Everyman by Philip Roth
Monday, January 28th, 2008
Everyman by Philip Roth is a short but satisfying chronicle of a life lived unapologetically. The majority of the novel, or perhaps it’s better classified as a novella, revolves around the ‘golden’ years of a man who has dealt with the specter of death through a series of hospitalizations. The beauty of Everyman is the engrossing delivery of such ordinary material. Roth is a gifted storyteller, and using his nameless character, he allows readers to empathize and relate to this “everyman.”
Everyman is about death, lust, love, family, frailty and human nature. These aren’t new themes for Roth or for the world at large. What is different is the pace and structure that Roth builds into Everyman. There isn’t a deeply rich exploration of family or vivid descriptions of modern America. Everyman starts out with the main character’s funeral. So the rest of the story unfolds almost like a Six Feet Under type of eulogy.
To me, it feels like an extended version of the ‘my life flashed before my eyes’ type of scenario. In those harrowing moments before death you relive your life in flashes, a dreamlike meta state that has no time boundaries. So, we do visit the hero in his youth and learn about his father. We see the bonding moments he’s had with his brother, how he met and fell in love with his wife and his affairs and human failings. They’re just vivid snapshots, life’s highlights, that have the most meaning and impact.
Roth creates a great amount of empathy for both the main character and those with which he interacts. It’s a literary feat that he’s able to create a clear portrait with such a brevity of words. Using the everyman device, he’s able to connect with the reader quickly and pinpoint those uncomfortable and messy areas of life that we all encounter. This is Roth at his finest, revealing the intricacies of relationships and the heartfelt turmoil that is part of everyday life.
The main character is not the quintessential everyman, since he’s colored with Roth’s unique perspective. In particular, the introspective ability to analyze and to forgive poor decisions, chalking them up to being human. There are no apologies, only the tacit knowledge that he’s screwed up from time to time, that it wasn’t optimal, but it was what happened and that … is that.
Everyman is also interesting as it pertains to longevity and medicine. Living longer due to medical advances is a double-edged sword in many respects. You get more time to experience the world and people around you, but what happens when some of those people die and parts of the world aren’t available to you anymore? Is longevity for it’s own sake worthwhile? I find these themes increasingly relevant as I (and my peers) get older.
Philip Roth has once again demonstrated why he’s one of America’s best modern writers.

Strong Motion by Jonathan Franzen is a fantastic mix of literary fiction and mystery. Superbly drawn characters, psychological punch and vivid descriptions are mixed with an intriguing mystery that revolves around the cause of a swarm of earthquakes in the Boston area. Strong Motion is the Jonathan Franzen version of
Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami is another solid effort by one of the best modern writers on the planet. Sure, it’s not as absorbing and gripping as The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle or as eerie and complete as Hard Boiled Wonderland and The End of the World. But that’s a massive pedigree to live up to, the former a taut, rich and uncomfortable story similar to David Mitchell’s Ghostwritten, while the latter (one of my favorite books of all time) an amazing mix of surrealism and science fiction.
Heir to the Glimmering World by Cynthia Ozick is absorbing, interesting but somewhat academic and dry at the same time. The story follows Rose Meadows, an orphan who winds up working for and living with the Mitwissers. Set in the 1930s, the Mitwissers flee Germany, find their way to New York and survive solely on the generosity of a bitter and capricious heir to a popular children’s book franchise.
Company by Max Barry was, to be direct, not very good. I had high hopes for Company, coming on the heels of Barry’s very interesting Jennifer Government. Unfortunately, Company has all the snappy dialog and cheeky humor but falls short on nearly every other front. My copy of Company has the image of a glazed donut on the cover, which I find an apt metaphor: sweet sugary exterior with nothing but airy dough on the inside. Oh, and there’s a hole in the middle and it’s not at all nutritious.