Tag Archives: Plexus


I reach for my copy of Plexus by Henry Miller. I’m wondering if I’ve written all I can about Miller. I open the book to find out. There’s always something more in here. Today I read Miller’s version of Goldilocks … Continue reading

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Forgetting is the essence of writing, says Henry Miller. “Inner turmoil” must be present in good writing, and the inner life of the writer a seething chaos. Moments of past and present come to the surface and are gone again. … Continue reading

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A young Henry Miller looks around the home he now shares with his wife Mona. He turns to his library: “Every book on the shelves had been acquired with a struggle, devoured with gusto, and had enriched our lives.” Henry … Continue reading

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