The domain that Philip Roth shows when writing a novel is, at least, almost insulting to all those fans that becomes part of the circle of his followers. Offensive because most of us are aware, when we read a novel by this author, that will never get a level not even remotely similar. All I said before, it is worth to define the feeling that overwhelms the reader, with the airs of a future writer, when you close the book after reading the last word. Narrated in third person, omniscient narrator, begins with the burial of the protagonist, making therefore the whole novel in a giant flashback. It becomes overwhelming how without fanfare, with a silent art, only counting the daily life of a man of seventy-odd years, the author introduces us to the inevitable proximity of death, as natural as life itself, which becomes logical order of ignorance still walking at his side constantly. The clarity of ideas when I imagine the novel structure that can only be the product of a meticulous and insistent, as it is insuperable perfection appreciated, in my humble opinion.
As always happens with the characters of Philip Roth, they are solid, without any crack, real personalities, with believable dialogue and feelings. The language and style, reflecting the correct translation of Ramon Buenaventura (who I trust fully) is accurate, concise, effective and without fanfare or dramatic turns, without excess or abuse of metaphors in the descriptions. All this makes this novel into a narrative elegantly Anglo-Saxon. Finally note that the original title is "Everyman." I hope that literature does not impose the disastrous rule of the Spanish distributors of film, consisting of translated titles as God gives them to understand, trying to perform miracles (vacuum) to make them commercial. Reading strongly recommended. It's Philip Roth. Safe Creative # 0912035058096.