I’ve been reading a lot lately, although still not as much as I used to or want to. First, a novel called He’s Gone by Deb Caletti. It was a good little mystery tale. Woman wakes up on her houseboat the morning after a party where she and her husband had a fight. Husband is gone. Vanished without a trace. The story is about their relationship, why she thinks he may have left, etc. Two things I didn’t like about it: it was told in the first person, present tense.
That’s my least favorite style of narration. I find it distracting and unnatural. It’s the most heavy handed of styles, the author never gets out of the way to let the reader into the story.
It seems to be a very popular style these days.
Boo.
The second thing I didn’t like about the story was the conclusion. Did I mention she lived on a houseboat?
Exactly.
Second book I read was Life by Keith Richards. Far and away the best autobiography I’ve ever read. If you like autobiographies, if you like the Rolling Stones, if you like Rock n’ Roll, if you like the second half of the twentieth century, if you like tales of romance, drug abuse, adventure, heartbreak, friendship and success, you’ll enjoy this book.
Mr. Richards claims he forgot nothing and the book sure seems to hit on everything. I kept in mind that he was a raging heroin addict for about ten years so some of his recollections may be…influenced. What is impressive is how honest he is about all of it. He pulls no punches, especially when they hit him in the face.
The book is not just a list of accomplishments and the musical aspect of it is so much more than the Rolling Stones that it’s actually easy to ignore that while all the things he describes were happening, he was the guitarist in the iconic band. He can write (and I imagine, talk) about music for hours. He loves all kinds of music and admires all kinds of musicians.
I’m not a Rolling Stones fan. They’ve been doing it for most of my life so naturally there are a lot of songs that I like but I’ve never bought an album and I’ve never had any interest in seeing them in concert. Doesn’t matter; Keith tells his story in such an entertaining way that I’d have enjoyed the book even if I’d never heard of the Rolling Stones.
He writes very candidly about his misadventures and his description of what it’s like to lose a child to crib death are painful. He says you never get over the pain of it; you just learn to live with it. He went on tour right after the boy was born, so he never even got a chance to know him. He says he’ll never forgive himself for that. He also says that even though the boy died over thirty years ago (forty, now) he still runs into him at least once a week; he’ll be minding his own business and suddenly be confronted by the hole in his life where his son was supposed to be.
My favorite passage in the whole book was a paragraph where he talks about what music does for him.
“Levitation is probably the closest analogy to what I feel. Whether it’s ‘Jumpin’ Jack’ or ‘Satisfaction’ or ‘All Down the Line’, when I realize I’ve hit the right tempo and the band’s behind me. It’s like taking off in a Learjet. I have no sense that my feet are touching the ground. I’m elevated to this other space. People say ‘why don’t you give it up?’ I can’t retire until I croak. I don’t think they quite understand what I get out of this. I’m not doing it just for the money or for you. I’m doing it for me.”
I know what he means.
I totally feel like I could hang out with Keith Richards but reading his book lead me to the conclusion that Charlie Watts is by far the coolest member of the Stones. Hands down, no contest.
The third book I recently read was another murder mystery called The Ice Cream Girls by Dorothy Koomson. It is also told in the first person, present tense. By two different characters. The tense changes, depending on whether we’re in the present or flashback. It’s a lurid little tale of seduction, abuse and murder.
The victim was a teacher who preyed on young, inexperienced girls. After years of abusing both girls in every way; sexually, emotionally, physically, he is found stabbed to death. Two girls, one convicted of the crime, both convinced the other is guilty.
My big objection to the story is that twenty years later, both girls agree that as horrible as he was to them, he didn’t deserve to die. I disagree.
I think an adult who becomes a teacher in order to stalk, manipulate and seduce children in order to make them his sex slaves whom he threatens, rapes and beats so severely that bones are broken absolutely deserves to be stabbed to death. The problem isn’t whether he deserved it, it’s that no one had the right to mete out such punishment.
The last chapter does reveal what happened and who the culprit was. I believe she slept like a baby every night for the rest of her life.