Indignation

I've read many of Philip Roth's books, but I've never read one of his books as fast as Indignation, his latest novel. I read it in its entirety on a round-trip train ride from Princeton to New York. It's brief, yes, but it was also difficult to put down, as Roth details the downward spiral of his lead character in punchy fashion.

The character is Marcus Messner, a young man from Newark, New Jersey (Roth's home town and the backdrop of most of his books). It is 1951, and he is a college student. In order to get away from his increasingly over-protective father, a kosher butcher, he has transferred from a small college in Newark to the bucolic Winesburg College in rural Ohio. Marcus is determined to devote all of his discretionary time to his studies, and shuns fraternity life. He has a run in with a couple of roommates and changes rooms. Then he goes out with a pretty but troubled co-ed and he receives a surprising blowjob. All of this leads to catastrophe.

In a challenge to book reviewers everywhere, Roth introduces a surprise bit of information on page 54 of a 223-page novel, so it becomes an ethical challenge whether it's a spoiler or not to reveal it. I'll leave it unmentioned, even though I knew it was coming, as the New York Times book reviewer didn't consider it a spoiler. Suffice it to say that Marcus' story is a steady downward slope of despair, as it seems that every decision he makes is the wrong one. Viewed from a certain angle, it's like a joke, a shaggy-dog story like the Be-Bop-a-Rebop Rhubarb Pie commercials that Garrison Keillor does on The Prairie Home Companion. Just when things get about as bad as they can for Marcus, they get worse.

Much of this is familiar Roth territory, starting with the young Jewish man from Newark. It harkens back to themes in Portnoy's Complaint, such as the dating of a Midwestern shikse (Portnoy dated a girl like this he called the "Pumpkin.") Also from that book is the story of the young Jewish man who hung himself but was such a good son that he left a note pinned to his chest letting his mother know she had a phone message. Marcus is sort of like this good son, a boy scout on the outside, a simmering cauldron of rage on the inside.

That Roth chose the name Winesburg for his Midwestern college couldn't be accidental--of course it's lifted from the famous book Winesburg, Ohio by Sherwood Anderson, about a seemingly perfect town that has all sort of diseases of the soul. Marcus chooses the school on the basis of a catalogue photo picturing two idealized students in their perfect collegiate outfits. When he gets there, though, he can't get along with anyone. It all comes to a head in a brilliantly imagined scene between Marcus and the Dean of Men, in which Marcus explodes, declaring his atheism and his devotion to Nobel-laureate Bertrand Russell.

Of course, there's some troubling aspects of the book. Those who find Roth misogynistic won't be pleased with the characterization of Olivia, the girl Marcus dates and offers a hummer. She's mentally ill and promiscuous, but he lusts after her anyway. Aside from Marcus' mother, she's the only female character in the book, and while she is attractive to those of us who have a savior complex, it's all a bit much.

Whether the theme of this novel will appeal to all (it certainly did to me) there is no denying the skill of Roth's wordsmithing. The sentences are polished gems, and the story wraps around on itself. For instance, the title refers, in addition to Marcus' increasing agitation, to lyrics of the Chinese National Anthem, as adopted by the Communists. In a nice bit of irony, Marcus' story ends facing these very same Chinese in the Korean War.