Rating: 
Summary: A magnetic read you won't put down
Review: "Endless Love."This book belies its sappy name - which is also a pun, once you discover the staying power of the male protagonist. "Endless Libido" might have been more apropos. I read this four-hundred page book in two days; it's that good. What we have here is the classic crossed lovers scenario painted with twentieth century prose. The sexuality is graphic, lurid at times, but never prurient: comfortably, [naturally?] sacred and profane at the same time. The style is pure with clear magisterial "voice." Part of the novel's charm is the reverence with which the raunchiest encounters and juiciest passions are described. The author's first person narrative reads as conventional text directed to you, the reader; then, suddenly, the author-reader contract is violated as the protagonist slips into another true confession to his "endless" love. As you gradually allow yourself to participate in the customary conventions of a willing suspension of disbelief between author and reader, you continually remark the absolutely intense perspicacity and eye for detail of the "teenage author." The sustained subliminal effect of this (eye for sensual detail) is evocative of Oscar Wilde: you're fascinated, you identify, you quietly and vicariously revel. Fundamentally, this is a passion play, a book of torture, for the deepest of the pains of hell is the absence of the beloved, and the protagonist has his share of this living nightmare. Additionally, I didn't (nor do) care for the ending. If you've read the book, you likely know why. If you haven't, no matter. (I began having "1984" flashbacks reading the finale - and that is a very soulless affair, indeed.) "Characters develop," we hear tell. There's not much of that here. It doesn't matter, either. For what we have here is a valuable testament to the power of love. Typical fare:
"My imagination of disaster tormented me as if it were a separate, vicious self. I longed to stop thinking of consequences, just as we must do when we dive from high boards, leap on our skis down steep sunblind slopes, or play any of the other daredevil games we've invented as metaphors for love. (150) "Ann's grief was like what I had known of love: it increased itself; it wound its way to its very source. . . . This, now, was Ann as she really was: savage, helpless, eternal. . . . Her hold on me was contact at its most true and elemental: like two wolves huddling together in a blizzard, we grabbed each other and held on to life. (240-1) "Of course when you love someone it is a tireless passion to experience their pleasure, especially sexual pleasure. Of all the many perversions, the one I found myself most capable of succumbing to was voyeurism - as long as the object of my voyeurism was Jade. I never failed to be moved by her expressions of sexual pleasure. When we were first learning to make love and I had some trouble in controlling myself, she had to be careful to keep as quiet as possible. Even heavy breathing would speed my climax, not to even mention moans. Later in our life together, when we were making love three, four, and five times a night (for our passion grew with our prowess), Jade would sometimes become impatient for my final orgasm - which would come with more difficulty than hers, because of the natural differences between the genders - and to bring us safely home so we both might fall asleep she would feign groans of pleasure with her lips right next to my ear, or say my name. It wouldn't really take anything more than that." (313) This is a book with a good heart.
Rating:
Summary: A magnetic read you won't put down
Review: "Endless Love." This book belies its sappy name - which is also a pun, once you discover the staying power of the male protagonist. "Endless Libido" might have been more apropos. I read this four-hundred page book in two days; it's that good. What we have here is the classic crossed lovers scenario painted with twentieth century prose. The sexuality is graphic, lurid at times, but never prurient: comfortably, [naturally?] sacred and profane at the same time. The style is pure with clear magisterial "voice." Part of the novel's charm is the reverence with which the raunchiest encounters and juiciest passions are described. The author's first person narrative reads as conventional text directed to you, the reader; then, suddenly, the author-reader contract is violated as the protagonist slips into another true confession to his "endless" love. As you gradually allow yourself to participate in the customary conventions of a willing suspension of disbelief between author and reader, you continually remark the absolutely intense perspicacity and eye for detail of the "teenage author." The sustained subliminal effect of this (eye for sensual detail) is evocative of Oscar Wilde: you're fascinated, you identify, you quietly and vicariously revel. Fundamentally, this is a passion play, a book of torture, for the deepest of the pains of hell is the absence of the beloved, and the protagonist has his share of this living nightmare. Additionally, I didn't (nor do) care for the ending. If you've read the book, you likely know why. If you haven't, no matter. (I began having "1984" flashbacks reading the finale - and that is a very soulless affair, indeed.) "Characters develop," we hear tell. There's not much of that here. It doesn't matter, either. For what we have here is a valuable testament to the power of love. Typical fare:
"My imagination of disaster tormented me as if it were a separate, vicious self. I longed to stop thinking of consequences, just as we must do when we dive from high boards, leap on our skis down steep sunblind slopes, or play any of the other daredevil games we've invented as metaphors for love. (150) "Ann's grief was like what I had known of love: it increased itself; it wound its way to its very source. . . . This, now, was Ann as she really was: savage, helpless, eternal. . . . Her hold on me was contact at its most true and elemental: like two wolves huddling together in a blizzard, we grabbed each other and held on to life. (240-1) "Of course when you love someone it is a tireless passion to experience their pleasure, especially sexual pleasure. Of all the many perversions, the one I found myself most capable of succumbing to was voyeurism - as long as the object of my voyeurism was Jade. I never failed to be moved by her expressions of sexual pleasure. When we were first learning to make love and I had some trouble in controlling myself, she had to be careful to keep as quiet as possible. Even heavy breathing would speed my climax, not to even mention moans. Later in our life together, when we were making love three, four, and five times a night (for our passion grew with our prowess), Jade would sometimes become impatient for my final orgasm - which would come with more difficulty than hers, because of the natural differences between the genders - and to bring us safely home so we both might fall asleep she would feign groans of pleasure with her lips right next to my ear, or say my name. It wouldn't really take anything more than that." (313) This is a book with a good heart.
Rating:
Summary: An Intense Trip to Nowhere
Review: After reading Men In Black, I decided to give this "classic" a spin. Interestingly, my opinion is largely the same.... Spencer's characters don't change much from beginning to end, so for those who expect a book to be a journey, you could be disappointed. However, I don't disagree with any other review in the slightest... I had a lot of trouble putting this book down, and the emotions were of an intensity that's hard to find in a book... There's also a lot of interesting undertones about the psychiatric community... ie: releasing David when his moral character is arguably at its most dangerous. This is an excellent read... just don't expect a wonderous journey from point a to point b... It's actually point a to point a, but a fun time getting there.
Rating: 
Summary: heartbreaking and unforgettable.......
Review: I am so pleased and surprised to see how many other readers have experienced, and been moved by, reading this book. I can honestly say that no other book I've ever read has had the same impact on me as "Endless Love'-and its been many years since my first reading. The beauty of this novel is that it can be enjoyed on so many levels-emotionally, intellectually, and, on the very surface, for entertainment. It covers a wide array of emotional ground, and you'd be hardpressed to find a reader who can't find something in it that they identify with. Certain sentences and passages literally took my breath away. The novel is truly original in that it chronoicles a love story and it's long reaching and dark aftermath without ever delving into sentimentality or cliches, it's definalty a far cry from the typical boy-meets-girl color by numbers plot. In fact, the origins of the relationship it focuses on happen off-camera, before the novel even begins, so we're left with the perceptions and memories of the characters (which may or may not be reliable) in order to construe the real facts. But, as the main character notes, what is factual is not always what is true, and the contradiction between reality and perception that runs throughout the novel only adds to its overall impact. The novel also suceeds in creating David, a protagaonist whose sanity and morality are at times highly debatable, however, he is written with such honesty and detailed insight that it is impossible not to get swept up in his journey and care about what happens to him. Despite all his recklessness and its abyssmal results, I could not honestly blame David for his decisions. While he broke the rules of society, law,and logic, he remained truthful to his heart, to point of insanity and despair, and any reader whose ever given, received, or yearned for the idealistic and maybe impossible endless love he strives to keep will find this book both heartbreaking and unforgettable.
Rating:
Summary: Undeservedly out of print
Review: I am sorry to learn here on Amazon that Endless Love is out of print after just eighteen years. This is a magnificent novel fatally tarred by the reputation of what I gather to have been an atrocious film adaptation, a piece of work so egregious that the stench of it clings undeservedly to this flawed but wonderful work, a flick so foul that friends who've trusted my judgments in these matters for decades have actually sneered when I've talked up the book. But consider Defense Exhibit A, the opening paragraph:
<<When I was seventeen, and in full obedience to my heart's most urgent commands, I stepped far from the pathway of normal life and in a moment's time ruined everything I loved--I loved so deeply, and when the love was interrupted, when the incorporeal body of love shrank back in terror and my own body was locked away, it was hard for others to believe that a life so new could suffer so irrevocably. But now, years have passed, and the night of August 12, 1967, still divides my life.>>
--Purple prose, yes, but purple prose of a superior order, purple prose which, late in the narrative, sustains an explicit sexual passage (and these are difficult to do well, between the Scylla of smut and the Charybdis of cliché) for an astonishing thirty pages in the hardcover edition. It's still a journeyman's work in some respects: Spencer moves the plot via a concatenation of disasters, as though he were propelling a ball down the street, with a series of terrific kicks administered each time the story wobbles slowly toward the gutter. None of this detracts, really, from the thrill of the book.
Spencer returned to the same themes of obsession and loss in 1986 with Waking the Dead, a book with many of the same weaknesses (though less weak) and many of the same strengths (though not quite as strong). This is also well worth the read, but if you've time for only one Scott Spencer novel this year, track down a copy of Endless Love.
Rating: 
Summary: Not That Great
Review: I don't understand why so many people loved this novel so much. It is interesting until about the middle, then it starts to get more boring. The sex scenes are boring and unoriginal, and I don't see why David is supposed to be "innocent", when he is clearly disturbed.
Rating:
Summary: haunting story of love gone wrong
Review: I first read Endless Love when it first came out in 1980, but probably would not have had I seen the unfortunate film adaptation first. That would have been a shame, as this book was truly unforgettable and has become one of my all time favorites. Had it not been for the badly made film, this book would still be in print and would have become a modern classic.
I have read it several times since it first was published, and am saddened to find it is no longer in print.
Spencer's writing is astonishing in its depth of feeling and the beauty of its prose. I am not a big fan of romances in general, but Endless Love is so honest in its depiction of a romantically obsessed young man that for this I make an exception. If you've ever been deeply in love, much of what is described will be painfully--and wonderfully--familiar. Trust me: this is no Harlequin romance. You will not find cliches or sappiness here. The few[physical] scenes, while explicit, are never trashy or shallow. In fact, they are necessary to truly bring to life the depth of David's feelings for his lover, Jade. These scenes are long and powerful. The type of love David experiences transforms the mundane to the poetic, the disgusting to the beautiful. ... So are David's scenes with Jade's wordly mother Ann. The emotions in these scenes are astonishing, powerful, and many-faceted. We get to know both characters intimately, and while we could fault them for their immorality and lack of good judgment, we realize they are desperate--and both desperately miserable. They can't help what they do, so we can forgive them, and sympathize with them. David is nearly constantly in tears or plotting to find the girl he can never forget. His misery is so intense it is almost a tangible thing. (Don't read this if you don't want to feel depressed). His traditional Jewish parents love him but do not understand him, or his obsession. Frightened and concerned about their only son, they they throw away Jade's letters "for his own good," which turns out to be the worst thing they could have done. Those letters were David's only tangible evidence of his shortlived life with Jade--and he literally falls to pieces there in front of their kitchen sink. The saddest thing is the disparity between David and Jade's lives after the fire, and after David is released from the hospital. Jade, evidently, was able to move on and create a life for herself; David cannot--will not--let go. David is part of her past, a teenage romance, and she could take or leave him; to David, Jade is his only reason for living. Yet he is not a stalker in the sense one normally associates with that term. He never becomes violent or abusive in his efforts to win her back; the violence is only to himself. He is his own worst enemy, and he never is able to realize that, and move on. Witnessing the slow disintegration of his mind and soul is a frightening and tragic thing. If you are able to get your hands on a copy of this book, grab it and read it! ... Spencer's writing style alone is reason enough to read Endless Love. I have read some of Spencer's other books, but this is by far my favorite.
Rating:
Summary: awesome and powerful writing
Review: I first read Endless Love when it first came out in 1980, but probably would not have had I seen the unfortunate film adaptation first. That would have been a shame, as this book was truly unforgettable and has become one of my all time favorites. Had it not been for the badly made film, this book would still be in print and would have become a modern classic.
I have read it several times since it first was published, and am saddened to find it is no longer in print.
Spencer's writing is astonishing in its depth of feeling and the beauty of its prose. I am not a big fan of romances in general, but Endless Love is so honest in its depiction of a romantically obsessed young man that for this I make an exception. If you've ever been deeply in love, much of what is described will be painfully--and wonderfully--familiar. Trust me: this is no Harlequin romance. You will not find cliches or sappiness here. The few[physical] scenes, while explicit, are never trashy or shallow. In fact, they are necessary to truly bring to life the depth of David's feelings for his lover, Jade. These scenes are long and powerful. The type of love David experiences transforms the mundane to the poetic, the disgusting to the beautiful. ... So are David's scenes with Jade's wordly mother Ann. The emotions in these scenes are astonishing, powerful, and many-faceted. We get to know both characters intimately, and while we could fault them for their immorality and lack of good judgment, we realize they are desperate--and both desperately miserable. They can't help what they do, so we can forgive them, and sympathize with them. David is nearly constantly in tears or plotting to find the girl he can never forget. His misery is so intense it is almost a tangible thing. (Don't read this if you don't want to feel depressed). His traditional Jewish parents love him but do not understand him, or his obsession. Frightened and concerned about their only son, they they throw away Jade's letters "for his own good," which turns out to be the worst thing they could have done. Those letters were David's only tangible evidence of his shortlived life with Jade--and he literally falls to pieces there in front of their kitchen sink. The saddest thing is the disparity between David and Jade's lives after the fire, and after David is released from the hospital. Jade, evidently, was able to move on and create a life for herself; David cannot--will not--let go. David is part of her past, a teenage romance, and she could take or leave him; to David, Jade is his only reason for living. Yet he is not a stalker in the sense one normally associates with that term. He never becomes violent or abusive in his efforts to win her back; the violence is only to himself. He is his own worst enemy, and he never is able to realize that, and move on. Witnessing the slow disintegration of his mind and soul is a frightening and tragic thing. If you are able to get your hands on a copy of this book, grab it and read it! ... Spencer's writing style alone is reason enough to read Endless Love. I have read some of Spencer's other books, but this is by far my favorite.
Rating:
Summary: It needs and deserves to be read more than once.
Review: I first read this book in 1981 as a young adult at the urging of a friend, who told me to ignore the horribly sappy movie and get the book. I reread several passages last night, more than 16 years later, and the same feelings of heartbreak and sadness swept over me again. Scott Spencer introduces us to David on the eve his obsession with Jade crosses over into the criminal. David's first-person account of his life from the moment he sets fire to his lover's house describes the descent toward the hell of insanity. Alienated from what once was the loving embrace of Jade's family, and ordered to stay away from Jade, David, cannot. He pursues her, and she allows him to, occasionally pushing him away, then allowing him near again. Brilliantly detailed sexual scenes intermingle with violence and death. David is aware of his growing madness from his teenage years into adulthood. Twice he is jailed and hospitalized, and he admits his insanity with precision, unable, and unwilling, to do anything about it. The very last line of the novel, naked and cold, demonstrates the depth of that madness. The language is sometimes overblown, but the pace of the novel lets us share in David's obsession. As we are with Holden Caufield, we are swept along in David's disintegrating life. Events fly at us from his viewpoint, leaving us breathless, reeling. When disaster just misses David, we feel the rush of wind as it blows by. When disaster strikes him, we feel the full force of it. The characters are complex. Spencer draws them with sympathy, and yet it is easy to hate them at times. As with any good work, it excites the reader on the surface, but entices the reader to a deeper examination. It is a shame the title Endless Love has become associated with a farce of a movie, and an even worse song. Those two things probably doomed the book to the discount shelves, and hastened its exit from print. I would like to recommend it to reading groups; I would like to discuss it in a group to deepen my own understanding. Scour the used book stores for the novel; it is worth the search.
Rating:
Summary: Wow
Review: I had to read this book as an intro to my 20th Century Classics course. I was skeptical about it at first because I find romance novels to be tedious and almost wasteful to me. This novel though... I guess it would have to be a romance novel, but it blew me away. It was scarier than a horror book because it flirts with what is real and what isn't in a relationship - to the extent where I didn't know! For example, an unreal event would occur and then it would suddenly seem not only real but also justified under David's circumstances. But under normal circumstances, one would probably think it would be ludicrous and fake. Spencer's style is amazing and I can't believe this book hasn't received more acclaim. If you have a day or two of free time, this story will be worth your time - I won't forget it anytime soon.
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