Scholars dive deep into the world of Henry Miller and discover the philosopher behind the so-called ‘king of smut.’

Agata Popęda here. While you open today’s newsletter, I’m at the “Henry Miller in the 21st Century” symposium in Pacific Grove, a gathering of Henry Miller scholars from around the world. While the conference was designed for experts and hardcore fans of Miller’s work, there are things regular readers can do—if you like Henry Miller.

Firstly, you can jump out of the bed right now and run or drive to the Asilomar Conference Grounds in Pacific Grove where a pop-up exhibit of Miller’s watercolors and artifacts, titled The Art of Play, is on display. Some of the pieces are for sale. You can see it through today, Oct. 19 between 10am and 4pm in the Kiln Meeting Hall. (The Asilomar Conference Grounds are located at 800 Asilomar Ave. in Pacific Grove.)

Secondly, even if you lack funds for a big art purchase, you can simply relax and read my cover story in this week’s edition of the Weekly about Miller, the symposium and the play based on his work that is being locally shown. 

It was a great pleasure and privilege to get deep into the world of Henry Miller, a first-class 20th-century writer, who nonetheless belongs to the Central Coast and its community. After all, Miller spent 18 years living in Big Sur. The Henry Miller Memorial Library in Big Sur, which co-organized the symposium, remains an important cultural center in Monterey County, as well as a mecca for writers and artists who continue visiting Big Sur to pay homage to Miller, the writer who scandalized society in the 1930s and was welcomed into the American literary world only in the 1960s, when his main works, starting with Tropic of Cancer, were finally published in the U.S.

While writing this story, I had a chance to not only go back to Miller’s books, but also interview his daughter, Valentine Miller, as well as the ambitious crew who decided to put Miller's short story, The Smile at the Foot of the Ladder, on stage.

If you are new to Henry Miller, or were discouraged by his description of sex and women—like me when trying to read Tropic of Cancer in my late 20s—perhaps this is the time to give Miller another chance and acknowledge the philosopher hidden behind the mask of the “king of smut,” as he feared he would be called. Better yet, take a trip to the Henry Miller Library in Big Sur—a necessary step for locals to fall in love with everything Miller.

Happy reading.