A Million Little Pieces – James Frey

If you're Oprah, don't read this. I have had this book targeted on my shelf for ages and have long been debating my near-term To Read List so that it may be included. I do not know why I kept pushing it off, but I have finally come around to read the biggest story of the year 2007!

I enjoyed it, it had some great stuff to offer. It also had some stuff that buggered me. In all, though, I am glad I finally took the time.

It starts out without giving the reader any sort of back story. Just a drunk/drugged out junkie going through a bit of withdrawals maybe that force his breakfast, lunch, and dinner to be poured out all over his clothes, sopping them no matter where he may find himself. Turns out his parents picked him up at the airport and are delivering him to a rehab facility, the best in the country.

He is inexplicably shitty. Not just covered in vomit, and later his own poo, but because he has no interest in getting better. He is shit, just totally burned out from crack and alcohol and glue and gas and anything else. I was almost disappointed at the things he has left out that could have also worked to get him high. Like Pledge. Or fingernail polish.

He is also told that he is in such horrible shape, and his body is rejecting sobriety through withdrawals so vehemently, that he will literally die the next time he hits the crackpipe. Pretty damn sure, at least. Sure enough to say that if he goes out into the world he will be dead within days. And as if this weren't shit enough, he has to get a couple fillings and root canals because he has not exactly taken care of his Chiclets during his stint as a Whitney Houston impersonator. The catch here is that because he is undergoing treatment for substance abuse, he has to do it without any help from anesthetics or pain killers. Having your ass-rapist shout “I'm going in dry!” behind your back comes to mind.

So that's him. But to counter all of this, he has a heroically awful, anti-hero personality. He is unequivocally fierce, with a stubbornness and temper that set up incomprehensible violence and cataclysmic meltdowns. His stubbornness is also so deeply rooted that he absolutely refuses, at all levels, anything to do with the Twelve Steps. “They won't work on me,” his mantra reminds his captors throughout. We need no reminding, because we get it the first fucking time he says it.

That is really one of the very few things I disliked about the book. The repetition. The repeating of word or words. Mostly word. Repetition. Repeating. Repetition. Repeating.

Repeating.

Repeating.

…

…

Repeating.

Repeating.

Repeating.

See how annoying that is? It happens, and happens often in this book. But I gritted past it. It wasn't “I'm going in dry!” level of unbearable.

The other thing I disliked was the bit about the Catholic Priest in the end. Seemed unnecessary. We get it, dude. You are a badass and no one messes with you. Especially when you were high. Got it. You don't have to lay down how tough you are or slip one in at the end about how nobody crosses you.

I really do feel like it completely matters not – as in zero part of me cares – whether this book is factual or a fictional biography. I do not think it affects the reader's experience of it one bit. I went in not caring and came out not caring, with no opinion on how much I would be affected if it is 99% true or 1% true. Point being, Oprah is a twat. I believe she believed everything she was reading was factual, then berated James Frey simply because its not being completely factual made her out to look a fool. Don't she know?

Make Room! Make Room! - Harry Harvey Harrold-Harrison

“SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOP – “ wait no, that was just the movie. A movie which is, admittedly, loosely based on the book. So there are no dead bodies floating their way through a factory coming out as green crackers of protein. Though I must confess, I was constantly examining the pages left until the end as I approached the climax of the book thinking “when is he going to follow his dead friend to the Soylent factory?” 

Though Charlton Heston is once again wonderful, perhaps more so when written as a character, this book is very different from the movie.  And different in a way that can still truly be appreciated. It is a detective novel in a dystopian, poverty-ridden, overpopulated, hungry world. A much less technologically advanced and shittier-outlook-on-life futuristic detective novel than, say, The Blade Runner. The universe is constructed well, much better than the sort of abstract android-assisted future in Blade Runner and certainly a much more believable future than the universe in Suzanne Collins’ The Hungry Games series. Both of those dystopias are very different, I get it, but the United States and, specifically, New York City in Make Room! Make Room! is so well constructed, probably because it focuses on a much more near-term crisis, only a couple generations out from when it written.

Another element I enjoyed is how it is set essentially in one small area, in Manhattan, in a single precinct of Manhattan virtually the entire book. The weight of the problems shared by the famished of the entire world seem to bear down harshly on the citizens of New York, and as overpopulation, hunger, and violent crime are main elements, NYC makes the perfect setting and there really is no need to stray from it; the city is expanse and populated enough to house a complete murder mystery novel in one individual precinct.

The relationship between Sol and detective Andy Rusch is also interesting, as is pretty much each relationship Rusch has. The dynamic of the two is so polarizing that it is almost comical, and because there are similar relationships with friends and family of mine, I did find it rather entertaining. Sol seems to have a wise man’s approach to the world’s problems: is a very level headed, rational thinker and backs up his philosophies with sound reasoning or, at worst, relevant experiences. He is willing to sacrifice himself and his goals to see that the world becomes a better place. Yet he does nothing to change the direction his path is taking or make his voice heard, until it is too late.

Andy, by comparison as well as contrast, will put up with nearly any injustice as long as he has a place to call home and a job that can help support a recurring source of food and water. He is very career-oriented, puts his job and his income above his personal happiness, will sacrifice his relationships to follow orders, and even when shit hits the fan and all signs point to him needing a change of scenery, he cannot let go of that steady job in such a great depression.

His relationship with Shirl is even more dynamic. Those two have issues, people in poverty and trying to be happy whilst still making sacrifices type issues. And when the man works so doggedly, so exhaustingly, and the woman has nothing to do but lament her past life as a playgirl, she tends to seek escape and sleep with other people. Happens in mining towns all the time. This instance was really very believable to me. 

The end of the book features very nasty breaks of Andy’s relationships, pretty much every link to him in the story either fades, escapes, or dies. He is all alone, but cannot let go of his fear of losing what he has to stand up for himself. And if we do not recognise that is what drives people to sacrifice their personal freedoms and liberties for the sake of economic or social security, then we have learned nothing.

Good book.

Lastly, as I was finishing this book, THIS was being hotly debated in my office. Not just its existence, the background of the nature of the research, the funding, but the implications and corporate supply/demand/marketing capitalistic flaws inherent with new technologies. I was excited for it, but humanity's, specifically capitalism's, track record with stuff like this is very poor (*cough* MONSANTO *cough cough*). 

The Song Of Roland

Roland. Brave, noble Roland. Count of Brittany. No, not that Roland. No, not that Roland, either. And certainly not the one these guys are referring to, though that’s a great song. As is this, by another renowned artist. Brother Roland in this instance is nephew to King Carlon; Holy Roman Emperor (the First!) Charles; French King Charlemagne. You understand now.

From the moment I began my study of the Dark Tower Series, which is ongoing, I knew Roland was a special character. From the fairy tales of Childe Rowland, we can surmise him to be an adventurous youth yet sturdy in the discipline of knighthood and battle and a representation of true chivalry, putting violence aside in the name of his opponent’s life for the reward of his family’s life.  In the Stephen King rendition, he is a gunslinger of incomparable skill. Peerless. His quest is somewhat mysterious (we know it is to reach the Dark Tower, but where I am, I still do not yet know why), yet remains entirely noble throughout. In the dark, ghastly poem of Robert Browning, Roland is as much a victim as a protagonist, and though his name and slughorn can be tied to The Song of Roland, his journey is more of a nightmare and what happens when he conquers his quest is never truly revealed.

Roland, in most of these settings, remains a tragic hero. In The Song of Roland, however, I get to nerd out on Medieval bravery and complete lack of fear, where battle is the prime source of gaining renown, and renown is how knights earn a living; and knights such as a Roland, whom enemies and hordes of Paynims (Pagans) are out to slay, look forward to epic battles, live or die, as a chance to firmly plant their name as honourable knights.

The plot is simple: Charlemagne’s war with the Spanish Paynims drags on, and as he would much prefer to return to France, he reaches a deal with their king, Marsilion. Carlon will cease warring in France, as only the city Saragossa still stands, to send a legate to Marsilion and ask for his baptism. His goal is to unite Europe in Christendom (entire sixth through seventeenth century historical spoiler alert!). As the last knights to deal with Marsilion on a diplomatic mission were executed, no one volunteers for the mission. Roland, bravest and boldest and favourite knight of Charlemagne, volunteers his step-father, Ganelon, also called Guénes. A man furiously jealous of the King’s love of Roland already, not to mention Roland’s skill in battle, is sent on this mission against his will. Spite, self-preservation, and jealousy weigh heavy on his mind.

Once arrived at the foot of Marsilion, Guénes makes his move and strikes his deal. Marsilion will be baptized, all of Spain will unite with Charlemagne under Christendom, but it must be done in France. Absurd riches of treasures from the Spanish king will help convince Charlemagne that it must be done under Marsilion’s simple stipulation: that it honour the Holy Roman Empire by being done on their soil. Ganelon adds that if he would wish to defeat Charlemagne, he could do so by defending his honour and slaying his step-son who sold him out to certain death by dealing with the same blood-thirsty Paynims he happens to be selling the deal to. Lo, you are an elitist salesman, Ganelon. It is not often one reads of an instance in which a diplomat visits a combatants kingdom and tells them “I was nominated to visit you against my will, under the apprehension that you filthy savages would gut me upon arrival, so let us strike a deal for the sake of revenge upon he who nominated me for this trip.” Entertaining treachery by Guénes, to say the least.

By the time the treasonous, traitorous, step-father to our hero has left, he has set up Roland’s certain death. As King Carlon leaves for home and resigns this war to peace, as part of Marsilion’s deal to be baptised within the Roman Empire, Roland will no doubt be on the Kings rearguard through the pass atop the Pyrenees. Ah, those dreadful Pyrenees.

Here, Roland is ambushed. The battle begins with only half the poem remaining. And the bloodshed that begins with the first strike is memorable. A confrontation by two eager knights from each side, the French spear penetrating the shield, armor, and hauberk (chain-mail) of the Spanish heathen and bursting his spine from the opposite side. A better way to declare that war is on, and battle renewed, I am at a loss for naming.

Roland the Indestructible fights with the Twelve Peers, Charlemagne’s best and favourite 12 knights. 10,000 strong of these valiant, noble French vassals and princes fight for the Twelve Peers against the hordes of Saracens, 150,000 total. Roland mentions to his friends, in the end, that his uncle Charlemagne may see them all dead upon his arrival of the battlefield, but he shall see no less than 15 dead Saracen for every Frank.

Roland’s stubbornness is part of the reason everything unfolds. In a truly beautiful display of the Medieval stubbornness that signified the onset of chivalric deeds, Roland refused to sound his Oliphant, a horn of elephant’s tusk (hence the name), to alert Charlemagne and the majority of the French army that they are under ambush. Not until nearly all are dead does Roland blow the horn, his temples bursting and blood pouring from his ears when he finally does, and much, much too late.

Of all the Christianity blowing the hell out of a good story and making the poem seem like Christian propaganda to expel the world of the evil that is the Muslim faith and its somehow perfect ally and equal, Paganism (there are historical instances I will not reference here that involve Pagans and Muslims teaming up against Christians, hence the view they are one and the same from the Christian perspective in this story), there is still a very epic Medieval story being told. And though it differs from some of the other majour Middle Ages epics I read and favour, there are some things that stand out that make me love this book. Not just Roland’s stubborn knighthood, either.

The characters, for example, are interesting. Not so complex as you would prefer in a modern day epic, but enough to appreciate. Of the Twelve Peers, three primarily are mentioned: Roland the Count of Brittany (obviously); his best and most loyal friend, and not to mention wise and level-headed Oliver; and the surprisingly crafty sword-wielding Archbishop Turpin, who slays many a Saracen. They all have their say in the course of the battle and it is very representative of their character, even if it goes against what the ultimate knight Count Roland has to advise. Conflict like this makes any story great, but seems to stand out in a story that takes place in a time where killing in the name of your king/god was always the best course of action.

Oliver is the primary dissenter when Roland refuses to sound his Olifant (a horn made of ivory) to alert Charlemagne they are being ambushed and outmanned 15:1; but when they commit themselves to fighting to the death for the glory of their Kingdom and God, Oliver slays well. And when they are down to a force of merely a few handfuls, still with hundreds of Saracens in front of them, Roland decides it is time to sound that horn. Time to let Charlemagne know the battle is lost, but the war can still be won by the Franks. Oliver, however, now dissents to its sounding, swapping the sides of the conflict, and his reasoning is just: You put it aside to spare your pride and assure us all we would fight in glorious battle, and now that death looms near you would fear what you have sentenced us to and use it to ask the King to come to our aid? Coward! He will not be here in time anyway, may as well fight to the death and die knowing you did not go back on your word.” (Not actual quotes, by the way).

His reasoning is sound. But Roland has another idea, which is to sound it and let Charlemagne come – knowing they will die before he arrives – to let him know that they died fighting Marsilion’s army and that he should avenge their death. This is how it happens. And the ambush at Roncesvillas ends with the death of every French soldier, knight, and prince. But Roland dies a hero’s death, not slain by any Saracen but instead dying of his own body giving out after such an exertion of inhuman strength. With nothing left, especially after blowing the Oliphant until his temples burst, he collapses and his soul is carried away by the angel Gabriel.

But soon enough, Carlon’s vengeance will return the favour and it is swift, vicious, and non-discriminant. The Emir of Babylon, Baligant, tries to catch Carlon off guard as the French spend the night with their fallen friends and give the Twelve Peers a proper burial together. The plan, as Ganelon had worked out for them, was that the French would be too shocked and too emotionally distraught to fight properly, is a complete failure. The French fight with a fire no one could have expected, and before too many can be slaughtered, Charlemagne and Baligant knock each other off their respective horses and square off in a sword fight. Once Baligant is slain, Saragossa falls soon after and Marsilion’s queen, for he dies also in attempt to flee, is taken back to France for a baptism.

Ganelon undergoes a trial, which seems a bit more civilized than I expected of such bloodthirsty and emotional wrecks of knights under the Holy Roman Emperor’s army. In this trial Ganelon convinces everyone that his vengeance was only to have Marsilion defend his honour by getting back at Roland for what he did to him by sending him out on the diplomatic mission, thought to be certain death at the time. Though we know this not to be the case, the court buys it. Until, that is, a young knight, Thierry, challenges the knight defending Ganelon, Pinabel, in judicial combat. It is the equivalent, in today’s sense, of the prosecuting attorney challenging the defense attorney to mortal combat. The idea is that God will empower the side that is right and grant him victory, which seems more representative of the times than that whole fair trial bullshit. Young Thierry, against all odds and physically outmatched, somehow defeats Pinabel. Ganelon, now proven guilty, is given death by four horses pulling him apart, which separate each arm and each leg in a gruesome public execution. As though this were not enough to heal the pain that ails the King and his army, thirty members of the court of Ganelon are hanged just in case they also have vindictive tendencies.

Truly Medieval, this epic: spectacular battles, violent and stubborn, with great mourning for the brave knights that fall but never a thought of relenting as death stares them down. No escape, but no desire to ever try. The thought of turning back is more vile and vulgar than being cut open, maimed, decapitated or any other gory death. That is part of the great life and honour-code of knights that I enjoy when reading stories of the Middle Ages. The exaggerations and emotional sensationalising that the story tellers added to it never bothers me, though this book has that as much if not more than any other I have read. Also, getting over the Christian element is difficult. It is usually added to Medieval stories almost as an afterthought, just to remind the readers (or listeners, when the story was first decreed) that the good guys are indeed going to heaven, the king does indeed rule by the grace of god, and the enemies are indeed heathens, infidels, Pagans, Saracens, or some other word for Muslims and/or Polytheists. It is very typical of the Middle Ages, but the Christian element is heavier in this one than in any other I have read. And it is placed in such a way that it does not always fit. Still, the debate amongst scholars rages on as to whether this was written as propaganda for the Crusades (as some Crusade terminology is used) or as a precursor to the Crusades, before Christians declared war on all those in the Holy Land.

Important as the Holy Roman Emperor is as a figure in human history, especially the first one in King Charlemagne, I will still, for my money, take a bold, battered war horse like Willehalm in his epic, who travels to see the Emperor in person and literally slaps the hell out of the Emperor’s wife, who happens to be Willehalm’s sister. Really beats the hell out of her whilst trying to beat sense into her. At times, picking her up off the ground by her hair so he can beat her some more. Great stuff from a veteran of the Crusades and former prisoner after capture before his escape with the central figure of that story.

But, as far as this poem is concerned, it is an important piece of literature undoubtedly. Referenced by nearly every other Medieval story after it, as well as stories involving knight errantry and brave warriors in later time periods (Don Quixote, for example), this story will always firmly retain its place in the upper pantheon of Middle Ages Epics. So if you happen to be into that sort of thing, like I am, then I say it is a must read.

Horns - Joe Hill

I was discussing this book with a friend before I was finished. A dangerous game, sure, but I am always sure to mention I am unfinished with it when I have such talks. And my friends are decent enough people not to ruin it with a devastating spoiler. But she told me she really loved this book, and I said “yeah, it’s pretty good. I mean, as far sex murderer stories are concerned.” She responded with “but it’s so much more than that!” and I honestly didn’t feel, at that point in the story, that it was. Well only a couple of chapters after thinking that horrible thought, there was a majour turning point in the book. I got hit like I’d insulted someone’s mother with a twist I didn’t expect. And not just a plot twist, but one that changes what you feel the story is really trying to convey. It was beautiful. I mean, tragic, and I wanted to cry or take shots or break something, or maybe do all that at the same time, but it was still a very moving moment in the book.

And it is in regards the most important topics with which one can concern his/her self: life, death, and love. Life is no guarantee, but once it is obtained it is your right to keep it, and let others keep theirs. Death can only come once life is granted, and will follow life where ever it may exist. Love, unfortunately, is no guarantee either, and the worst thing to think of is people who experience life until death but never get to experience, or exercise, their right to love. And dying before one can experience love is the greatest crime of all for humanity, in my opinion.

This book takes all of that and, instead of elaborating on it, concentrates it into one vicious strike to your heart. It happens all in one moment. One moment realized after the person everyone loved has been dead for some time. It is truly tragic but truly wonderful.  I really cannot stress that enough.

There is also a very King family influence, and much of the book can be looked at as being written by “Stephen King’s son”. There is that lovable, cynical charm and the dirty, nasty secrets everyone holds within with hidden evil, dark desires that mostly revolve around sex or violence, or violent sex.

But even with that, he is still a unique author, and the book is great on its own, regardless of the fact that you might think, at many different points, it seems like something written by a young Stephen King. “Huh, I could imagine a universe in which the guy that wrote The Dead Zone also wrote this book” I said to myself on more than one occasion. Like, for example, when he touches someone and knows everything about them.

I did find a few faults with the book, I think the plotline of illness making people turn into real assholes is a common enough issue that he may write about it, but not so common that it is on the level of common knowledge that everyone turns into a wicked person when they are ill. I also felt there was some really good irony when he had his horns and people were coming out with these horrible secrets, but sometimes they would act upon their desires with the removal all inhibitions (the true effect of his horns) but there was never any follow-up as to what resulted from people making good on their horrible actions.

Really look forward to more from Joe Hill though. This story had a very “early stages of a great author” feel too it, not a perfect but still very good, and I hope he only improves with time. But then again, he is Stephen King’s son, so who the hell knows.

Pavane

Geez a month since I last blogged here, what the fuck has been up? Oh yeah, illness, work, travel and holidays. Sorry folks. Enjoy my review of this one though, I loved this book.

Keith Roberts wrote Pavane in 1968 as an alternate history if Queen Elizabeth was assassinated before England’s big battle with Spain and the Spanish Armada won; hence the Catholic Church ruled, Protestantism never began; hence technological developments and indeed all progression of human development was done only with the oversight of the Church. Need I say more?

It is a collection of short stories, or a novel told in small parts, all of which intertwine of course and have a few common denominators: the power of the Church, stunted technological growth (i.e. no electricity), the mechanical wooden semaphore towers and their Guild, feudal system, and the family of Eli Strange and his hauliers business of steam engine hauling cars.

I had no idea what a steam engine car looked like either. Makes sense though.

The Catholic Church being the sole source of knowledge, progress and science in a much less than preferred society was very reminiscent of one of my all-time favourite books: A Canticle for Leibowitz. It’s Dark Ages, monks abound and people fight and torment themselves in a helpless, hopeless, heart-wrenching quest for progress. Sad, but the empathy seems to come easy for characters fighting these fights.

The rebellion is also a thrilling factor. Or should I say, the Rebellion, as you seemingly cannot find anything about this book without someone quoting the first page’s brilliance:

"Over all, the long arm of the Popes reached out to punish and reward; the Church Militant remained supreme. But by the middle of the twentieth century widespread mutterings were making themselves heard. Rebellion was once more in the air . . ."

Brother John, who when I read this immediately thought of my new musical hero Father John Misty, is a monk tasked with witnessing and transcribing the acts of punishment to witches conducted by the contemporary equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition, referred to in this book simply as the Inquisition.  The torture scenes, for that is what they really are, become almost too much to bare, and are more violent and obscene than just about anything I have read lately, including 200 pages of Cormac McCarthy’s masturbation material, but is over and done with fairly quickly (maybe 3 pages) and helps shape Brother John into one of the most powerful, demented (yet not quite powerfully demented) heretics I have ever come to know in the world of books.

There is really nothing more fascinating to me than human beings behaving like non-human beings. It’s really a something I could study the rest of my life. Holy wars, for example. Totally awful behavior. But torturing people who speak out against your beliefs, or either just do not believe, quite innocently, or simply do not believe hard enough. That takes it to a whole new level. Incredibly awful stuff, and Roberts conveys it in a very meaningful way. Violent, yes, but not so much that you lose your lunch and have another 100 pages of baby impalement to get through after ten hours of stomach churning gore. Do I sound like I’m still bitter about Blood Meridian? Good.

The book also incorporates a feudal war. As a bit of a nerd for Medieval Epics and some of the stories of Middle English/Middle Germanic Kings and Queens – some of whom I still tell friends of whenever drunkenly possible – I really enjoyed the second to last story titled “Lords and Ladies.” It was the best for me, as the aristocratic governess, once again tying into the Strange family as she is the grand-niece of the main character of the first story, defies the orders of the Holy Roman Emperor and a war ensues with the Catholic Church as she tries to defend her people. The woman holding down the castle as the greatest army assembled on Earth has her entire land under siege was very much like one of my all-time favourite Germanic Medieval epics, Willehalm, and had perhaps an even more charming ending.

Really wish I had more to say without spoiling anything, but definitely pick up a copy of this book, or ebook it or audio it some way. Just....give it a go, it is great.