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Famed novelist and playwright Mailer here embarks on a journey into all aspects of God and religion with Lennon, president of the Norman Mailer Society. Written shortly before Mailer's death in 2007 and done in a Q&A format, the narrative focuses on an eclectic variety of subjects that revolve around Mailer's assertion that God is an artist. Mailer believed in the existence of God but argued that he (or she) is like an artist because God is not perfect. He created the dinosaurs and then realized that they were too large to survive, so they had to become extinct. The authors leave no stones unturned, covering reincarnation, the state of world religions, fundamentalism, the Holocaust, poverty, intelligent design, and prayer. Their conversations make reference to numerous disciplines, including literature, art, philosophy, and theology. As with his life and all his writings, Mailer took no prisoners with this work. He was unapologetic in his criticism of all of the major religions for stifling creative thought in both their leaders and their followers. This audiobook is not leisurely material for the car or the beach; it is scholarly and a tough go at times. However, readers Kent Bateman (Mailer) and Malcolm Hillgartner (Lennon) do an admirable job of trying to keep the listener engaged in the often dense and meandering thoughts of this brilliant and controversial writer. Recommended for large academic libraries.
—Emma Duncan
Norman Mailer, bless him, this fall trundled his homemade God onto the field of combat. With his recent passing reverberating through the reading world, there is no better time to charge into these conversations with English professor and veteran Mailerite Michael Lennon, as the late lion lays out his own very personal vision of the divine economy. The destiny of souls, the wages of sin, the potency of saints, the possible immortality of dogs -- it's all here.
How seriously you take it will depend, naturally enough, on your opinion of Norman Mailer: for myself, I prefer to read On God not as a work of amateur theology but as a piece of high-altitude metaphysical clowning in the vein of Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday or Flann O'Brien's The Third Policeman. In one of the book's best moments, Mailer recalls the only time in his life he felt himself directly addressed by the Almighty. What a scene: after a night of undirected drinking and rambling, at the beginnings of his third divorce, the author is sitting flatly over a cup of coffee and a doughnut in a Brooklyn diner when the Lord speaks to him. His words are: "Leave without paying." Somewhat thrown by this, Mailer resists. "I said, 'I can't do it.' And the voice -- it was most amused -- said 'Go ahead and do it,' quietly, firmly, laughing at me." So Mailer, with the fear of God in him, skips out on a 25-cent check. "It seemed to me that I was so locked into petty injunctions on how to behave, that on the one hand I wanted to be a wild man, yet I couldn't even steal a cup of coffee. To this day, I think it was God's amusement to say 'You little prig. Just walk out of there. Don't pay for the coffee. They'll survive, and this'll be good for you.' " (This excellent little story has had the bonus side-effect of irritating Leon Wieseltier, who in a recent issue of The New Republic described it -- with intense humorlessness -- as "perhaps the silliest passage I have ever read in the literature of spiritual autobiography.")
The God of On God shares certain important characteristics with the Judeo-Christian version (namely, singularity and an essential goodness) but beyond these he is all Mailer: a large-hearted creator permanently vulnerable to the diabolic forces of mediocrity and spite. He is not omnipotent -- no indeed. Bad reviews, as it were, of his Creation cause him acute grief and may actually weaken him: he hates above all to be misunderstood. The Universe, according to Mailer, "has become a contest among three protagonists. It isn't that we are passive onlookers while God and the Devil wage a war within us. We are the third force and don't always know which side we are on in any given moment..."
For longtime Mailer watchers, none of this is news: the author tinkered with his one-man religion for half a century, like an auto enthusiast working on his car. In his 1957 essay "The White Negro," a philosophical plunge into the saxophone-maddened swamp of Hip, he proposed a God who was "trapped, mutilated and nonetheless megalomaniacal." By 1959, when he was interviewed by Richard G. Stern and Robert F. Lucid for The Western Review, he had concluded that "God is in danger of dying." It became a matter of sensitizing oneself, via a gamut of confrontations and extremities (orgies, crime, fights -- the Mailerian moral arsenal) to God's fragility; his state, as it were, of cosmic hospitalization. In the invisible triumphs of one's own better or braver nature, and in the little swats of defeat, could the progress or decline of the divine patient be measured.
These preoccupations were all over Mailer's great journalism of the '60s and much of his subsequent fiction. The Castle in the Forest (2006) was sort of his novelistic summa theologica -- an account, written in the voice of a hardworking middle-management demon, of the selection, grooming and miseducation of the young Adolf Hitler by satanic powers. Readers who (like me) were somewhat confounded by the slow-motion pacing and luxuriant, almost stifling, physical atmosphere of that book will find On God a tonic: here is the intellectual synopsis, breezily presented. Michael Lennon writes in his preface that all the talk took place in the third-floor study of Mailer's house, "where from the big window one can see the swerve of shore and bend of bay of Provincetown harbor." The sage holds forth; the sea frets at the sand. "I'm not trying to found a religion," he declares, his eyes upon the dimness of futurity. "I think if these ideas of mine have any value, a great deal of time will go by before there are any adherents." Now wouldn't that be a turn-up for the books -- if in two centuries On God were to become the core text for some raving tribe of schismatics...
It's not unthinkable. This is, in its way, an inspiring little work. I would add that it also contains a surprising amount of what I can only call good advice: "To the degree that we can hear our own voice," reflects Mailer at one point, "we improve our relations with other people. Because if we find our own voice unpleasant at times, then if the other person starts shrieking at us, we don't have to think 'How unstable is the other.' Not if we can recognize that our own voice was ugly enough to incite the response. That's one of the elements in a decent marriage." Heresy and horse sense: perhaps not as odd a combination as one might think. Let's return again to that unpaid 25-cent check, and the clear sense that Mailer had of "God's amusement" as he sloped out of the Brooklyn diner. The speculations contained in On God are to be relished or refuted in the same spirit -- within earshot, at least, of everlasting paternal laughter. --James Parker
James Parker is the author of Turned On: A Biography of Henry Rollins (Cooper Square Press). He is a staff writer for the Boston Phoenix.
broken6string
Posted April 11, 2010
"By now, philosophically speaking, atheism is more incomprehensible to me than the notion that there's a creator." (N.M.)
In an era dichotomously characterized by a drive toward secularism and a reluctance to completely abandon the concept of God, Norman Mailer's last book effectively outlines his life's effort to "work out his own salvation" and to understand his place in the world.
Presented in an interview format with Michael Lennon, this relaxed work offers Mailer's personal insights into the natures of God, the Devil and humankind, and the roles of each in the universal sense.
In fewer than three-hundred pages, the author concisely visits topics as diverse as free will, life after death, and political philosophy. He even speculates that "good" may not ultimately triumph over "evil," and suggests that neither God nor the Devil are all-powerful or all-knowing. Perhaps, Mailer says, God isn't even all good--he may be 80% good, while the Devil is 80% evil.
As human beings, Mailer suggests, we place a burden too great on God with our expectations that he will always help us, or even that he is always able to answer our most pressing needs. God's power is limited according to Mailer and, often, God fails to understand his own creation.
Obviously, just entertaining these notions meets fundamentalist criteria for pure blasphemy-100%. But it gives us something to think about, because it's only blasphemous if we believe in that external, personal God. On the other hand, if we believe God is what we make him, then Mailer's hypothesis seems somewhat ineffectual as an explanation.
Specifically, isn't God supposed to represent the ideal? Shouldn't the concept of God embody and encourage human aspiration? And if the ideal is less than perfect, how can it be ideal? If I'm inventing my own God, I'm not sure I want anything less than ideal. Who would aspire to 80% of anything?
By Mailer's approximation though, God is an artist above all else. As an artist, he expresses himself through his creation, but his creation is never complete and, since he has endowed us with free will, we sometimes surprise him. As God learns about us, then, he learns about himself; and as we learn about God, we learn about ourselves.
"On God"--in an approach bold, but not offensive to the more open minded among us--nudges the reader toward curiosity, reflection and introspection. In the end, Mailer even offers his vision of the perfect society: a synthesis of the social, political, economic and religious ideals he suggests would most greatly benefit the human race.
A surprising exit for a former atheist.
Anonymous
Posted October 25, 2007
This book brings a new light of thought, interesting, outstanding book!
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Overview
A towering figure in American literature, Norman Mailer has in recent years reached a new level of accessibility and power. His last novel, The Castle in the Forest, revealed fascinating ideas about faith and the nature of good and evil. Now Mailer offers his concept of the nature of God. His conversations with his friend and literary executor, Michael Lennon, show this writer at his most direct, provocative, and challenging. “I think,” writes Mailer, “that piety is oppressive. It takes all the air out of thought.”In moving, amusing, probing, and uncommon dialogues conducted over three years but whose topics he has considered for decades, Mailer ...