The second novel by the author of «Last Exit to Brooklyn» proved too much for 1970s critics—and too brutally exposed even for Selby himself: he couldn’t bring himself to open it again for a full twenty years. «The Room» is not just a story about imprisonment, but an examination of self-destructive self-hatred, when escape is impossible because the prison is inside.
Everything here is governed by a harsh routine, but time itself seems to seep along the gray official walls. There’s nothing to do—only to remember and relive what remains on the other side of the door. And worst of all is that you end up alone, face to face, with the person you despise—with yourself…
«The Room» (1971), Hubert Selby’s second novel, at first did not receive the recognition it deserved. The author called this book the most painful of everything he had written and admitted that for two decades he didn’t dare to reread it. But over time, things fell into place, and new reviews of this «prison novel» finally gave Selby his due.