book.
It's a wild ride, demonstrating both the liveliness of the author, but also how alive the Greece and Greeks he knew were. My memory of it has faded over the
It's a wild ride, demonstrating both the liveliness of the author, but also how alive the Greece and Greeks he knew were. My memory of it has faded over the
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something like 30 years (!) since I read it, but I still have a strong impression of light, of dancing, of the castigation of Germans, Americans, and Britons in favor of a more alive southern European type. (Ironically, or perhaps simply pointedly, Miller was 100% German-American.) Show Less
LibraryThing member wunder
OK, this is The Revelation of Henry Miller (in Greece), but don't judge and go along for the ride. You'll want to see that Aegean light and the bloody rocks for yourself.
This edition has a great intro by Will Self who describes Miller as "a compulsive expositor and deranged didact". Hard to argue
But don't believe me, here is Miller from the last page of the book: "The Greek earth opens before me like the Book of Revelation. I never knew the earth contains so much; I had walked blindfolded, with faltering, hesitant steps; I was proud and arrogant, content to live the false, restricted life of the city man. The light of Greece opened my eyes, penetrated my pores, expanded my whole being."
This edition has a great intro by Will Self who describes Miller as "a compulsive expositor and deranged didact". Hard to argue
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with that when Miller expounds on Homer while admitting that he's never read a line of the Iliad. The weird part is that the exposition works.But don't believe me, here is Miller from the last page of the book: "The Greek earth opens before me like the Book of Revelation. I never knew the earth contains so much; I had walked blindfolded, with faltering, hesitant steps; I was proud and arrogant, content to live the false, restricted life of the city man. The light of Greece opened my eyes, penetrated my pores, expanded my whole being."
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