Book Review: Everyman by Philip Roth

Synopsis: A man dies and we see flashbacks of him growing up, committing adultery, and wasting away as an old man.

My first thought upon picking up this book was how short it was. But after reading it, I realize that its brevity is a good thing. This book has no plot in the traditional sense. Nothing truly original happens to the focal character. He is, as the title suggests, an everyman. So if it were any longer, it would have been insufferable. But as it is, the shortness and lock of real story are a perfect match for the gravity of the subject.

He's not a good man. He's not particularly evil, but he's not the type whose company I would enjoy for more than a few hours. His interpersonal skills (especially with those to whom he should be close--wives, children, etc.) are woeful. He's not a hero. He's not anyone to be envied. He's someone to relate to even in his differences.

I sincerely hope the average person is not like the main character, but by averages and sociology, he probably is representative of his generation.

By what I've said so far, you might think I didn't like this book. That's actually (surprisingly) not true, after a fashion. This book is one of those that makes you think about life itself. It's not a book to enjoy, it's a book to ponder.

The subject is death and the protagonist's interface with it. Roth carefully lays out his character's atheism so questions and fears of death are not easily resolved by an appeal to God. It's an interface between man and the void. As the main character comes to terms with it, the reader is invited to do the same.

I have to admit, the final connection the character makes is false. He sees the honor and value of his bones sharing the earth with the bones of his forebears and in his mind hears the voice of his deceased parents comforting him. Thus, really comes to terms with the sociality of the dead, a pseudo afterlife, rather than the void. But then, I doubt it's possible to relate coming to grips with nothingness in such a way that anyone but you feels the connection.

Despite his failings, I couldn't help relating to the main character (as I believe was the point). He fears death because he loves life and would miss his daughter. As a teenager, I realized how much life sucks and so lost my fear of death completely (maybe someday, I'll put on a Cure CD and elaborate. But then, no one, not even me, wants to read that). But now, I have fear and it comes from my family. I fear not seeing my children grow up. I fear the difficulties my family would have without me. I fear grieving them. But death itself, the actual mechanic, holds no terror for me. So I can relate to the concept of family being the tether to life.

Having been ill this last year, I have recognized my own frailty and mortality. Thus, I found the parts of the book where the main character is old with failing health particularly poignant. The loneliness of old age, the pain of chronic illness, and the decline of both physical and mental ability: now that's terror to me.

It should be noted that a chunk of this book contains fairly graphic sexual scenes. If such offends you, you would probably be well served to skip ahead. Besides the graphic (and frankly gratuitous) sex, my only true criticism would be that there are moments where strong language (f***, usually) is used where another word would suffice. I'm not overly prudish, but such words have within them a punch to the jaw. If the punch is not intended (and in these cases, I don't see why it would have been), a softer word is usually better.