Eugene Henderson

Today in class, we briefly talked about the character of Henderson and how everyone in the class essentially hated his guts. I agree that I would probably dislike him if I met him and we had a conversation, but from a literary viewpoint, I thought he was just perfect because he was all too human. He was the painfully flawed, angry, "Ugly American" that we all loved to hate. Like Sexson said, is there anything interesting about reading about a pleasant person who leads a wonderful life? Not really. Because often times I've noticed that I see a bit of myself in those most-hated characters. I don't have the same rage issues and I'm not an alcoholic, but I did find myself empathizing with this horrible man at points.

For example, it really struck a chord with me when he was talking about learning to plan his father's violin (no pun intended). I feel like anyone who has ever lost a loved one holds very closely one or two of their possessions because it provides a connection to that person even if it's just within our own psyche. It's why I still wear a necklace my grandmother owned before she died.

For it so happened that I have never been able to convince myself the dead are utterly dead. I admire the rational people and envy their clear heads, but what's the use of kidding? pg. 30

Whether we like it or not, in some way or another, each and every individual is Eugene Henderson. And I think Saul Bellow intended it to be that way.