Unfinished Books, Dylan and Barrett

Tuesday September 12, 2006

So many books have been left unfinished this year. Still in my rucksack or gathering dust around the house are:

Forgive me, but I could barely start:

The Kite Runner: Khaled Hosseini

Stuart A Life Backwards: Alexander Masters

Got about halfway through but couldn’t go on any more:

On Beauty: Zadie Smith

The Kid Stays in the Picture: Robert Evans

Brick Lane: Monica Ali (Come to think of it, this was last year, but it’s still lying around hopefully poised, with its bookmark poking out at me and waving).

Oh yes, and a third category:

Finished, but what a blinking struggle:

Arthur and George: Julian Barnes

Have you ever got to about seventy pages from the end of a book and wished “end, please why don’t you just end?” If you haven’t and want to, this is the one for you.

The Sea: John Banville

This won the Booker prize. I read it on holiday. It isn’t holiday reading.

And this is where this post really starts:

Chronicles: Bob Dylan

I like Dylan but I don’t subscribe to the Dylan obsession. What’s the Dylan obsession? I think a friend of mine suffers from it, as he appeared to be beset by minor tremors and muscle spasms when I confessed to not enjoying ‘Chronicles’. You risk a punch, or at least a jolly good shaking, when you criticize Mr Zimmerman to a Dylan obsessive.

I’m going to stick my head out here and say that I thought this was one of the most overrated books I’ve read in years. I don’t want to read a full account of the obscure 1987 album he recorded, or how he has spent half of his career trying not to be Bob Dylan. Come off it, he becomes more like Bob Dylan with every passing day.

Perhaps I was disappointed because I was interested in finding out what made the man tick, but then felt let down when I saw this ticking mechanism taking place. And to be honest, I think I read this too soon after watching the ‘No Direction Home’ documentary and then rediscovering all of my old Dylan albums. I think I’ve just done too much Dylan.

But I have enjoyed:

The Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs: Irvine Welsh

The Planets: Dava Sobel

Madcap (Syd Barrett biography): Tim Willis

I’ve mentioned Syd Barrett a few times now on this website but I am not a Barrett obsessive. What’s a Barrett obsessive? Tim Willis is a Barrett obsessive. In this book he attempts to debunk the Syd myth but ends up enriching it even more. He does this by examining Barrett’s lyrics in great detail, comparing him as only second to Lennon in creativity (he’s right with this one perhaps), exploring the Lazarus comparison as far as it can go and ultimately hounding the man himself (the book was written in 2002).

I recommend this book to fans of Syd or to anyone interested in finding out a clearer picture as to what went wrong, but does the author have to turn up on the poor bloke’s doorstep? And then make too much out of their very brief encounter? Syd opening the door in his underpants, shutting the door in his biographer’s face and later ignoring him when tending to his garden does not a lunatic or a genius make. But read and judge for yourself.

Note to self: calm down, maybe join a book group.

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