Walker Percy. The Moviegoer. 1960; New York: Random, 1989. Print.

When I was in high school, I read a book by Saul Bellow. He had won a Pulitzer or two and was critically acclaimed. I thought I would check this famous writer out. It had to be one of the most boring books I ever read. I have never read another thing by Bellow except maybe short stories in anthologies, though I do not recall. I thought to myself, how could anyone be interested in this boring person’s life?

Now, long after graduating from high school, I think I understand a bit. Bellow, Updike, maybe Roth, and others are writing about adults for adults.

A kid whose parents are still married and faithful, for example, may not be able to relate to a man or woman tempted by adultery. They also seem very self-absorbed. Who cares?

The Moviegoer by Walker Percy is like that in some ways. It is about John aka Jack aka Binx Bolling, a Louisianan who drifts along. He is in a line of work that he finds interesting, but he has no real purpose in life. In one or two paragraphs we find out that he was left for dead in the Korean War, and that may have unsettled him—literally and psychologically.

Like Tom Wingfield in The Glass Menagerie, he finds meaning in movies. Little things he sees remind him of different films or actors—and the films are always more interesting than his routine life. He is single, about to turn thirty. He flirts with his secretaries. If he seduced any of them, the novel does not tell us specifically that he did. His aunt, the family matriarch, wants him to marry a certain cousin who would have the proper social cachet. John and his cousin Kate have always been friends, but is this the same as being in love?

Most of the story, then, is about John drifting, especially during the week preceding Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday. He wanders. He flirts. He goes on a swim date with his secretary and flirts with her roommate. He sees his aunt. He has a close relationship with his fifteen-year-old brother who is dying of an inherited disease. (His widowed mother remarried). He goes to a few movies and talks about other films.

It is a nice little tour of New Orleans neighborhoods and some of the nearby coastal bayous. Nothing much seems to be happening, except that by the end, for reasons not explained in this review (no spoilers!), Binx has matured.

Yes, it is his thirtieth birthday, when we expect even immature men to act like grown-ups. But it is also Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday. Mardi Gras is Fat Tuesday, also known as Carnival, which means “goodbye to the flesh.” Carnival season is a time to indulge before the serious fasting and repentance of Lent. Binx is doing that. But it is a time to say goodbye to the flesh and start growing up…and growing up in God.

He is standing on the sidewalk on Ash Wednesday outside a Catholic church. He is surprised to see so many people going to church on a weekday until he remembers what day it is. The one person he notices leaving the church is a black man. Because of his dark skin and hat, Binx can’t even tell if the man has ashes on his forehead.

That is symbolic, too. It is not the outward sign, but the inward change that is important. We might not be able to see the change right away, but if it is real, he will become mature. Even Moses admonished the Israelites that it was the circumcision of the heart that mattered. (See Deuteronomy 10:16 or 30:6)

In festal New Orleans, the parades, the parties, and the social clubs are a big deal, yes. But they are meant to lead us to the ashes. We must remember that we are dust. (See Psalm 103:14, cf. Job 42:6) We must start looking for the things that last. Maybe, even likely, the healing will follow and the sense of abandonment will disappear. “I will never leave you or forsake you.” (Joshua 1:5; Hebrews 13:5)

Having gained some understanding from this story of a rootless upper middle class American, will I try Bellow or Updike now after all these years? I doubt it. In high school I was too young. Now, I suspect, I am too old.