I think I mainly liked this book because it confused me, but hearing him yap about literally anything was also interesting

This is probably the tamest Henry Miller novel you could read. Far from the obscenity of the Tropics or Rosy Crucifixion trilogy, Big Sur finds Miller in a contemplative mood as an acclaimed writer living out a slightly matured bohemian existence in the oceanside paradise of Big Sur. This novel is a stream-of-consciousness collection of thoughts, musings and assorted tales of the characters in Miller's life at the time. The author has grown up at least somewhat and manages to make the case for living wild in a rural community like the pre-Kerouac Big Sur. I think this novel is a great choice for anyone familiar with Miller's styles and themes but I have to confess I found myself checking how many pages were left near the end.

Back in my 30s, I read and reread Henry Miller's Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch. The insights tumble forth as Henry reflects on his rustic life along the California coast and what it means to be human. Of course, for Henry, one key to our very human life revolves around art - and that's art as in things like writing and painting and music.

Here's one quote that popped out:

"Men are not suffering from the lack of good literature, good art, good theater, good music, but from that which has made it impossible for these to become manifest. In short, they are suffering from the silent, shameful conspiracy (the more shameful since it is unacknowledged) which has bound them together as enemies of art and artist. They are suffering from the fact that art is not the primary, moving force in their lives. They are suffering from the act, repeated daily, of keeping up the pretense that they can go their way, lead their lives, without art."

By my eye, nowhere is this vapidness more apparent then when we turn to literature, the novel in particular. What happens when people lacking empathy and personal depth try their hand at the novel? You get howlers, a superficial, tinker-toy world of good guys vs. bad guys; you get novels like Embrace the Serpent by Marilyn Tucker Quayle, End of the Age by Pat Robertson, and Debt of Honor by Tom Clancy.

Making a quick cut to another topic, another reflection: Henry says, "When I paint I feel good. And if it makes me feel so good, then chances are it will make the other fellow feel good too."

One of the tragedies of the modern world is many, many people spend time doing what doesn't make them feel good. When it comes to employment, Marx termed this "alienation from the end of production," in other words, people don't give a fig about what they are doing; rather, they are simply chasing a paycheck.

When it comes to time away from work, we're more in control of our time. So, please, I urge you, and I think Henry Miller would urge you, if you have any inclination toward creativity and the arts - go for it! Paint, play music, write - and if you feel good about doing those things, chances are others will also enjoy what you're doing.

Henry Miller goes on to observe, "We Americans have submitted to some perilous experiments." No doubt, Henry! And the experiments tended to be outward when many lands extending south to Florida and west to California were still uncharted territory. Nowadays, in a mostly same-o, same-o geography with highways, shopping malls and standardized housing, we can still experiment but the WAY we can experiment has changed.

The way I see it, we are better situated to explore inner space rather than outer space, have more access to great books, great learning opportunities (the internet in its many educational phases) and practicing things like meditation, yoga, jogging, the list goes on. My advice: squeeze your own Big Sur oranges in ways that will make you greater, deeper, more expansive each and every day.

These are only a few gems in Henry Miller's 400-pager. Pick up a copy (or listen to the audio book). More magic awaits.