As an autobiographical account of Miller’s life as a writer and intellectual,
Tropic of Cancer alludes, not surprisingly, to a broad range of literary predecessors. Given the iconoclastic nature of Miller’s project, many of Henry’s references to hallowed figures are derogatory (he dismisses Byron, Victor Hugo, and Joseph Conrad in passing in one paragraph). Among the authors who do receive Henry’s approval are the ancient Roman Petronius and the Renaissance Frenchman Rabelais, both authors of bawdy, picaresque prose works (the
Satyricon and
Gargantua and Pantagruel, respectively) that don’t quite have plots—much like
Tropic of Cancer itself. Walt Whitman also earns Henry’s praise, as his uncensored poetic self-revelations resemble what Henry wants to write. Perhaps Henry’s most reverential namecheck goes to Dostoevsky’s novel about nihilistic revolutionaries,
Demons; Henry finds in it a precursor to the radical implosion of societal values he seeks to effect in his own work. The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche explored similar questions of morality with comparable intensity, and though Henry only mentions him in passing a handful of times, he clearly exerts a major influence on Miller’s radically iconoclastic worldview. The intensity of this worldview, as presented in
Tropic of Cancer, deeply impacted Miller’s literary contemporaries. T.S. Eliot somewhat surprisingly praised the book, perhaps finding it an exemplary distillation of the cultural collapse and sexual chaos he explored in his poem
The Waste Land. George Orwell strongly praised the book as well, seeing its uncensored directness as an antidote to the linguistic obfuscation that he associated with authoritarianism in novels like
1984. Miller’s influence on younger American writers was enormous, particularly with the “Beat” movement of the 1950s: Jack Kerouac’s novels and Allen Ginsberg’s poems embraced and employed Miller’s celebration of the seedy side of life, as well as his freeform literary approach.