At first, it was honestly hard to get into the plot of the story. It was so detailed on the ordinary in and out details of the story that I would often re-read to make sure that there wasn't something hidden in the mundane plot that I was totally missing. However, in the last 1/5 of the book, it starts to blossom into what the idea of aging is all about, accepting what you can't change, forgiving yourself for shortcomings that you don't mean to have, and enjoying life. I was actually thrilled that even though the ending alludes to Henry's death, that is not how the book ends. It ends with Henry still being enthralled with nature and life. This book is best summarized by the summary on the back of the book: "A member of the greatest generation looks back on the loves and losses of his past and comes to treasure the present anew in this poignant and thoughtful novel from a modern master." It reminds me of Garth Brook's song, "The Dance". "And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd have to miss the dance." I imagine most of us do not want to know how long we have to live or even how we will die. Dwelling on the ending takes away from the beauty of the middle and the end. I had full intentions at the beginning of only giving this book three stars because of the slow plot, but the last part of the book made up for it. Through the rambling thoughts of a 75-year-old man, we realize that we all take the same path of being attractive and having a fun life, just to settle down and enjoy family and the real meaning of living. Such a beautiful expression of life through a book! I was so glad I was able to read this. ( )

I discovered O'Nan with his harrowing The Circus Fire, a nonfiction account of a horrific 1944 fire that trapped 8000 people inside a big top tent that had been waterproofed with kerosene. It was unputdownable. A subsequent novel, Last Night at the Red Lobster was a sweet, sad story about the intertwined lives of the people who work at a franchise restaurant where we have probably all eaten, or at some version of it. Henry is a "prequel" to O'Nan's two other Maxwell family novels, Emily, Alone and Wish You Were Here - both intimate observations of the travails and relations of Henry, his wife Emily, their children and grandchildren.

Henry is seventy five, a WWII veteran, retired engineer, patient and skillful handyman, patient and devoted husband. He makes lists. He putters. He fusses over the yard. He fixes things. He remembers - and doesn't remember - things. He exerts himself to please his often curt, deeply pragmatic wife, and puzzles over how he did as a father. He is steady, kind, reliable. We all know a Henry. We may have been a Henry. O'Nan does better what Karl Ove Knausgaard took multiple volumes to do: engage us in the ordinary activities and daily ruminations of an ordinary man. O'Nan chooses, sculpts, arranges, and lights the days, weeks, and months with grace, flashes of poignancy, and affection.

That's it. O'Nan is very good with the details - maybe a little too good. Readers will smile with recognition at the 2x4s in the garage to help stop the car in the right place, the bickering over what to send to the rummage sale, keeping track of medications, handling a spouse's uncertain (or certain) moods, the loss of friends and health, and the approach of death. But sometimes there can simply be too many details. If you have read Emily or Wish You Were Here, you will probably know more than you need to about the family summers at the cottage, golfing, and fraught holiday gatherings. Still, the gems of insights and observations are true and touching.

Towards the end, Henry is left to host a full-on Thanksgiving dinner with his son's family when Emily is called away to tend to their troubled daughter in the hospital. He is overwhelmed by the lists, the instructions, the traditions... and yet, they have a lovely day. They gather, cook, eat, drink, laugh, talk, help and enjoy each other... even the prickly daughter-in-law (a somewhat thinly drawn character who maybe needs a book of her own). It is a sweet success... with Emily absent. And yet... he misses her so.

Houses are frequently "buttoned up," Rufus the dog is generally "sacked out," Emily very often tells Henry to "Go away." This is not for those who like an action-driven plot. Skimming the golf games is advised. But Henry is a good man. It is good that there are writers who pay attention to such things. ( )

With the great reviews and a well known author, I was really looking forward to HENRY.

Unfortunately, it proved disappointing as slow-moving became boring and the toilet episode a total loser,
as was the Margaret car accident.

Expecting either Emily or Henry to do die, I'm just glad it wouldn't be Rufus. ( )

A brilliantly simple novel told from Henry's point of view. Henry goes through every day events as each chapter is an episode from his life in 1998. His 74 years have taught him a lot about himself and the people around him. The reader can't help but see themselves or those they know in the stories. The chapter about the church garage sale and his mother's grapes really hit home for me. It a book about every day struggles and small victories. Readers of Anne Tyler, Ann Patchett and Elizabeth Strout will enjoy Henry, Himself. ( )

This is the third of a trilogy, Wish You Were Here, Emily Alone, and now Henry Himself, all told from the pov of Henry, Emily's husband. We learn of Henry's boyhood and youth, but most of the story is about his and Emily's marriage and everyday life, particularly after Henry's retirement. Not much happens. Henry putters around and fixes things. Emily cooks and writes Christmas cards. They fret about their daughter, who at one time had a substance abuse problem and who may now be headed for divorces. Emily worries that their son's wife is "hostile" to her. Just everyday life. Most of all I loved the parts about their lake cottage and the family gatherings there, which makes me want to reread Wish You Were Here. I heartily recommend this book, but you might have to be of a "certain age" to enjoy it as much as I did. ( )