Viking Press, 432 pp., $14.95
I think many critics are frightened of Patrick White. Who can blame them? I quail myself, at the task of conveying why I believe this turgid, crotchety, tortuous, racked, oblique writer is nevertheless great—and a Nobel prize winner. I looked for inspiration at the eulogies on the book jackets. 'Epic' recurs, and 'monumental'; comparisons are made with the Alps, a cathedral, the book of Genesis, even Everest; 'greatness,' 'power,' 'scope' are evoked. The blurb for this latest book goes right over the top with 'irresistible sweep of a symphonic poem,' and more. The most honest reaction comes from the critic who says a Patrick White novel defies review. It defies reading sometimes, too; intelligent people have said to me that they know the books may be important, but they can never get beyond the first few pages.
Review, 2254 words
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