![]() ![]() You don't really want to do it, it's so painful. he has not published a single novel.īrodkey says his life's work, a massive Bildungsroman-in-progress titled "A Party of Animals," is "more than 90 percent done," but he will not release it quite yet into the public teeth - partly because the texture and breadth of his manuscript continues to evolve, partly because of the most affecting and naked sort of anxiety: "It's like giving away a daughter in marriage. Some have even called him the greatest novelist alive.Īnd yet. Even here on the literary slopes of the Upper West Side, who has heard of Harold Brodkey? When he shops for lox at Barney Greengrass (the Sturgeon King), or when he takes a stroll past the unconscionable consumption on Columbus Avenue, does anyone recognize him - this tall, bearded man who may be America's Marcel Proust?įor years, a small clutch of writers and critics not ordinarily given to breathless adoration has compared Brodkey to Freud, Wordsworth and Whitman.
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