The Colossus of Maroussi by Henry Miller

I so wanted to enjoy this book.  And I did enjoy great portions of it.

But in so many sections Miller takes it upon himself to philosophize unendingly.  He takes what otherwise is a perfectly lovely, personal exploration of Greece, and packs it full of pompous meandering.

Why do so many novelists, when writing non-fiction, think the world cares about their off-topic beliefs and opinions?  And why do they take dozens of pages at a time to relate them?

On balance I enjoyed the book, much in the spirit of Lawrence Durrell, who interestingly is a companion of Miller's who appears often in Colossus, but only by skipping over many dozens of pages of drivel.

Regardless, I'm happy to have read of his experiences in Greece.  The pre-war context, taking place just months before Greece was engulfed in WWII, adds a bittersweet element to his story.

A couple of quotes that grabbed my attention:

"Marvelous things happen to one in Greece—marvelous good things which can happen to one nowhere else on earth. Somehow, almost as if He were nodding, Greece still remains under the protection of the Creator. Men may go about their puny, ineffectual bedevilment, even in Greece, but God’s magic is still at work and, no matter what the race of man may do or try to do, Greece is still a sacred precinct—and my belief is it will remain so until the end of time."

"I never knew that the earth contains so much; I had walked blindfolded, with faltering, hesitant steps; I was proud and arrogant, content to live the false, restricted life of the city man. The light of Greece opened my eyes, penetrated my pores, expanded my whole being."