Saul Bellow - Henderson the Rain King

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First published in the United States of America by The Viking Press 1959
First published in Great Britain by Weidenfeld & Nicolson 1959
Published in Penguin Books UK 1965
Published in Penguin Books USA 1976
Published in Penguin Modern Classics 2007

Copyright Saul Bellow, 1958, 1959, 1974
Copyright renewed Saul Bellow, 1986, 1987
All rights reserved

Acknowledgement is made to The Hudson Review, in which a portion of the text appeared in a somewhat different form, also to Botteghe Oscure, which published an earlier version of other sources.

ISBN: 978-0-141-91381-0

PENGUIN MODERN CLASSICS

Saul Bellow (19152005) is the only novelist to receive three National book awards, for The Adventures of Augie March, Herzog, and Mr Sammlers Planet. In 1975, he won the Pulitzer Prize for his novel Humboldts Gift. The Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded to him in 1976 for the human understanding and subtle analysis of contemporary culture that are combined in his work. In 1990, Mr Bellow was presented with the National Book Award Foundation Medal for distinguished contribution to American letters. He has also received the National Medal of Arts. His books include Dangling Man (1944), The Victim (1947), The Adventures of Augie March (1953), Seize the Day (1956), Henderson the Rain King (1959), Herzog (1964), Mosbys Memoirs (1969), Mr Sammlers Planet (1970), Humboldts Gift (1975), To Jerusalem and Back (1976), The Deans December (1982), Him With His Foot in His Mouth and Other Stories (1984), More Die of Heartbreak (1987), A Theft (1989), The Bellarosa Connection (1989), Something to Remember Me By (1991), It All Adds Up (1994), The Actual (1997), Ravelstein (2000) and Collected Stories (2001).

To my son, Gregory

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What made me take this trip to Africa? There is no quick explanation. Things got worse and worse and worse and pretty soon they were too complicated.

When I think of my condition at the age of fifty-five when I bought the ticket, all is grief. The facts begin to crowd me and soon I get a pressure in the chest. A disorderly rush beginsmy parents, my wives, my girls, my children, my farm, my animals, my habits, my money, my music lessons, my drunkenness, my prejudices, my brutality, my teeth, my face, my soul! I have to cry, No, no, get back, curse you, let me alone! But how can they let me alone? They belong to me. They are mine. And they pile into me from all sides. It turns into chaos.

However, the world which I thought so mighty an oppressor has removed its wrath from me. But if I am to make sense to you people and explain why I went to Africa I must face up to the facts. I might as well start with the money. I am rich. From my old man I inherited three million dollars after taxes, but I thought myself a bum and had my reasons, the main reason being that I behaved like a bum. But privately when things got very bad I often looked into books to see whether I could find some helpful words, and one day I read, The forgiveness of sins is perpetual and righteousness first is not required. This impressed me so deeply that I went around saying it to myself. But then I forgot which book it was. It was one of thousands left by my father, who had also written a number of them. And I searched through dozens of volumes but all that turned up was money, for my father had used currency for bookmarkswhatever he happened to have in his pocketsfives, tens, or twenties. Some of the discontinued bills of thirty years ago turned up, the big yellowbacks. For old times sake I was glad to see them and locking the library door to keep out the children I spent the afternoon on a ladder shaking out books and the money spun to the floor. But I never found that statement about forgiveness.

Next order of business: I am a graduate of an Ivy League universityI see no reason to embarrass my alma mater by naming her. If I hadnt been a Henderson and my fathers son, they would have thrown me out. At birth I weighed fourteen pounds, and it was a tough delivery. Then I grew up. Six feet four inches tall. Two hundred and thirty pounds. An enormous head, rugged, with hair like Persian lambs fur. Suspicious eyes, usually narrowed. Blustering ways. A great nose. I was one of three children and the only survivor. It took all my fathers charity to forgive me and I dont think he ever made it altogether. When it came time to marry I tried to please him and chose a girl of our own social class. A remarkable person, handsome, tall, elegant, sinewy, with long arms and golden hair, private, fertile, and quiet. None of her family can quarrel with me if I add that she is a schizophrenic, for she certainly is that. I, too, am considered crazy, and with good reasonmoody, rough, tyrannical, and probably mad. To go by the ages of the kids, we were married for about twenty years. There are Edward, Ricey, Alice, and two moreChrist, Ive got plenty of children. God bless the whole bunch of them.

In my own way I worked very hard. Violent suffering is labor and often I was drunk before lunch. Soon after I came back from the war (I was too old for combat duty but nothing could keep me from it; I went down to Washington and pressured people until I was allowed to join the fight), Frances and I were divorced. This happened after V-E Day. Or was it so soon? No, it must have been in 1948. Anyway, shes now in Switzerland and has one of our kids with her. What she wants with a child I cant tell you, but she has one, and thats all right. I wish her well.