I like this book a lot. I think it's kind of rare to read an autobiography by someone who did so many stupid things and is completely willing to be up front about them. It's also kind of nice, for a change, to read a book by a junkie who doesn't try to foist the blame for that off on someone else - and a junkie musician who doesn't try to blame the collapse of his career on anyone other than himself. That kind of honesty is wonderfully refreshing. I also appreciate getting some understanding of where the music I listen to comes from, and, in between the fascinatingly (and horrifyingly) detailed descriptions of life in San Quentin, there are some equally fascinating descriptions of what the scene that produced a lot of my favourite records was like. Probably not a book for the faint of heart, but then again I've read worse. The quality of the text is excellent - his wife, Laurie, did a terrific job transcribing the taped interviews and keeping the tone authentic; I also really like the way she interspersed the bits by Art and his friends and family with old articles from Down Beat. It's a very well crafted book.
It wouldn't make much sense to read a book about a musician without hearing some of his music. I recommend checking these records out: Playboys (1956) [with Chet Baker] Art Pepper Meets The Rhythm Section (1957) Art Pepper +Eleven (1959) Straight Life (1979) [title track on youtube]
I love getting to read books I would never have found on my own. As a happy antitheist, I would definitely not have discovered this one had it not been lent to me - which would have been a shame, because it's quite a fascinating work. I find it completely absorbing to try and understand why believing sorts of people believe in what things they believe in. It's an interesting experience to discuss faith with someone who can articulate their beliefs in a way that makes sense, rather than just garbling out recycled propaganda. Such folk seem to be few and far between, but I think this anonymous Medieval author must have been exactly that type. The sheer beauty of their phrasing, and the analogies they draw, bring a certain appealing logic to a subject which I usually find completely appalling. It's particularly lovely how their lessons make it clearer than ever to me that, deep down, nearly all religions are founded on the same basic ideas (I read this side by side with a text on Shinto, and marvelled, despite the differences in their surface trappings, at the uncanny similarities between Eastern mysticism and Christian mysticism).
I did feel a slight sense of loss in the translation from Middle English to modern English. Though Dr. Butcher did a bang-up job recreating the comfortable and familiar attitude of the original text, which (at least in the little I've read here) reads like a letter to a close and beloved friend, I can't help feeling a bit thrown off by her use of modern colloquialisms. For we particularly nerdy readers, there might be more joy in reading an untranslated edition with the aid of a Middle English dictionary.
This is a really lovely film. Directed and narrated by the brilliant Bruce Brown, king of the surf movie, it captures a few glorious, golden (and sometimes mud-stained) moments in the exhilarating world of motorcycle racing. From the surreal beauty of the Bonneville salt flats to the frigid wastes of Quebec in winter; from Florida to Spain; from thigh-deep mudholes to the 30-degree banks of the Daytona speedway, on any Sunday, someone, somewhere, is racing - some to win, some for the hell of it, some because they can, and some because they can't imagine doing anything else. As a fan of both two-wheeled vehicles and those very sweet-natured early-'70s sports documentaries, I delighted in the joyful tone of Brown's celebration of all levels of racing, from the mesmerisingly hair-raising high speed AMA championship events to the ridiculously silly (though still hair-raising) Widowmaker hill climb event. Whether or not you care much for motorbikes or racing, I think it's nearly always a pleasure to watch people who are very, very good at something perform, and this is a prime example of why:
I made this list for a friend, and thought it might be of interest to anyone else who doesn't know what to read next. If that's you (or if you, like me, are always looking to increase your reading list), here are 10 books (in no particular order) you might like to check out this summer:
1. I'll Never Get Out Of This World Alive by Steve Earle. [If you only read one novel this summer, make it this one. It's extraordinarily lovely.]
2. archy and mehitabel by Don Marquis. [Marvelous light reading if you've a fondness for century-old pop-culture witticisms and wickedness disquised as whimsicality.]
3. The End of the Line by Charles Clover. [If you only read one work of nonfiction this summer, make it this one. Fascinating, motivating, and tragically relevant. Please read it (and make everyone else read it, too).]
4. The Lady in the Lake by Raymond Chandler. [A prime example of why Mr. Chandler remains, for many of us, the king of the detective novel. I recommend reading this in a hammock while sipping a highball.]
5. Shutting Out the Sun:How Japan Created Its Own Lost Generation by Michael Zielenziger. [This is really interesting - especially if you've any interest in psychology, East Asia, global economics, and/or the really f*cked-up bits of modern societies and how they make sane people act crazy.]
6. Thousand Cranes by Kawabata Yasunari. [Probably my personal favourite Japanese novel (so far, anyhow). Slender, elegant, and bittersweet - a perfect read for a cool summer evening spent outdoors and alone.]
7. Kill Your Boyfriend by Grant Morrison, Philip Bond, & D'Israeli. [This is my all-time favourite comic book. Stylish, snappy, horrifying, hilarious, and, weirdly, kinda heartwarming. Strong storytelling and beautiful artwork.]
8. Moonfleet by John Meade Falkner. [A classic adventure novel. Smugglers, treasure, backgammon, England, scoundrels, thieves, rats, and the sea... If you love Treasure Island, don't miss this! An especial favorite of my Dad and myself.]
9. Thomas the Rhymer by Ellen Kushner. [If you happen to like fantasy novels, this one is particularly good. Kushner is an elegant stylist and a masterful storyteller.]
10. Lost Horizon by James Hilton. [This appeared rather mysteriously on my bookshelf, and, not one to turn my nose up at magically appearing books, I have been thoroughly enjoying it. Another classic, best known for originating 'Shangri-La,' this is surprisingly thoughtful for a paperback adventure romance. Delightfully '30s, and charmingly British in a slightly antiquated sort of a way.]
Did you know that, according to the sorts of scientists who crank out obscure trivia, every tear you cry eventually ends up in the ocean? This is relevant here because Mitchell's book might cause you to shed tears of pure rage. Tackling the difficult subject of ocean change (a massive contributing factor to global climate change), she lists example after example of horrifying things that the human race has done to the seas and everything in them, including plastic islands, oxygenless 'dead zones' of water where nothing can live, and entire species fished to the brink of extinction. Thankfully she also lists things that can, could, and should be done to try and halt (or at least assuage) the potentially catastrophic effects of ocean and climate change. The question, as always, is whether enough people will give enough of a damn to change anything at all.
Sore subject aside, it's fascinating just to follow her research expedition as she travels the world visiting coral reefs, universities, Australians, starving Tanzanian villagers, floating laboratories, a marine conference in China, a paleoecological dig in Spain, and the bottom of the sea. I learned a ton of incredibly cool facts about phytoplankton (which produce about half of the world's atmospheric oxygen) and corals, and some rather less cool facts about modern fishing practises and why there are certain types of seafood we simply oughtn't to eat.
In case you might think that Mitchell is simply a paranoid alarmist or a bleeding-heart crackpot commie Canadian liberal, I'd like to point out that she was named by Reuters as the best environmental reporter in the world. That's hardly the title of a crackpot, rather the label of a great writer and a fanatically accurate researcher. Please do read her book.
This may be the most appetizing of all books about comics. Part evolutionary history of the superhero, part memoir of a life defined by this quirky and oft-maligned medium; served up in bite-sized chapters (I defy you to read just one!) by the quirky and oft-maligned writer of Arkham Asylum, The Invisibles, Kill Your Boyfriend (plug: this may be my favourite comic in the whole world), and All-Star Superman. Fascinating read - there are so many superheroes I've never even heard of! - best enjoyed with a notebook near at hand for keeping track of all the comics (also books, films, and records) you'll want to look up. A nice mix of straight-up history and personal commentary; Morrison manages to insert his opinions regarding most of the content without being obnoxious about it (a neat trick, that). The main thing is that his book is just plain entertaining, as books about comics ought be be and so often aren't. It's quite good fun to know why he thinks Watchmen was important even though he doesn't really like it, and an entirely different kind of fun reading about his transformatively psychedelic out-of-body adventure in Kathmandu. I really like the way he's woven strands of his life story in and out of the narrative, so that the book is never really about him but also never really not about him; it's an unusual and a lovely method of autobiography. Highly recommended!
There are a host of reasons why this might be the coolest thing I've seen all year. It's certainly one of the most relevant, given the neverending debates, arguments, and all-out warfare surrounding the issue of copyright infringement. Because I've only got 300 words here I can't just gush about how much I love this movie, so here are two of the aforementioned host of reasons:
1. The concept! This is an open source film. All of the footage is freely available on the Open Source Cinema site under a Creative Commons license; you are allowed - nay, encouraged - to download it, copy it, slap it together with new stuff and/or in new ways (in short, remix it) and make your own damn movie.
2. Cory Doctorow's in it. And if that's not enough cool in one place for you, there's also Lawrence Lessig, about whom I am in total agreement with filmmaker Brett Gaylor: this man is the coolest lawyer in the world. Still not enough? Okay, how about pirate cartoonist Dan O' Neill, legendary musician Gilberto Gil, and Bittersweet Symphony capoeira in the slums of Rio? Oh, and did I mention that a good deal of the film centres on kickass mashup artist Gregg Gillis, better known as the infamous Girl Talk?
Go watch this intelligent, informative, levelheaded, and terrifyingly to-the-point film. It's affordable and readily available (hell, the whole thing's on youtube - though if you like it and you've got some spare change, you can make a donation). Form your own opinion (or borrow a few from other people and make a philosophical mashup). I see this project's message as an invitation to help create the world we want to live in, and that is gloriously cool.
This is what I call a three-hour book; an adventure story both ripping and gripping, and a thoroughly enjoyable one at that. I gobbled it down in an afternoon, with lavish amounts of enjoyment despite only having been able to find an irritating large-print edition. This is absolutely my favourite motorcycle book to date (and I've read quite a few), owing largely to the delightful nature and circumstances of the author. Lois is lovely! Her wicked sense of humour and lust for the road, combined with her endearing love for the very sort of small motorcycles that I myself adore and her rather excellent style of writing, make her the best sort of person to write a book about a madcap motorbike trip from Alaska to Argentina. It's lovely the way she doesn't take herself too seriously and isn't afraid to tell a few stupid stories on herself; that sort of disarming openness makes me think very well indeed of her. It's also rather nice to read a motorcycle travel book by someone who wasn't running away from anything more than a slightly boring life.
I can't help comparing all the moto books I've read with one another, and though I enjoyed The Perfect Vehicle, am very glad I read Ghost Rider, and have a proper appreciation for Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, there's a lot to be said for sometimes just reading a good story by a good-natured person who isn't particularly sad, doesn't feel sorry for herself (except when she's got food poisoning, and really, I think feeling sorry for oneself is de rigeur at such times), and doesn't let philosophy get in the way of letting herself have a rip-roaring good time. Highly recommended for anyone who likes reading adventures, whether or not you care about motorbikes!
Reading this was an interesting experience. I found myself in the unusual position of liking the book immensely while disliking the author intensely. I could feel no sympathy towards her desperate need for a man to look after her, particularly as she described over and over again how she would entrust her beloved motorcycle to an inept mechanic, knowing that she'd end up redoing his work afterwards, just because she felt like she had to have someone masculine do those things for her. Sh*t like that irritates me insanely, particularly coming from a talented, reasonably successful woman who has ridden thousands and thousands of miles alone and is physically, though apparently not emotionally, capable of taking care of herself and her machines.
I can't dislike her book though, because this lady knows exactly how to describe what makes riding so wonderful. She's a damned fine writer, and manages the neat trick of writing nonfiction that's as much of a pleasure to read as a great novel. All of the tips and tricks and facts and bits of history are so neatly laced together with beautifully polished words that I almost wanted to memorize half the book, just because I knew I'd never be able to say these things so well in my own words. Any motorcycle aficionado ought to enjoy this book, which encapsulates much of the sheer joy of riding, and every non-rider ought to read it so they can better understand the rider mindset (and hopefully keep a better eye out for us when they drive their cars).
This one's a bit of a tearjearker, the story of a man who lost absolutely everything and survived only by running away. It would be sad even if it weren't true - his daughter died, his wife died, his dog died, and his best friend went to prison - but it is true; all of that really happened to the author, who is also the drummer for Canadian band Rush. The book chronicles a series of impressively long motorcycle trips he took, through North and Central America, hoping that time, distance, and miles-put-behind would let him escape the shambles of his life. Apart from the tragic elements, it's a wonderful travel story; the collected letters and journal entries that he tied together with concise, illustrative reminiscences portray an astonishing number of km traveled, sights seen, and well-described fun roads ridden. He's a very good writer, in a concise, almost-journalistic sort of way. There is a little bit of a financial disconnect; as a reader accustomed to shoestring-budget travel, I did keep getting a bit hung up on all the expensive meals he ate and the way he could always afford to stay in good hotels, and his ever-growing collection of beautiful motorcycles. But hey - the man worked hard for his fortune, and I'm glad it was able to help him live through his troubles.
Highlight: one of the real pleasures of this book is reading about all the other books Peart, a voracious reader, consumed during his travels (I look forward to reading many of them myself).
I hate nature documentaries. Nature is supercool, generally speaking, but the makers of these wretched pieces of work have an incredible penchant for stripping all semblance of meaning from the natural world. This one is no exception. Though filmed in impressive and often beautiful (and sometimes incredibly disgusting) close-up detail, the almost total lack of narration means that one spends the whole film going "but why are those bugs fighting?" "but WHY are the caterpillars marching in lines, is someone about to snort them or something?" "what is that thing?" The soundtrack is nothing short of execrable. It sounds as if they remixed a really awful early-20th-century opera with Tom Waits' worst drunken moments and also a gentrified circus side show. Highlight: a pheasant eating ants.
This film would probably be perfect if you projected it on the ceiling during a party and spiked the punch with LSD.
I've never much cared for country music. There's always an exception though; in this case that's a handful of artists who belonged to the Outlaw Country movement of the 1960s and 70s, particularly Guy Clark, Larry Jon Wilson, and the immortal Townes Van Zandt. Their anachronistic style, harking back to the days before Chet Atkins' slickly modern 'Nashville Sound', was firmly rooted in the honky-tonk and folk music tradition of authenticity - these musicians usually managed to sound like they were thinking of something other than money while they sang. It's good stuff. This lovely little documentary shows a motley assortment of performances, interviews, and recording studio sessions by quite a few country greats (including Guy, Larry Jon, Townes, Charlie Daniels, and a very young Steve Earle). I'd say it's a must-watch even if you think you don't like country music; you just might change your mind. I know I did. Definitely watch the extras.
Highlight: Guy Clark repairing Billy Callery's guitar (seriously - it's mesmerizing). Oh, yeah, and the soundtrack is rather good.
Film poster featuring Townes & Uncle Seymour Washington
I really like this book. Cherie Currie, former lead singer of groundbreaking all-girl rock band The Runaways (whose founding and best-known member was the illustrious Joan Jett), has lived an extraordinary and varied life (from valley girl to underage rock star, film actress to nonfunctional drug addict, teen counselor to world-renowned chainsaw carver...), and her memoir spares none of the gritty details. It's a bit of a harrowing read, owing to the mind-boggling amount of illicit substances consumed, the heartless exploitation of talented young girls, and the sheer number of terrifying situations Ms. Currie managed to get herself into. It's also fairly amazing (and inspiring) to know how she lived through it all, reinventing herself over and over again, and continues to be a gifted, creative, and exceptionally strong lady. The quality of writing leaves a little to be desired, but I've seen worse, and the quality of content is more than satisfying.
Check out her website to see photos of her lovely and unique art.
