Driving through Big Sur from San Francisco to LA, I stopped by the Henry Miller Memorial Library and bought The Colossus of Maroussi; it was recommended by the shop-keep as "Miller's favorite work written by himself." Tropic of Cancer was already in my pile of to-read, road-trip-reading material after recommendations for its "dense, sexual force." So I figured: Why not a phase? I need to know more about Miller, and the subversive style which has made him a legend.

Colussus of Maroussi had me running a marathon after sitting still for a decade. A momentum had to be found to enjoy it, a runner's stride into the epic scenery of Greece, seen through the eyes of a confident observer, image by image, inscribed within pages of names, places and various hospitalities. Slowing down, or stopping was not an option; as Miller's heart raced--penning carbon copies of lists of paragraphs describing his days, my mind raced as well, to keep up with recollections of a time where he was obviously treated very well for just being himself.

A great travel memoir for anyone interested in Greece, or a tedious a thicket of language for anyone interested more in the impetus of a good story, Colossus is an undeniable body of love, an Outsider exercise inputting positive images into the imagination; and it's a no-brainer why it's Miller's favorite work, showcasing a cavalcade of experiences, which are long-worth remembering.