Friday, June 03, 2005

Book Club!

Why nobody anyone write good no more?

If I open any music magazine, actually, any magazine (but especially the music ones), I’m forced to endure the kind of sterile, cookie-cutter, “zeigeisty” journalistic ipecac that has NO distinctiveness, NO ideas, NO soul and NO identifiable reason for why I should be spending my heard-earned cash on it. It makes me sick.

Let’s make a broad statement: It is filthy discharge. Lazy, half-assed nonentities are getting paid for this. And I’m not.

New books blow big chunks too. Nick Laird? Have you read this torpid, flaccid little man’s jizzlobbing literary attempts?

Anyway- marginally aimless diatribes aside- welcome to a new Beard online feature: “BOOK WHAT WE THINK IS GOOD SO GO TO SHOP OR LIBRARY AND GET HANDS ON POST-HASTE.” It’s a working title you understand. This week:


Yes, it’s a compilation, but it’s a fucking good one. Big Gay Truman knew how to write and anyone with a passing interest in journalism, literature, or virtuosity should get this NOW.

Thank you for your time. Tune in for next week’s selection.

1 comment:

Stewart said...

Funnily enough, I was reading some of this the other night. House On The Heights is a fantastic essay. I wonder if the Brooklyn Heights are still like that, full of superior junk shops, mad old aristocratic widows who take in stray cats and friendly sailors who offer cups of "the blackest java" (I'm sure that's not all they offered young Truman...)
The Muses Are Heard, TC's account of touring with a mixed race opera company in the Soviet Union is one of the greatest pieces of non-fiction I've read, while his character sketch of Marylin Monroe is full of astonishing revelations, while still giving a genuine sense of her personality.
I also adore (hell, it's the kind of word he'd use) his story about accompanying his Mexican cleaning lady on her rounds, smoking fine grass, raiding fridges for chocolate cake, and contending with a Yiddish parrot.
Oh, and his preface to Music For Chameleons, also contained in the Reader, is one of the most inspiring pieces about the craft and spirit that lies behind his writing.