I think the cover picture tells us what we're in for. Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller, is "immense, life changing, sexually provocative," according to Amazon readers, and "a ranting, randy book, carried along by a deep sensual enjoyment of living", according to the front cover.Saddo cheapskates can read the full text online. There's also a movie with Miller played by Rip Torn.
But, all that to one side, we all know we're only reading it because James thought it was about a different Tropic of Cancer.
We're meeting on 17 October, at Omar's.
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Hey, wait a minute! This isn't the soft-porn epic it's packaged up to be. There's no erotica here.
In fact, it's like an even more disillusioned Celine - only this time it's an American come to live in Europe, rather than the other way round.
For the first 60 pages, I was wondering - who's Boris? Who's Tania? Who's Cronstadt? But I don't think even Heny Miller cares.
By page 100, he's like this: "For weeks, for months, for years in fact all my life, I had been looking forard to something happening, some intrinsic event that would alter my life, and now suddenly, inspired by the abolute hopelessness of everything, I felt relieved, felt as though a great burden had been lifted off my shoulders."
It's sheer degeneracy. They had one more copy on the shelf in the library at Lower Marsh...
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