Henry Miller: My Life and Times cover
Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. there is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.
My 2015 drawing of Henry Miller, mocked-up as a cover for his memoir of sorts, My Life and Times, published by Playboy in the early 1970’s. Miller is another one of those writers for me who, like Burroughs, is great for aphorisms and le mot juste but I just cannot get through to the end of any one of their books. I’ve come to believe that some writers should have never bothered with forcing their ideas into a form as limited as the novel, and Miller is one of them. Anyone who can recommend a Miller novel to make me change my mind, let me know: email@example.com