I think you're confusing Bellow's technique in Augie March -- "the syntactical manifestation of Augie�s large, robust ego" -- with Bellow himself.

Just because Bellow's prose reflect's Augie egotism, doesn't make Bellow a narcissist.

Roth actually does a surprisingly good job of explaining why Augie March is a great novel and Bellow a great writer.

Of course if you want to talk narcissist blowhards who are crappy novelists, Roth is the guy. Oh wait, you seem, iirc, to actually like Roth, right? I guess all those who have the misfortune of being from North Jersey have to stick together!

(Missed a great football match this morning between ManUnited and Newcastle. The boys in red won 4 to 1.)

Wrong:

http://www.brothersjudd.com/index.cfm/fuseaction/reviews.detail/book_id/913/

My mistake, but I was almost certain you made a Roth comparison in one of your recent Bellow-bashing posts that had some praise for Roth in it. Of course I'm too lazy to look it up so.

Jim -

OJ sorta liked Roth's "American Pastoral". (Subtitled: "From Newark to Rural New England, A Familiar Odyssey".)

By the way, I was under the impression that Roth disliked Bellow rather intensely.

I do agree with OJ on at least one matter of literary taste: Ray Bradbury's "Dandelion Wine" is a masterpiece.

The only thing more opaque than Bellow's prose is Roth's review.

Was once attracted by the theories of Marx? Thinks a bit too independently? A tad too skeptical for one's taste? Not Jewish enough (or at least not the "right kind")? Doesn't seem to follow the party line?

Or merely a nattering, long-winded narcissist?

Or maybe, as a secularist who's fascinated by the varieties of human experience---who's intensely interested in the immediacy and cultivation of the soul---he poses an unusually potent threat?

Whatever. Just assign him to the Index and be done with it.

Not being read saves the trouble of an Index.

Modern literature is crap for the reasons I've rehearsed before, but Bellow is one of its best practitioners, a great stylist and every once in a while gives a hint that he understands that modern literature is crap.

I've just tried my "open the book at random" test on Ravelstein, which is probably unfair to Bellow but was the Bellow novel closest to the computer:

It thrilled Ravelstein to talk about celebrities. At Idlewild, once, he had spotted Elizabeth Taylor and for the better part of an hour tracked her through the crowds. It especially pleased him to have recognized her. Because she was so faded, it took some doing. She seemed to know that her glamour was gone.

The most interesting thing about this paragraph, which is nice if workman-like, is the reference to "Idlewild." The airport was renamed for JFK in 1963, long before Ravelstein/Bloom was a best selling author and Elizabeth Taylor had faded.

Here's the passage the precedes my random paragraph:

Ravelstein had come to agree that it was important to note how people looked. Their ideas are not enough--their theorectical convictions and political views. If you don't take into account their haircuts, the hang of their pants, their taste in skirts and blouses, their style of driving a car or eating a dinner, your knowledge is incomplete.

"One of your best pieces, Chick, is the one about Khrushchev at the UN pulling off his shoe and banging on the table. And almost as good is your sketch of Bobby Kennedy, when ie was the Senator from New York. He took you along on his Washington rounds, didn't he?"

"Yes. For one whole week..."

"Now that was one of your sketches that held my interest," said Ravelstein. "That his Senate office was like a shrine to his brother--a huge painting of Jack on the wall. And there was something savage about his mourning...." [Emphasis added]

"Vengeful, was what I said."

"Lyndon Johnson was the enemy, wasn't he. They had gotten rid of him by making him vice president-a kind of errand boy. But then he was Jack's successor. And Bobby needed arms to retake the White House. Full of hate. They were very handsome men, both brothers. Bob was half the size of Jack," Ravelstein said, "but an alley fighter. Most amusing of all were those walks from the Senate office building to the Capitol. those were wonderful questions he asked you--like, 'Tell me about Henry Adams,' 'Brief me on H.L. Mencken.' If he was going to be President, he thought he should know about Mencken."

So, in this one workman-like paragraph, chosen at random and seemingly about not very much, through what looks like a slip-of-the-tongue, Bellow has crammed in a combination of "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity," and "Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair."

Ecclesiastes 1

1
The words of the Preacher, the son of David, king in Jerusalem.
2
Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.
3
What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun?
4
One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.
5
The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose.
6
The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits.
7
All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.
8
All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.
9
The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.
10
Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
11
There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after.
12
I the Preacher was king over Israel in Jerusalem.
13
And I gave my heart to seek and search out by wisdom concerning all things that are done under heaven: this sore travail hath God given to the sons of man to be exercised therewith.
14
I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
15
That which is crooked cannot be made straight: and that which is wanting cannot be numbered.
16
I communed with mine own heart, saying, Lo, I am come to great estate, and have gotten more wisdom than all they that have been before me in Jerusalem: yea, my heart had great experience of wisdom and knowledge.
17
And I gave my heart to know wisdom, and to know madness and folly: I perceived that this also is vexation of spirit.
18
For in much wisdom is much grief: and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.

Barry:

Threat? No one read him but intellectuals. He's more an exemplar of what went wrong with them.

Exactly David.

Which makes narcissism especially foolish and useless.

Thank you, David. Just a taste.