The kind of book you'll like strictly if you're into that thing. This was out of my wheelhouse, but in my opinion, the only reason it works is becauseThe kind of book you'll like strictly if you're into that thing. This was out of my wheelhouse, but in my opinion, the only reason it works is because des Barres writes with such distinctive style and doesn't take herself or her story too seriously at all. The sixties was an iconic era with iconic music - and a whole lot of flakiness, especially when it came to rock and groupie culture. It wasn't just the women who were flaky either. In my opinion, that was an all-around syndrome that pretty much everyone on that scene suffered from, but it made for good stories and good music.
As someone who was born and raised in the digital age, it seems pretty absurd to me that you could stalk rockstars and actually gain success from it - the Marlon Brando story had me laughing out loud. But Pamela des Barres captures the hedonism, excitement, and general newness of that era really well. It's engaging, silly, funny, and very sensual. Half the men she mentions should be locked away (and Dave Navarro as well for that weird, sexist introduction), but it's pretty fun romp, and the diary entries are a great touch. It only works because she's a good writer, and she writes without any inhibitions or need to seem above-it-all. She knows that a true groupie isn't. I like that she points out (in her 2005 addition) the new groupie culture has shifted into actresses and models pretending they're not groupies. There's something to be said for a culture of adoration that doesn't pretend they're not fawning and swooning. In this irony-poisoned, cynical age, while I might not yearn to be part of this drugged-out, blissful scene, there's definitely something to be said for the sheer earnestness of the rock world back then. ...more
This is a bittersweet moment, because this is the last of Baldwin's written works that I've read. There are certainly some essays out there that I havThis is a bittersweet moment, because this is the last of Baldwin's written works that I've read. There are certainly some essays out there that I haven't read yet, plenty of interviews to watch, and his screenplay about Malcolm X (I want to read the autobiography first).
I say this after each Baldwin novel, but this is maybe my favorite. Baldwin maintains the belief here that regardless of race, gender, sexuality, success, or marital status, life is filled with unbearable anguish for everyone -- no one gets out unscathed. It is almost impossible to face the burden of being alive, regardless of circumstance, and changing situation cannot alter this fundamental truth. Good intentions, he implies here, are not actually enough, not to save or protect anyone, and not even to save or protect yourself.
And yet, this novel isn't cynical or misanthropic. His works are somehow life-affirming because they believe in the power of truth, confrontation, and love. Love itself is rarely enough, a character says near the end of the novel. And no one can really save you from loneliness. All you can do is love each other and be each other's witness. In the world of Baldwin, this is not nothing. Just because we cannot save each other does not mean we do not need each other. His work is really painful, but undeniably beautiful. I'm so grateful for his writing. I'm gonna give Giovanni's Room and Go Tell It on the Mountain a reread, and the close out with Eddie Glaude Jr's Begin Again....more
![The Fiddler in the Subway( The True Story of What Happened When a World-Class Violinist Played for Handouts... and Other Virtuoso Performances by)[FIDDLER IN THE SUBWAY][Paperback]](https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1696363836l/157437145._SY75_.jpg)
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