Based on Soldier of the Great War, Memoir From Ant-Proof Case, and half of Winter's Tale, I find Helprin to combine, in various proportions, the following: fabulous literary style and an almost unbelievable mastery of the English language; an acute emotional sensitivity and intense romanticism; a penchant for inserting ridiculous, clownish characters into his plots just for the hell of it; and a sweeping, epic view of life. In Soldier of the Great War, these are combined in precisely the right proportions, and create a true masterpiece -- one of the very finest novels of our time. It's long, but you wish it would never end. In Memoir From Ant-Proof Case, Helprin goes heavy on the slapstick; if you enjoy the shtick, you'll like the book, and if not, you'll find it slight. In Winter's Tale, Helprin's romanticism gets the better of him, and unless you are heavily into dreamy fantasy you won't be able to justify the book's girth. After a couple of hundred pages that became ever more treacly, I gave up in disgust. Winter's Tale begins with a mystical aura that causes the reader to assume that the novel is intended to be essentially realistic, but with a touch of charming whimsy. Helprin slowly discards any pretense of realism until we are left with an exaggerated, eye-rollingly tedious parody of a fairy tale. The characters lose any relation to humanity and become caricatures, and the plot becomes self-consciously fantastic and predictable at the same time. Helprin, seemingly in love with sound of his own voice, parades one lovely and precious image after another before our eyes, like magical candy, but this does not make a novel so much as a linguistic exercise. I'd hate to think that Helprin, whose literary gifts are so enormous, had but one great book in him. But I'm begining to think so.
