J. Blue is a young man who decides to take Christianity seriously, not as a chore but as a challenge. He spends his inherited wealth almost as soon as he gets it. He lives in a packing box on a New York City rooftop. He embraces the poor as his best friends and wisest companions, distrusts the promises of technology (except for the movies), and is fascinated by anything involving the wide expanse of God’s universe. He is the ultimate free spirit, it seems; but what is the source—and purpose—of his freedom? This novel about a contemporary St. Francis figure has delighted and inspired countless readers since it was first published in 1928.
Written in the 1920's, published at the same time as Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, Mr. Blue was the anti-thesis of Jay Gatsby, the self-made millionaire. Blue was a radical Christian, a modern-day St. Francis of Assisi, who decided to live the Gospel message come what may. His story's devotedly told by his staunch friend, the book's narrator, who I found to be as sympathetic a character in his way as Blue was in his. We don't learn very much about either of the book's only real personalities, but somehow it doesn't seem to matter. Belief is what matters. Belief and how we act on those beliefs.
Blue believed money is to be spent or given away immediately and nothing held back; think of the widow's mite. (Mark 12:41–44, Luke 21:1–4) Blue's attitude toward finances and social responsibility would recognize a kindred spirit in St. Basil the Great when he wrote: "The bread you do not use is the bread of the hungry. The garment hanging in your wardrobe is the garment of the person who is naked. The shoes you do not wear are the shoes of the one who is barefoot. The money you keep locked away is the money of the poor. The acts of charity you do not perform are the injustices you commit."
As it was, the narrator admired his friend but didn't quite understand him. Throughout the book, he kept urging J. Blue (blue-jay? as in the bird?) to take care of himself, look ahead, save, and plan for contingencies ... all sound enough advice ... for anyone else.
A most memorable read.
November 22, 2020: It has been 10 years since my last read of this book, but I have never forgotten it, nor has the memory of this remarkable character dimmed. A few details needed refreshing, but for someone who reads as much as I do, I reread few books and have STRONG memories of only a few. This is one of those. I love you Mr. Blue! Don't ever change!
As a Catholic I’m supposed to like this book, but I didn’t much. There are a few good passages, mostly toward the beginning. But it reads too much like a notebook Connolly might have kept for a novel he wanted to write but never really got around to.
Connolly indulges in some cheap moves. He does a lot of telling us, adjectivally, what kind of person Blue is, but not a lot of showing. He introduces passages from Blue’s letters as “beautiful” or deep; but they generally don’t live up to the praise, and since this is a work of fiction, Connolly is really only complimenting himself. It’s embarrassing.
On top of this, most of Blue’s philosophical pronouncements are blandly adolescent. They’re also contradictory – but not in a way that suggests complexity or nuance in the character; rather, in a way that suggests an inability in the author. The narrator is problematic in a similar way.
I know, Mr Blue (written in 1928) is supposed to be a Catholic response to The Great Gatsby. I share Connolly’s frustration with that overrated book. But Connolly isn’t really up to the task he’s set himself here. He should have stuck with Hollywood (Connolly was an uncredited contributing writer for Mr Smith Goes to Washington and Harvey.)
For a far better (and in fact non-fictional) account of a Blue-esque character, I recommend Joseph Mitchell’s “Maisie,” collected in that exemplary volume of gritty New York character sketches from the '30s and '40s, McSorley’s Wonderful Saloon.
Christmas Eve, I ask my sister, “What’s a book you would recommend to everyone?” “Hmm not sure. Oh, there’s one called Mr. Blue. It’s about a modern-day St. Francis, written as a response to the Great Gatsby. My professor wrote an introduction to it.” “Wow, that sounds great! I wish I could read it over break.” “I know, but it’s basically out of print.” “Well, shoot.” Christmas Day, I open her gift to me. “Oh my gosh, it’s MR. BLUE! How did you - -? ...Well played, sis. Well played.”
It’s a great book. The seeming impossibility of Blue himself is made possible by the down-to-earth cynicism of his friend, the narrator and unlikely biographer. One of those books you finish quickly, but it’s not finished with you.
Written by screenwriter Myles Connolly, this gem of a story tells the fictional account of a twentieth-century Francis of Assisi—a man who embodied the radical joy and demands of the Gospel in his own day. Published just three years after The Great Gatsby, the introduction describes J. Blue as the anti-Gatsby, “the man Jay Gatsby might have become had he served a higher truth than the sound of money in Daisy Buchanan’s voice.”
In many ways this reminds me of a Frank Capra movie . Blue is the best kind of misfit, a man characterized by selfless generosity and oblivious to his own magnanimous persona. He wanders around New York befriending all people—regardless of economic status, ethnicity, or religion—because he sees them for their true worth: as created and loved by God. For example, he does not just help the poor. He believes that they are ennobled and enriched, that they have irreplaceable gifts to offer. In true Franciscan style, he even chooses to become one with them by denouncing material possessions. Although not everyone is called to this drastic state of poverty, everyone is called to live Blue’s philosophies in their own lives. This short book is a refreshing reminder of what it means to truly be a Christian.
This review falls short of accurately conveying the true nature and charm of Mr. Blue. Anything I write here, I think the book says better. Far from being a sappy story, the tone is rescued by the narration of Blue’s often skeptical friend (whom I wish we knew a bit more about). Furthermore, Blue is still a human, even if he's a saint, and the book doesn't shy away from revealing his struggles and conflicts.
This story is a refreshing antidote to radical individualism, a beautiful portrait of the simple authenticity of faith stripped bare to its foundation. It’s a short read—just over a hundred pages—that I highly recommend checking out. Beyond the story itself, I enjoyed learning more about Myles Connolly; the Loyola Classics edition includes some great biographical information.
Controversial Pres. of NYU swears every one of his students and colleagues must read this. ONly one of his many categorical pronouncements. Tried to read it........MEH! Not interesting enough to hold interest and too self-consciously pretentious to struggle with. Favorable comparisons with The Great Gatsby merely delusions of ransom reviewers. Gatsby has basis to sue.
I was a little unsure if I liked the writing style. You weren’t able to enter into the stories as well as some other authors but I then realized the writing was so simple and to the point because the Gospel is simple. Love fiercely, impact souls, all glory to God.
Read this awhile back at the recommendation from my late former pastor and vocations director. This short novel offered me a good witness, even if mere fiction.
No matter how you dress up superstitious nonsense as a motivator for doing good towards others the beliefs are still drivel even when enacted in a guise of a charitable individual and perversely that individual wanted to befriend others mostly to convince them that bread magically turns into body and wine into blood when hocus pocus is involved. Friendships based on magical thinking end when the magic is revealed as sophistry.
The author means well, but the blinders myth-believers wear makes their fantasies seem real and reasonable to the degree they can make statements such as: "No one,” he said to me once [Mr. Blue], “is more generous and more loyal than a loyal and generous Jew.” It reminds me when Christians talk about the “Good Samaritan,” as if that wasn’t as demeaning as when a MAGA says ‘be like the Good Mexican,’ implying that all other Mexicans are rapists or thieves. Terms such as ‘good Jew,” or ‘good Samaritan,’ or ‘good Mexican’ act as if they are compliments but are the necessary first step in making the self-appointed privileged class superior in feelings to others such that they can compare a Samaritan woman to a dog and say ‘even the family dog deserves scraps from the table,’ reformatting an insult into when a favor is granted.
There’s an inverted world described in this book and the dystopian end-of-world envisioned sounds as if it would be a Christian nationalistic dream state, and is what is slowly being unfolded during Trumps second term. The author pretends that the world was anti-religious but the real nightmare is its inverse and Mr. Blue wants that as his preferred reality.
I do enjoy Christian whining books from the 1920s and the tone-deafness of the reality of a world that is dominated by Christians and there is a surprisingly amount of exclusiveness while trying to be diverse.
"His sufferings and misfortunes were like successes to you and me. He had everything, but, as he would put it, he had had nothing." This poignant line encapsulates the essence of Myles Connolly's "Mr Blue," a novel that delves deep into the complexities of human desire, spirituality, and the search for meaning in a material world.
Set against the backdrop of bustling 1920s America, "Mr Blue" introduces us to the enigmatic titular character, an unconventional young man who defies societal norms and pursues a life of voluntary poverty and philosophical contemplation. Through a series of vignettes and encounters, Connolly paints a vivid portrait of Blue's eccentric yet profoundly insightful worldview. His unconventional lifestyle challenges the reader to reconsider their own priorities and the true nature of fulfillment.
Connolly's prose is both lyrical and thought-provoking, weaving together humor and poignancy with effortless grace. The narrative unfolds through a series of episodic adventures and philosophical musings, each contributing to the overarching theme of spiritual awakening and the quest for authenticity.
What makes "Mr Blue" truly compelling is its ability to resonate on multiple levels. On one hand, it serves as a critique of the superficiality and materialism of modern society, embodied by Blue's rejection of wealth and status. On the other, it invites readers to ponder deeper existential questions about the nature of happiness and the pursuit of a meaningful life.
The character of Mr Blue himself is brilliantly crafted—an enigmatic figure whose unconventional lifestyle hides a profound wisdom and a genuine desire to live authentically. His interactions with other characters, from the wealthy socialites to the downtrodden and forgotten, reveal the complexities of human relationships and the universal yearning for connection.
In conclusion, "Mr Blue" by Myles Connolly is a timeless exploration of spirituality, individuality, and the pursuit of true happiness in a world that often values material success above all else. It challenges readers to reconsider their own definitions of fulfillment and offers a poignant reminder of the importance of staying true to oneself. This novel is a must-read for anyone interested in thought-provoking literature that transcends its time and place.
I wanted to read Mr. Blue after I heard it was a response to The Great Gatsby.
Mr. Blue, a modern day St. Francis of Assisi, is certainly a much more likable character than Mr. Gatsby… but I must admit I did not think the story was very enthralling. It was sort of bland. Aside from the occasional deep theological thoughts Mr. Blue expresses… the book was just mediocre in my opinion.
This was a fun little story. I may have enjoyed it more if I had read it when it was published in the 1920's. Mr. Blue has a very positive impression of life and also on every person he encounters. There are some messages in here. You will need to read it to see which ones call to you.
Mr. Blue is relatable when he wants to *feel* the suffering of his sacrifices. He thinks (mistakenly) that since every offering he makes is a complete joy to him, it must not count! Oh dear... How many times have I also thought, 'I'm not feeling the pain of the cross, so I must not be doing the sacrifice correctly.' We can have a contrite heart and still be happy, yes? So easy to forget the litany in our Morning Offering: we offer our "prayers, works, *joys*, and sufferings of this day." May we live the joy of Mr. Blue, be content with our cross as given, love the little way of small acts with great love, and let God take care of the rest.
This is a small book that took me longer than anticipated to get through. But just like Dan England and the Noonday Devil, which I had to force myself to really sit with to finish (and I ended up loving!), there's much here to contemplate.
I found this small inspirational book when I was a teenager, and never forgot Mr. Blue, the eccentric main character who lived his short life marveling at the universe and praising the God who made it. His extreme acts made him memorable—from living on top of a early skyscraper in a tent so he was better able to appreciate the stars, to embracing “Lady Poverty” to better practice seeing God in the poor. His charismatic personality and his charity endeared him to others; God’s goodness was visible on his face and in his actions.
The book was written in 1928, but Blue’s wonder is timeless.
Mr. Blue is smitten by movies, the new medium at the time. In my favorite chapter, he narrates an idea that he has for a movie plot. Mr. Blue’s story about the last priest on earth was the part of the book I most vividly remember, even after many decades. It was that plot that I recalled to my husband one day not long ago, and was my reminiscence that led my husband to find and order the book (it was not even found on Amazon!) as a sweet and most thoughtful surprise for me.
I will not spoil this subplot of Mr. Blue by telling that story, but I will publicly thank my husband for following Mr. Blue’s example of spreading joy to others. Thank you, Myles Connelly. Thank you, my dear Bill.
This year, 2018, my New Year’s resolution was to pick twelve of the books that have been loitering on my bookshelves and actually read them. For February, I picked a short novel that has been print continuously since it was originally published in 1928.
While it’s considered Catholic fiction, I remember distinctly why I initially purchased it: the following sentence was on the back cover from John B. Breslin’s introduction: “Blue…was a uniquely American personality. As Myles Connolly wrote him, J. Blue was the man whom the ambitious Jay Gatsby might have become had he steered by a higher truth than the sound of money in Daisy Buchanan’s voice.” A novel that compares its protagonist to Fitzgerald’s Gatsby? I had to have it.
Breslin’s introduction makes may comparisons between Gatsby and Blue. He also called Blue a modern St. Francis of Assissi, which I didn’t seem at all.
Basically Blue is a free spirit, one who is more interested in God and the Earth than in following a strict set of guidelines that the human race places upon itself. He takes a vow of poverty and chases that vow with abandon.
I’m not sure that I truly understand Connolly’s message, but it’s good little read. Mr. Blue receives 3 out of 5 stars in Julie’s world.
My edition of this book by Myles Connolly is a really cute, small paperback, and delightful to carry around, but the contents disappointed me. I think it was the loneliness of the main character that left me empty.
He is a young man in New England who takes the commands of Jesus seriously, to sell everything you have and give to the poor, to forsake the normal path of security and comfort for a greater purpose. You sense that he is well-liked by everyone, but you hardly ever meet any of the people that he helps. Most of the author’s encounters with him involve long speeches from Blue about his wild and unrealistic dreams, the kind of talk you may have heard from people in your own life who are mentally unstable.
The introduction to this book compares Mr. Blue to Jay Gatsby. The narrator can’t agree with Blue’s lifestyle, and he doesn’t always understand him, but he still always admires him. To me, Blue just seems incomplete.
Originally published in 1928 and short (111pgs). Critical reviews called this one of the most important modern Catholic books of our times! Lots to be excited about as I picked up this novel...
However, as I read, it got worse and worse. At moments, it was interesting but the content was inconsistent and the story line erratic. The writing was sometimes non-sequitur and nonsensical. It is culturally stuck in 1920's ragtime America. For such a short book, I had to work to finish it.
Typically Jesuit - intellectually eccentric and borderline heretical. I was not in love with Mr. Blue's character and do not consider him a modern day saint.
I really liked this book, but I don't think I totally understand it. Supposedly it is a reflection on "The Great Gatsby" and a modern interpretation of St. Francis of Assissi.
Mr. Blue is a man who tries to totally live the Christian message. He gives away his inheritance, preaches to strangers, lives on top of a skyscraper in NYC, and works with and lives with the poorest of the poor. And this makes him the happiest man on earth.
I HAD NEVER heard of this until a few months ago when a student said she would like to write a senior thesis comparing it to The Great Gatsby. They were both written in the 1920s, are both set or partly set in New York City (some chapters of Mr. Blue are set in Boston), and both involve charismatic young men who are flush with money, full of big dreams, and meet early deaths. Sounded plausible, so green light on the senior thesis, and I proceeded to find a copy of the novel on the Abebooks site.
Mr. Blue did not sell well upon its first publication in 1928; Connolly moved out to Hollywood soon after and had a long successful career as a screenwriter (working with Frank Capra, among others). He published a few other novels, but this one is the best known. It attained a kind of cult status among Catholic readers and has been more or less continually in print since its publication.
The novel is narrated as a reminiscence by a friend of Blue's who, like Nick Carraway, is sometimes fascinated, sometimes awed, sometimes baffled by his friend and subject. Blue, like Gatsby, seems omni-competent; he charms everyone he meets and seems perfectly positioned to make the most of whatever potentiality awaits in the booming days of the mid-1920s.
While Gatsby's quest is eroto-romantic, however, Blue's is spiritual. According to the introduction (by John B. Breslin, S. J.) in my Loyola Classics edition, Connolly had been reading Chesterton's life of Francis of Assisi before writing the novel, and it's easy to see the novel as an answer to the question: what would a saint like Francis be up to had he appeared in an Eastern seaboard city in the 1920s? Some of the answer makes obvious sense (give all he has to the poor, try to start an order for doing good works, die in saving someone else's life), some not so much (formulating eccentric opinions about film and architecture). There is also some allowance for the utterly whimsical, like Blue's love of balloons and marching bands. And like Gatsby, he has an astonishing car.
I can't see Mr. Blue as a rival for The Great Gatsby's canonical status, though. Fitzgerald's novel has an extraordinary cast of supporting characters--the Buchanans, the Wilsons, Jordan Baker, Meyer Wolfsheim--but in Mr. Blue, only Blue himself gets any sustained attention. Nick Carraway is a good deal more interesting than Blue's nondescript biographer. As far capturing any of the adrenalized buzz of the Jazz Age, Connolly just isn't interested.
Easy to see how it won cult status, though. Blue the character is original and enigmatic, a surprising hybrid of Gatsby and Ignatius O'Reilly.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.