Tag Archives: Henderson The Rain King

Realized that this book took me almost a month to read, though it was thoroughly enjoyable and it is clearly lack of time rather than interest that interrupted it so often.  It’s actually become one of my favorites. I’m totally … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Ah, two more of my favorite subjects, after perception and…I forget the other one (nice; this may be the first online case history of Alzheimer’s to follow as it progresses.  Maybe You-Tube should be incorporated, sort of a reality show?). … Continue reading → Continue reading →

As a rule I never read the critical analyses of a novel before I’ve finished it myself, although I have sought help on Faulkner until I got used to him, and always check them out afterwards.  And on a book … Continue reading → Continue reading →

While Henderson grits his teeth and plays with the king’s lioness in order to learn something about himself, we’re not sure if he’s really gotten it yet.  The entire premise of this book is based on character change–one of the … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Certainly there is an object that serves as leitmotif throughout this book, as it becomes nearly an annoyance to read again and again and yet be unable to ferret out it’s symbolism. He said, "Why are you blustering at me … Continue reading → Continue reading →

We’ve gotten a good buildup of conflict with Henderson’s adventures, and I’ve just breezed through some more.  With the beginning fifty or so pages giving us a good feel for Henderson’s past, present, his character and his worries for the … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Bellow does this so smoothly and efficiently that I’m appreciating his writing style more and more.  It is impossible to pick out and lay them all out here, but there are little events, little worries voiced by Henderson in reminding … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Bellow uses very out-of-place similes in this adventure in the remotest parts of Africa: Through my depths as in a tunnel went a shock like the ones big buildings get from trains which pass beneath.  (p. 164) All the noise … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Jeez this is great; what a perfect complement to Augustine’s wondering of soul.  Henderson and his man, Romilayu find that they’ve been set up with a corpse in their small hut.  After the initial shock and anger, they must decide … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Henderson, waiting to meet with the officials of the village, finds that he’s broken his bridge and this brings recall of his dentist, his past, and a meeting with his grown son. But a father is a father after all, … Continue reading → Continue reading →

This novel follows the format: the protagonist wants something badly and it matters what he’ll go through to get it.  While we’re still not completely sure what that something is exactly, we follow Henderson as he guesses that he can … Continue reading → Continue reading →

The confusing thing is that I always have some real basic motivation, and how I go so wrong, I can never understand.  (p. 92) Bellow gives us insight into his protagonist via the first person pov (Henderson), though this is … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Henderson is such a goof–as are we all.  Goofballs down to the core of our souls. "She say," Itelo translated carefully, "world is strange to a child.  You not a child, sir?" "Oh, how wonderful she is," I said.  "True, … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Before I go much further with the reading, there’s something to this novel that for some reason I can’t seem to put into words. The story of Eugene Henderson, a self-proclaimed millionaire of about fifty-plus, is seeking something and while … Continue reading → Continue reading →