Plexus: The Rosy Crucifixion II

Plexus: The Rosy Crucifixion II

Henry Miller

Language: English

Pages: 640

ISBN: 0802151795

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Second volume in the Rosy Crucifixion series. More about Henry and June, also chronicling the author's travels to the deep South, and his work as an encyclopedia salesmen (after he'd left personnel).

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him plainly that he was just a fool. ‘You need a vacation,’ she would say. ‘You ought to have had five children by now.’ Or – ’Why don’t you go to Mexico for a few months, you’re getting stale.’ As for herself, she was getting ready to make a trip to India. The year before she had been to Africa, not big game hunting either, but as an ethnologist. She had penetrated to regions where no white woman had ever set foot. She was fearless but not reckless. She could adapt herself to any circumstances,

Maude. It is not a wholly familiar Maude, though I recognize at once her tiny, bird-like mouth. I wait expectantly for her usual inanities. Instead there issues from her throat a flood of dark music which sends the blood hammering to my temples. It is only at this moment that I realize she is nude, feel the vague, splendid pain of her loins. I bend over to lift her in my arms but recoil immediately in full horror as I perceive a spider slowly crawling over her milky breast. As if possessed, I

Guadeloupe, Madras, Cawnpore and such like. Eerie? I’ll tell you, I thought for a while she had second sight…By the way, couldn’t we have another drink? I haven’t a farthing, as you probably know…. ‘She’s a queer one, all right. And a bloody, obstinate cuss, too. Get in an argument with her and you’re doomed. She knows how to block all the exits. You’re trapped, once you start in with that one. I never realized that women could be so utterly logical. It wouldn’t matter what you were discussing –

cancer. Fortunately, I rarely took much interest in these gallant suitors. (Better not pry too deeply, I always said to myself.) The important thing to bear in mind was – ’perfectly harmless’. One had to have something more than the rent money to set up house. I discovered, of course, that Mona had thought of everything. Three hundred dollars she had extracted from the poor sap. She had demanded five hundred but he had protested that his bank account was almost exhausted. For being so

up? Where? When? On the seventh day God rested from his labours. And He saw that all was good. D’accord. How could it have been otherwise? Why should it be otherwise? According to reason, that fat wingless slug, humanity was slowly, slowly evolving from the primordial slime. A million years hence we would begin faintly to resemble the angels. What rot! Is the mind encysted, then, in the ass-hole of creation? When Roy Hamilton spoke, though he possessed not a shred of learning, he spoke with the

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