Book: Steve Earle 'I'll Never Get Out Of This World Alive' (2011)

Okay, I promise not to mention Steve Earle again for at least 10 posts. After this one, that is - Mr. Earle's debut novel has my vote for the best book of 2011, so I have to write about it. First of all, the man can write - anyone who pays attention to that sort of thing will be deeply satisfied by the style and grace with which he strings words together. Secondly, it's awfully rare that someone takes grim subject matter (in this case junk addicts, slums, whores, the Kennedy assassination, an accidentally-pregnant Mexican girl, and a discredited doctor turned back-alley abortionist who is haunted by the ghost of Hank Williams) and manages to create something which isn't depressing, disheartening, or just plain ugly. This book is so far from being ugly I think I'd have to label it something pretentious like transcendentally lovely, which, on second thought, doesn't seem excessive as a description for a story that travels from a Texas brothel to a Mexican valley full of Monarch butterflies. The book is named for Hank's last song, which you might like to listen to for context; there's also rather a good record of the same name which Earle released last year. I love, love, love this book - it's beautiful and heartbreaking and lyrical and sometimes funny, and also just a plain ol' good story - please, please read it.

What I originally wrote after reading this: 'I'm going to write a review once I can find the words, but in the meantime, please read this astonishingly beautiful little book. It will touch a corner of your heart that you might not even have known about.'