“The Book of My Life is a Book of Voices”: Philip Roth and the Bloodlines of his Fiction

The brio, the punch, the vigour and the rich, rude tang of Philip Roth’s writing have, of course, been well documented. In the innumerable news features after his death, critics, scholars and friends reflected on the frenetic pace of his writing, as well as the humour, the vitriol and the anger which informed his work. And surely not even the most sceptical reader can deny that Roth’s prose throbs with a uniquely caustic and savage energy, which, as his friend David Hare has observed, was directed towards skewering hypocrisy wherever he saw it. For me, though, the appeal of Roth’s writing lies not just in its vigour and energy, but in its depth, its sophistication, its moral and historical profundity.