Reviews for My Life and Loves

The average rating for My Life and Loves based on 2 reviews is 1.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2016-11-16 00:00:00 Kris Olsen I have just begun reading this, my customary four pages a day, which will make me around seventy by the time I am finished with it, that is if I keep reading. So far, as a young child and adolescent, Frank has made it further with a girl than I ever had the good fortune (or courage) to, and surprisingly came away basically unscathed with his rather audacious attempts to put his hands where they had not been invited. It is interesting for me to read this sort of thing as I do believe heterosexual young boys all share the same sexual fantasies, but some of us are exempt from having them manifested due to back luck, environment, upbringing, religious beliefs, or deference for the female sex. All my life I have maintained a devout respect for women while secretly wishing to be either on the receiving end of a good ravaging, or invited to be the one initiating it. But I am not so much a lover of men however, and my own "bullshit" flag may well wave if I ever have any suspicions Frank is making up his sexual adventures. The start of the book so far has, importantly, not all been sexual adventure but rather the typical abuse and bullying of young boys attending grade school. And as predicted, the bullying is stopped when young Frank, instructed on how to fight properly and given the confidence to at least hold his own in fisticuffs, takes on his nemesis. The result is a pummeling of the awful bully and a new respect and station of honor bestowed upon him by all his fellow schoolmates. Perhaps a precursor to the sexual conquests purportedly to be forthcoming. Any advances young Frank made on the opposite sex are detailed as courageous attempts to learn the wiles of love, or at the least, seduction. Someone this novice would hardly know the difference, but what any advancement made only resulted in further enchantments and delights in everything the natural world has to offer. His food tasted better, scenery burst with a vividness of wonder, and a simple walk alone with one's illicit thoughts proved exciting. It is understandable how a female is first made an object of desire, and how love and sex are separate from each other, and should be. What is lost in sex for love is the immense gratification of animal lust and surrender. The giving of oneself for another's pleasure. In a bit of a surprise for me I have found the beginning of the book ripe with details regarding the male authoritarian experiences inflicted on young Frank, and the methods he employed in making a new life for himself in the USA. Of course his eventual impetus will focus on the women in his life, but for the most part his personal struggles and achievements in the world of work for now take precedence over the sexual adventures that are purported to follow in his rendition. Though dated and representing a time early in the twenty-first century that would prove to advance industry and technology to fantastic and previously unknown degrees, young Frank pushed on, intent on making something exorbitant of himself. Stereotypical of men of small stature, the little man obviously designed his voluminous published model to be more grandiose than normal. But in matters of sex and conquest that is generally what we expect. It is straining to me, however, how much focus instead is detailed in his efforts for good employment and making his way in the world of commerce. But there are a numerous bulk of pages left for Frank to verbosely expound on his scandalous trysts and sexual conquests. As I plow my way through this rather verbose extravaganza I am at times dissuaded to continue on due to Frank's need to prove himself an able lover. The mere fact that he beds women with ease and then gets invited back would be enough proof for most people regarding his talents, leaving no need to add the sordid details over how he either rams or slowly pleasures these women with his developing gift for lovemaking. But the century Harris conveys regarding the history of our country is interesting enough for me to continue suffering through his sexual bragging. Salacious events, intermingled with Harris being humbled as he scratches out a living and a way of life, may in time prove inadequate enough to engage me in any further reading. And just over one hundred and fifty pages into this thousand page slop, I abruptly stop, as Frank simply fails to do me in.

Review # 2 was written on 2010-03-25 00:00:00 Nico Tiedemann He always reminds me of Henry Miller. I expect both of them to be short - it's hard to understand their behaviour otherwise. Checks that, and yes, little men who had to find ways to make themselves look bigger. Sexual conquest it is, then. But whereas Miller hated women and had to make it all literary, Harris was content with a straightforward enthusiastically pornographic approach in the Victorian tradition. I can only assume it was all in their dreams. It's impossible to imagine anybody wanting to shag either of them...