Henry Miller

Henry Miller’s mind is Paris’ ancient labyrinthine geography. As Miller decides for himself in the Tropic of Cancer, “I made up my mind that I would hold on to

nothing, that I would expect nothing,” establishing himself as a self-directed buddhist and a bit of a obsessive existentialist. Emily described him as “self-indulgent”, which I took to mean gluttonous, lustful, etc, when in actuality, she had meant it in the sense of indulgent in one’s self, more commonly known as egotism.

At one point, reading something like this would have installed in me confidence in knowing that my own similar thoughts and epiphanies had registered in other people as well, allowing me to breach out of my shyness and verbalize if not put into practice those ideologies. At this point in my life, reading this is not only boring but also a little disheartening, as I ask myself, is this all there is to learn? I know, of course, that there are thousands upon thousands of textbooks and continuous research, entire fields dedicated to finding the truth behind our world and the mysteries within it, yet the more I learn, the more I realize the triviality of information. This is among many reasons why I appreciate Lang so much, as it esteems informed opinion over excess of facts. Facts are false and often skewed by time, however truth is eternal.

Several questions arose in my mind when I was reading the excerpt from Henry Miller’s Walking Up and Down in China. Had Henry Miller just come to this state of understanding when he wrote this excerpt, or had he been harboring them until this point and finally got the drug-induced opportunity to write them? Had he read about the ideas? Did he come up with them himself? Are these realizations simply universal truths that are accessible to everyone, yet accessed by only some?

While reflecting on Henry Miller, I got an urgent craving for Nirvana’s Come As You Are, which makes me wonder if Miller and Nirvana have some kind of latent relationship: perhaps Kurt Cobain’s, “I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not” philosophy, which Miller most definitely would subscribe to were he had been born a century later. In fact, I would rather say Miller is the Kobain of his generation, though I’m sure that’s an offensive statement to some. 

In recent weeks, I have felt a return to a version of myself which was very fondly missed. Perhaps it was the decision to be this person that I made, or the decision to follow the fondness of the heart, rather than the logic of the head, an idea which Miller brushes upon.

The following excerpt, the essay titled “The Sexual Geography of Expatriate Paris”, was a bit shocking and focused more on the sexual aspects of Anaïs Nin’s writing, rather than the emotional aspect of her overt sexuality, seeing her lewdness not as a manifestation symptomatic of her extremely strong interpersonal intuition (Nin was a Pisces sun, and a Libra rising), but as sexual explicitness for the sake of shock and awe. As an Aries, it is understandable that Donald Pizer simply does not understand such fluid boundaries between emotional and sexual desires, but instead sees it as, “a fusing of sexual and artistic expression,” (Pizer, 173). As a Libra rising, Nin’s expression is guided by Venus, and her life-long quest is to have a deep understanding of her ineffable emotions.

I think it is wrong of Pizer to characterize her writing as about her sexuality, but instead about her deep emotional pull towards Miller and his wife June, probably for the same reason anyone else is drawn to Miller, because of his essence of being, which is conveyed in his writing, and which separates him from any other author I’ve read. In my opinion, this ability that Miller has to express not his opinions or his thoughts, but himself, is what constitutes a truly great writer; Miller’s literature is like a horcrux in which he has eternally stored a part of his soul.

I do not wish to relate this to myself because I cannot do so without revealing much more of myself than I wish to right now on this public forum, but I most definitely feel a strong connection with Miller’s realizations, especially those about the future and the past, and those about metaphysical phenomena which are scoffed at by many. I do not consider myself a religious person in the sense that I have learned it to mean, but I know, secretly, am a very religious person as is Miller, and as is Nin. Again, not in the sense that I, or anyone else for that matter, would think it to mean. It is a subjective and florid religion, one with no definition and no gospel, no veda, no scripture, no psalm, though it is expressed in everything and everything is expressed in it.

Henry Miller is fearless.