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I discovered Philip Roth last summer, when I picked up a used copy of "The Human Stain" and proceeded to have my mind completely blown by both the story and Roth's incredible writing. I wasn't sure what to expect when I decided to dive into "American Pastoral": when you fall in love with a book and pursue the author's other works, you always run the risk of being severely disapointed - and people seem to either love or hate this book with a suprising passion�

I'm happy to report that I was not disapointed in the least: a quarter of the way in and I already felt like I had been kicked in the teeth (in the best possible way) by the story of Seymour "The Swede" Levov. Roth's ability to create vivid characters and put their thoughts and feelings on the page never ceases to impress me: I really feel like I am in their heads, and when said characters have a story as devastating as that of the Levov family, it is an incredible reading experience. I put the book down dizzy, my head reeling with images and ideas, and I love when that happens.

Roth explores the idea that people are never what they appear to be on the surface: with great compassion, he digs at an All-American family man, his former beauty queen wife and their stuttering daughter, turning them inside out to show us that nothing is as it seems, that the American Dream might have been an optical illusion all along, that perfection is an unbearable burden that can't be kept up indefinitely.

The literal explosion of the Swede's ideals, when his out-of-control daughter commits a horrific act of violence, and his disillusionment are detailed with heartbreaking precision. What do you do when everything you have ever hold sacred and believed to be good and true disintergrates around you, no matter what you do? How do you pick up the pieces and go on, how do you make sense of the surreal failure that your dream world has so unexpectedly turned into? Roth explores the power of choices, how we can trace back so many things to that one fork in the road where were decided to turn right instead of left, the moment in time from which a huge series of events cascaded.

The Swede's compulsion to always be what other people want him to be and to live a life he feels to be the highest ideal of American lives can seem naive, but it also comes from a truly earnest place: there is not an ounce of malicious intent in this upright man, and he cannot understand it in others. His incapacity to conceive that the rest of the world doesn't mean as well as he does is his Achilles' heel, and his daughter - who is nuts, but more lucid than him - uses it to make him aware of his blindness.

I found myself wondering how I would have reacted, had I been Merry's age, sitting in front of the television and watching a monk set himself on fire because nothing else he could do would carry the weight of his protest against the powerlessness imposed on his people. It is only too realistic to suppose that a sensitive and intelligent child can look at this horrific image of a gentle monk burning himself to death and be forever changed by that event. I abhor violence, and I don't think I would have been pushed into the kind of radical revolutionary tactics that attracted Merry, but I know the home-life disatisfaction, and I know how the anger and frustration that comes from that can burn inside someone until they don't know how to react except by lashing out. Obviously, Merry's reaction to her father's denial and passivity is compeltely disproportionate, but it is not impossible to imagine.

I can see how Roth's writing is not for everyone: he is long-winded, and just as I had experienced with "The Human Stain", his rhythm took a few pages to get used to. But once my brain got in the right gear, I breezed through the pages maniacally. When the narrative becomes the rambling stream-of-consciousness of the character he is exploring, it can be hard to follow, especially if you were never perticularly interested in the glove manufacturing business or Miss America pageants. Believe me, those are things that are as far from my reality as one can imagine, but I was completely enthralled despite my not giving a hoot about high school football culture. I think the only thing I can hold against this book was that it ended too soon for me: I wanted to know more about how the Swede decided to rebuild himself, which we know he did, but Roth skips over that part of the story entirely. But overall, it is a moving and hard-hitting read that I enthusiastically recommend to everyone.

That being said, I can't really recommend the movie, which tries very hard to incorporate every important aspect of the story, but fails to convey the emotional weight of Roth's writing. I'm beginning to think his work might be un-adaptable for the silver screen, as I was just as disapointed with the movie version of "The Human Stain"�