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3.72 AVERAGE
3.72 AVERAGE
In one of the greatest scenes I’ve read in recent memory, Julian English fantasizes about throwing his drink in the face of Harry Reilly. What has Harry done? Nothing, really. But at this particular dance, Harry Reilly tells story after story, and it’s not just that – Harry has a specific method to his storytelling, mannerisms of which Julian tires. But he dissuades himself, reminding himself that Harry has loaned him quite a bit of money to pull Julian out of a pinch at the Cadillac dealership. Plus, Julian’s afraid people might think it’s because Harry dotes on Julian’s wife, Caroline.
The narrative passes, and then one partygoer tells another that Julian did indeed toss his drink into Harry Reilly’s face, and as the inside of the book says, “in one rash moment born inside a highball glass, Julian breaks with polite society and begins a rapid descent toward self-destruction.”
Just a small indiscretion in the scheme of things, really, but in 1930s suburban Pennsylvania, Julian’s action threatens to topple the carefully placed house of cards that the city of Gibbsville and its elite have created. In a society where single men and women are paired off based on their looks and prospects, and the society page lists who attended whose party, Julian has willfully placed himself outside the rules, and O’Hara depicts Julian’s existential crisis in brilliant moments of stream of consciousness and internal monologue. As Julian remarks at one point, there are other, worse indiscretions – affairs conducted under the nose of one’s wife; domestic abuse; suicide – but those are one offs. Julian English’s breach is not just societal; it’s seen as evidence of English’s hatred of Catholics (Reilly is a Catholic), as evidence of his snobbishness, as his place is higher than that of Reilly’s.
John O’Hara is near brutal in his descriptions of the various characters in Appointment in Samarra – deftly describing a well-respected doctor and a small-time whiskey runner in equally harsh light. Even Julian’s wife, the lovely and admired Caroline, doesn’t escape his ire. Though she loves her husband, she’s much too concerned with the demise of the couple’s social status to concern herself with her husband’s rapid descent. Yet even in O’Hara’s bald depictions of these people, there is sympathy, to the end. For, if any people were more a product of the times, it’s the Gibbsville set. Bound by their conventions but expected to be young and free and daring, the men and women in Appointment in Samarra are, much like the title of the book, destined to burn quick and bright before meeting their fates.
The narrative passes, and then one partygoer tells another that Julian did indeed toss his drink into Harry Reilly’s face, and as the inside of the book says, “in one rash moment born inside a highball glass, Julian breaks with polite society and begins a rapid descent toward self-destruction.”
Just a small indiscretion in the scheme of things, really, but in 1930s suburban Pennsylvania, Julian’s action threatens to topple the carefully placed house of cards that the city of Gibbsville and its elite have created. In a society where single men and women are paired off based on their looks and prospects, and the society page lists who attended whose party, Julian has willfully placed himself outside the rules, and O’Hara depicts Julian’s existential crisis in brilliant moments of stream of consciousness and internal monologue. As Julian remarks at one point, there are other, worse indiscretions – affairs conducted under the nose of one’s wife; domestic abuse; suicide – but those are one offs. Julian English’s breach is not just societal; it’s seen as evidence of English’s hatred of Catholics (Reilly is a Catholic), as evidence of his snobbishness, as his place is higher than that of Reilly’s.
John O’Hara is near brutal in his descriptions of the various characters in Appointment in Samarra – deftly describing a well-respected doctor and a small-time whiskey runner in equally harsh light. Even Julian’s wife, the lovely and admired Caroline, doesn’t escape his ire. Though she loves her husband, she’s much too concerned with the demise of the couple’s social status to concern herself with her husband’s rapid descent. Yet even in O’Hara’s bald depictions of these people, there is sympathy, to the end. For, if any people were more a product of the times, it’s the Gibbsville set. Bound by their conventions but expected to be young and free and daring, the men and women in Appointment in Samarra are, much like the title of the book, destined to burn quick and bright before meeting their fates.
Reminded me of Hemingway, if Hemingway had written about the social circuit in a small town in Pennsylvania in the 1930s. Focused on the characters, their relationships with each other, and their private struggles. I enjoyed it as a sort of historical novel; it seemed to sit right on the brink of modernity, modern enough in the kind of sentences the narrator and other characters use, but noticeably aged in social customs and the way people still had to take a boat to cross an ocean. l liked the dialogue, saying it in my head in the voices of the silver screen.
Even if this wasn’t taking place during the Great Depression, the characters would still have seemed pretty self-absorbed. The sentence writing is good but the plot feels disorganized and most of the characters feel extraneous. The best parts were about the relationship between Julian and Caroline English.
Originally published on my blog here in August 2003.
Set in an American small town during the Depression, Appointment in Samarra is the story of a man who takes to drink and then kills himself after a social faux pas. It was hailed as a great novel by [a:Ernest Hemingway|1455|Ernest Hemingway|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1357893816p2/1455.jpg] no less when it first appeared (though his praise was in part an attack on [a:Sinclair Lewis|7330|Sinclair Lewis|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1205204856p2/7330.jpg], who had described it as obscene). From such a high, O'Hara's reputation could only dwindle, especially as he ended up as an author who outlived his talent. Even so, Appointment in Samarra made it into the Modern Library's list of the hundred greatest English language novels of the twentieth century.
One interesting thing about this novel is the naive style in which it is written. O'Hara is unwilling to introduce a character without telling the reader a great deal about them and their history (something that would-be authors are often warned not to do). In places this is irritating, but O'Hara usually manages to make it fascinating. These little portraits can be quite barbed, as when he says of the local doctor that "some of his patients even lived".
The central character, fairly closely based on parts of O'Hara's own early life, is massively important in this novel. Julian English begins as an insider, a rich young man who spends much of his time meeting other rich young people at exclusive clubs in and around his home town. He gives way to a drunken impulse (throwing his drink in the face of a man he doesn't like very much) and becomes an outsider, unable even really to see why he is no longer accepted. (His crime may seem trivial, but the man he attackes is someone to whom he owes a large sum of money, a particularly strong tie in the Depression, and is a pillar of the town's Catholic community while English is a Protestant, leading others to assume sectarian motives for the attack.) It is one of the strengths of Appointment in Samarra that this slight difference in status is so clearly portrayed.
While this all makes for an interesting read, it hardly amounts to sufficient reason to put Appointment in Samarra in the top hundred novels. What is unusual about it for its date is its sympathetic portrayal of feminine sexuality in the person of Julian's wife. [a:D.H. Lawrence|17623|D.H. Lawrence|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1278173884p2/17623.jpg] is famous for having introduced the woman as an openly sexual being into literature, but the women I know who have talked about this have told me that he doesn't really describe what, say, a female orgasm feels like; his portrayal is more a masculine idea of what it should be like. It seems to me that O'Hara is more believable in what he says, even if this is the aspect of the novel which was attacked as obscene. (I obviously can't be sure, as I have never experienced sex as a woman!)
The title of the novel deserves some comment. There is a story which I thought was in the Arabian Nights (though my dictionary of quotations attributes it to [a:W. Somerset Maugham|4176632|W. Somerset Maugham|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1281475888p2/4176632.jpg]). A man in Baghdad met Death in the marketplace, a sure omen of his death. Although he saw that Death looked surprised, the terrified man leapt on his horse and galloped to Samarra. But there Death took his soul - no one can cheat death. The point of this little story is the reason for Death's surprise - it was because he met the man in Baghdad when he had an appointment with him for the next day in distant Samarra.
Set in an American small town during the Depression, Appointment in Samarra is the story of a man who takes to drink and then kills himself after a social faux pas. It was hailed as a great novel by [a:Ernest Hemingway|1455|Ernest Hemingway|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1357893816p2/1455.jpg] no less when it first appeared (though his praise was in part an attack on [a:Sinclair Lewis|7330|Sinclair Lewis|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1205204856p2/7330.jpg], who had described it as obscene). From such a high, O'Hara's reputation could only dwindle, especially as he ended up as an author who outlived his talent. Even so, Appointment in Samarra made it into the Modern Library's list of the hundred greatest English language novels of the twentieth century.
One interesting thing about this novel is the naive style in which it is written. O'Hara is unwilling to introduce a character without telling the reader a great deal about them and their history (something that would-be authors are often warned not to do). In places this is irritating, but O'Hara usually manages to make it fascinating. These little portraits can be quite barbed, as when he says of the local doctor that "some of his patients even lived".
The central character, fairly closely based on parts of O'Hara's own early life, is massively important in this novel. Julian English begins as an insider, a rich young man who spends much of his time meeting other rich young people at exclusive clubs in and around his home town. He gives way to a drunken impulse (throwing his drink in the face of a man he doesn't like very much) and becomes an outsider, unable even really to see why he is no longer accepted. (His crime may seem trivial, but the man he attackes is someone to whom he owes a large sum of money, a particularly strong tie in the Depression, and is a pillar of the town's Catholic community while English is a Protestant, leading others to assume sectarian motives for the attack.) It is one of the strengths of Appointment in Samarra that this slight difference in status is so clearly portrayed.
While this all makes for an interesting read, it hardly amounts to sufficient reason to put Appointment in Samarra in the top hundred novels. What is unusual about it for its date is its sympathetic portrayal of feminine sexuality in the person of Julian's wife. [a:D.H. Lawrence|17623|D.H. Lawrence|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1278173884p2/17623.jpg] is famous for having introduced the woman as an openly sexual being into literature, but the women I know who have talked about this have told me that he doesn't really describe what, say, a female orgasm feels like; his portrayal is more a masculine idea of what it should be like. It seems to me that O'Hara is more believable in what he says, even if this is the aspect of the novel which was attacked as obscene. (I obviously can't be sure, as I have never experienced sex as a woman!)
The title of the novel deserves some comment. There is a story which I thought was in the Arabian Nights (though my dictionary of quotations attributes it to [a:W. Somerset Maugham|4176632|W. Somerset Maugham|http://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1281475888p2/4176632.jpg]). A man in Baghdad met Death in the marketplace, a sure omen of his death. Although he saw that Death looked surprised, the terrified man leapt on his horse and galloped to Samarra. But there Death took his soul - no one can cheat death. The point of this little story is the reason for Death's surprise - it was because he met the man in Baghdad when he had an appointment with him for the next day in distant Samarra.
A glimpse into the truth behind the Roaring 20s. My review: http://mwgerard.com/review-appointment-in-samarra-by-john-ohara/
I read someplace that fans of F. Scott Fitzgerald should read this novel, which O'Hara titled after the short-short story. I cannot get a link to work but you can google Appointment in Samarra and Maugham. One of the blurbs described this book as "The real Great Gatsby," and I can see the parallels.
It is Christmas 1930 and the Great Depression is kicking into high gear. Julian English throws a drink into the face of another man at his club, and the fallout from this faux pas reveals the cracks in English's marriage and his perilous perch at the top of Gibbsville's social order.
The story is depressing, but O'Hara's ability to build characters through tiny incidents makes this novel a worthwhile read. While the sexual references in the book are tame by 21st century standards, they were somewhat revolutionary in the 1930s.
Recommended if you like a good character study and can handle some unpleasant references to Jews and Catholics.
It is Christmas 1930 and the Great Depression is kicking into high gear. Julian English throws a drink into the face of another man at his club, and the fallout from this faux pas reveals the cracks in English's marriage and his perilous perch at the top of Gibbsville's social order.
The story is depressing, but O'Hara's ability to build characters through tiny incidents makes this novel a worthwhile read. While the sexual references in the book are tame by 21st century standards, they were somewhat revolutionary in the 1930s.
Recommended if you like a good character study and can handle some unpleasant references to Jews and Catholics.
Nice dialogues between citizens of coal mining town Gibbsville, PA. Many about cars; one of the main characters Julian English wons a Cadillac dealership.
I read this book because Karel van het Reve recommended it in his collection Achteraf.
I read this book because Karel van het Reve recommended it in his collection Achteraf.
There is one brilliant passage on grief near the end of this novel (the thumping "had to go through, had to go through, had to go through" paragraph).
Apart from that, I found the book almost unbearable. I never really wanted to live in the self-destructive brains of the suburban country-club fellas.
Apart from that, I found the book almost unbearable. I never really wanted to live in the self-destructive brains of the suburban country-club fellas.
John O'Hara is an author that I have never read. At least, none of his novels. I remember regularly reshelving his fiction when I was a page in the late 60's, but I wasn't the slightest bit interested in what he had to say.
A volume of three of his novels crossed my path, so I decided it would accompany me to the beach. This is the first in the volume. I am both intrigued and baffled.
The storyline was quite interesting. The setting - early part of the Depression in middle America - might as well be a foreign country to me which means I got to learn a new "place". The characters were well drawn, but somewhat stereotypical, although the stereotype might be based on O'Hara's writings. I think he is known for his stories about Gibbsville which is where this book takes place.
I am a bit baffled because I am not sure why the book went the direction it went. I did not anticipate the ending at all. Looking back on the story, I am now not sure where I thought we were going, but this was not it.
Apparently, I am not the only reader that ever had trouble with O'Hara. This book was put on the Modern Library list of the top 100 American books and many people did not think this was a good choice. When O'Hara was published, some people were offended by the sexual content, which in this day and age is very tame.
A volume of three of his novels crossed my path, so I decided it would accompany me to the beach. This is the first in the volume. I am both intrigued and baffled.
The storyline was quite interesting. The setting - early part of the Depression in middle America - might as well be a foreign country to me which means I got to learn a new "place". The characters were well drawn, but somewhat stereotypical, although the stereotype might be based on O'Hara's writings. I think he is known for his stories about Gibbsville which is where this book takes place.
I am a bit baffled because I am not sure why the book went the direction it went. I did not anticipate the ending at all. Looking back on the story, I am now not sure where I thought we were going, but this was not it.
Apparently, I am not the only reader that ever had trouble with O'Hara. This book was put on the Modern Library list of the top 100 American books and many people did not think this was a good choice. When O'Hara was published, some people were offended by the sexual content, which in this day and age is very tame.
Julian English has everything a man could want in 1934 America---affluent background, beautiful wife, lovely home, rich friends, successful business---and yet, somehow, almost inexplicably, comes to destroy everything he has in the short space of 72 hours. It's the American dream turned nightmare, and it's horrific to watch, even from the pages of a book. A life overturned---and why? And for what? It's not clear and no one---not his friends, not his wife, not his parents, not even Julian himself---seem to understand what is going on. But it is very clear that this is no isolated incident, that this story is very real, that this story could happen to anyone.