This is the story of Eugene Gant, a southerner whose goal eventually becomes going to Harvard. It appears to be somewhat autobiographical as Thomas Wolfe grew up in the South and eventually went to Harvard. How much of Eugene Gant's story is also Thomas Wolfe's story is much less clear. Eugene is the youngest of a very dysfunctional family. His father hates his mother's family and she cannot stand his. The father had been a successful businessman but is erratic in the extreme and very alcoholic. His mother is excessively concerned about expenses wanting every cent to me invested in her passion, real estate. She knows the value of every parcel but is totally blind to the value and the problems of her family members, her spouse and her children. The children act out in rebellion in all directions.

Eugene, being the youngest, is his mother's last chance to get parenting right. He's her darling and can do no wrong, much to the dismay of his older siblings. They got punished for what he now gets away with. He gets support where they got nothing or less than they needed. He turns inward and becomes the scholar they never were. He reads Latin and Greek, reads and writes poetry, thinks about Gods and mythical creatures. They are real to him. They allow him to escape the dysfunction around him. Yet as he grows he sees more and more of what is around him. This is where my problem reading this book began. What was around Eugene was the South of the early twentieth century. As I read many classics I have to remember that was then and this is now and hold off seeing their lives with my eyes. We've moved on. Yet around Eugene is so much that is now repugnant. Wolfe is thoroughly comfortable with the N-word. It and it's variants are used hundreds of times in this book. Most importantly there seems to be no recognition that anything was wrong with this. After a while I found myself shutting down. My empathy for him diminished as he showed no empathy for those around him. Disappointing. I would have loved to see this book in a more positive light.

Back to the story. The mother in her penny-pinching mode has made their home into a boarding house. Many stories surround the less than savory boarders that pass through. Mother seems to totally ignore the fact that many of the boarders are prostitutes. She sees failings in none of then, just her husband and children. Her husband gets progressively ill and is cared for by one of the older girls. The mother always dismisses her husband's illness with there's nothing wrong, or he'll survive, or that's just his way to get attention – never any empathy. This constant theme is heightened when one of Eugene's older brothers gets sick. He was the one who escaped by becoming a sailor and often was never home. As he was dying he refused to even let his mother see him. He wanted no part of her false empathy. His death brought this into stark resolution, even for Eugene.

Eugene escapes by going back to college, becoming a star pupil and preparing to go to Harvard. At the end I was wanted nothing more to do with this dysfunction. It was clear that Wolfe was an impressive writer. The lyricism of his prose reminded me of Thomas Mann, my favorite writer. Wolfe's prose was constantly spinning a situation, wandering almost aimlessly, had many unconnected observations all reminding me of Joyce. Those qualities kept me reading. ( )

Wolfe re-creates his early 20th Century North Carolina childhood from infancy through adolescence in the character of Eugene,, depicting his family members, friends, and neighbors in caricatures without humor, warmth, or affection, in impressionistic, brocaded language in which almost every noun, almost every verb is tangled with modifiers, like burrs on a country dog, and with such an uncontrolled love of similes that frequently he offers the reader a choice of them for a single scene. The book is an inventory of all the places he has seen along with their smells, sounds, and colors; a catalog of all the people he has known, carefully described along with their histories, many of them never mentioned again. It's difficult to read 200,000 words about a person who is too young to have had interesting experiences, too meek and introspective to make observations on human nature, too absorbed in melodramatic fantasies of love and heroism to engage in reality.

I’m actually reading O LOST, but Librarything won’t let me add that.

The writing is verbose. Very good, but in such a long book it gets to be a bit much. I can easily understand now why Max Perkins edited it down so much (which I learned about in the Jude Law movie).

I may not finish this book. Gant’s miracle child is now walking and talking and has forgotten all his glorious discoveries as a babe.

…

I got to page 330 of 660, and finally gave it up for good. It’s just such a slog. Yeah, he writes very admirable sentences, but my God, he just seems to be showing off for very little storytelling payoff. Perhaps Look Homeward Angel is better. Maybe I’ll read that someday ( )

I know this is considered a classic, but I just couldn't finish it. The frequent use of the N word and other derogatory terms was so repellent to me I cringed every time they appeared. The characters were unlikeable, and their stories uninteresting to me. ( )

I tried to read this book, but couldn't make myself read beyond the oonlight.