Book Review: Knockemstiff

As a reader, I’m more drawn to stories that challenge and disturb our way of thinking about the “normal” world. There’s just something about examining the aspects of our lives that no one wants to discuss that appeals to me. That being said, my tolerance for what is “too far” in books is pretty high.

My next book selection was Donald Ray Pollock’s Knockemstiff, a collection of short stories about the town of Knockemstiff, Ohio and its colorful (to say the least) characters. And to say that it fits the qualities of a subversive, dark, challenging novel would be an understatement. The stories range from disturbing to strange, presenting a cast of characters that are searching for redemption, revenge, or answers.

Donald Ray Pollock’s Knockemstiff has many of the similar qualities that a large amount of dark novels have, but it lacks what many other books in its genre have: a purpose behind its subversiveness. That’s what is so intriguing about books like American Psycho, Fight Club, A Clockwork Orange, It, etc. Even though these books were tough to read at certain points, there was a reason behind it, a deeper meaning that offered solace or explanation for the reader. American Psycho used violence to inform us of the problem of self-image and consumerism in New York. Fight Club used violence and subversive behavior as a means to find purpose in one’s life and achieve self-enlightenment. Knockemstiff uses all the tools of dark writing to ask questions, but provides no answers or explanation. Now, granted, I understand that an author’s purpose may very well be to present absolutely no answers for the characters’ predicaments. But these stories in Knockemstiff are so heavy-handed and try to push us so far that Pollock’s presentation of this town is less like a reminder to make something of our lives and more of an annoying poke on the shoulder.

Perhaps the difficulty in expecting Pollock to tell us something of importance lies in the fact that this is a collection of short stories. But if we can garner no meaning other than “Bad things will always happen to these characters and they’ll only stay the same or get worse” story after story, there needs to be some work on Pollock’s end.

This is not to say that Pollock is a bad writer. His stories are definitely memorable, and his imagery is exceptional. Having never lived in a town like Knockemstiff, I can get an exact sense of what it’s like to live there. It’s a place where the beer is always warm, the winters are bitter cold, and the summers are suffocating. As a reader, you’re never truly comfortable with any of the stories he’s telling. There’s always something…off, whether it’s the characters or setting. What starts off as “normal” is always uneasy. There are some great stories here, most notably “Real Life” and “Hair’s Fate,” and Pollock succeeds in giving us effective glimpses at everyones’ lives, even for 10-15 pages. Another interesting aspect of this collection is the appearance of previous characters in later stories. I found myself intrigued when I spotted them, but their appearance served no purpose other than, “Hey, the guy that [insert disturbing behavior] a few chapters ago is there.”

You can always expect there to be some sort of violent act story by story, and many characters are either dying or experience death in some regard. As a small critique on Pollock’s writing, while these stories are told by completely different narrators, most of them have the same narrative voice and storytelling structure. My biggest critique, and feel free to dispute this with me, is that there are no redeeming stories here. No feel-good aspects. It is dreary all the time in Knockemstiff, Ohio, and nothing will change. As I said before, I don’t expect a book to always have a happy ending – American Psycho wasn’t exactly an “upper.” But this collection of short stories is like beating a dead horse (which I could believe one of the characters would do). I found myself forcing myself to read the stories and becoming annoyed, because I more or less could guess what would be happening: Set up, insult to self-image, drug use or violence, attempts to improve situation, failure, mostly negative change, end.

Knockemstiff contains well-written stories with fantastic imagery, but similar story structures and obligatory depressing moods. Pollock’s message, articulated throughout the stories, is said best by one of his characters: “It’ll be over soon.” Funny, I was thinking the same thing reading the book.

 

Give This A Listen…

Today’s selection: The Tallest Man On Earth

Sounds Like: Bob Dylan and Nick Drake had a lovechild. In Sweden.

Best Songs: The Gardener, King of Spain, Love Is All, I Won’t Be Found, Honey Won’t You Let Me In

Why You Might Not Like It: Vague lyrics, nasally voice, one-dimensional sound

Why You Should Give Him A Shot: Poetic lyrics, Outstanding guitar skills, beautiful simplicity, ability to pull off a ‘stache

The Tallest Man On Earth (real name Kristian Matsson) is quite possibly one of the fastest rising and most intriguing indie (if you really want to call him that) artists around today. Hailing from Sweden, Matsson brings a true folk sound to a musical landscape rife with auto-tuned pop and studio trickery. His recordings are bare, but not empty. His overdubs are minimal and barely noticeable. His voice is gravelly and emotional. Basically, this guy has something to say, and he hits you like a musical gut-check.

Musically, Matsson is a proficient guitar, banjo, and piano player. While a few songs on his CDs and EPs feature the piano (Kids On The Run, Like The Wheel), his true mastery comes with the guitar in his hand. Much like Nick Drake, Matsson rarely plays in standard tuning, relying instead on open and creative tunings to provide the musical backdrop. While he may not be doing crazy folk-shredding on the fingerboard (open tunings put less emphasis on complicated fingerings in favor of more ambient music), Matsson is a precise and inventive fingerstyle guitarist. Combine this with being able to sing his heart out at the same time, and you have a rare gem in the music industry.

Matsson’s lyrics are, well, difficult. Are they difficult because they make no sense? Or are they difficult because it forces the listener to paint the picture he’s giving us, to reflect, and to look at the song as a whole? I would say the latter. His lyrics are often dreamlike and whimsical, dealing more in hyperbole and combinations of images rather than being straightforward. Understanding his lyrics are like a puzzle – once you finally solve it, you feel like you’ve unearthed something extraordinary.

Comparisons to Dylan are rampant and expected, and while Matsson has a very similar voice (which may turn some people off), his style, musical choices, and stage presence puts him on a level that’s all to himself. My one recommendation would be to listen to his voice live first: his albums have a much more Dylan-esque vibe than his live performances. An outstanding hour and a half long performance of his is available for free download on NPR’s Live Concert Series podcast through iTunes. I highly recommend you check it out.

Before I provide some links for your viewing and listening pleasure, I will say something I’ll say with every Give This A Listen… entry: Give it a chance. Take a few listens, and see how you feel afterwards. His voice is unusual but accessible; you might grow to like it. And if listening to a few songs doesn’t change anything, well then thanks for taking the time to read the article. Without further ado, I present The Tallest Man On Earth.

 

 

Have any other recommendations? Any bands you’d like to be featured? Leave a message below.

 

 

Book Review: Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse

Now, before you start judging me, let me just say this. This book is NOT just about go-go clubs and violence. Don’t make me out for some cheap thrill, manic-minute speed freak. I repeat, this book is NOT just about go-go clubs and violence. It’s about go-go clubs, violence, cannibals, marriage, nuclear war, bodily fluids, blimps, cowboys, and MINI Coopers with mounted machine guns.

I think that about covers it.

I first heard about Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse through npr.org’s “Three Books” column (which is a pretty interesting idea – if you want extremely specific book ideas for you, make sure you check it out). I saw a link for “Three Books To Help You Enjoy The Apocalypse,” and I thought, well, why not?

A quick trip to the library and there it was, sitting there, challenging me to check it out. I had my doubts, but a mention of Quentin Tarantino on the front cover erased all doubt for me.

The book centers around Mortimer Tate, who has spent the past nine years living in some modified cave/bunker/olly olly oxen free hideout in the South while the nuclear apocalypse is raging outside. When he finds three men wandering outside his Man Cave (literally a cave, not some basement with a recliner and a flat screen) he does two things:

1. Kills them.

2. Decides he wants to see what the world is like.

From then on, let’s just simplify the story and say this: A lot of weird, gross, entertaining stuff happens, he lives in a world where go-go clubs are the new centers of commerce, and needs to go to Atlanta to fulfill a promise and save humanity from destroying itself.

The Good:

Even though I love Steinbeck, Faulkner, Orwell, Eliot, Huxley, Dickens, etc., and respect a pristinely crafted and executed classic, sometimes I wanna see crap blown up. The book provides that in large amounts. It’s fast-paced, gritty, and makes you keep reading. I’m normally a slow reader, but within about two to three days I had finished it. This type of writing may be “beneath” some people, but come on, Ernest Hemingway probably enjoyed a shoot-em-up every now and then. The cover also makes a connection to Christopher Moore, who I think is one of the funniest writers today, and Gischler is basically Moore with a steroid boost. It takes a while to get used to the tone of the novel, because Gischler routinely takes dark, normally Stephen King-esque horror ideas and makes them funny. The last act of the book was the most humorous, especially with Ted, the local mountain man for hire (yes, you heard me right). The cover was correct: If you want funny, sardonic views of humanity with over-the-top Kill Bill violence, then look no further.

The Bad:

I’m going to be honest, even though the writing kept me flipping the pages, that doesn’t mean it was good by any stretch. Most of the dialogue and events serve to propel the plot more than give us an idea of the landscape or what drives the characters. Gischler gives us a comic book look at the world, giving us brief clips of plot, laying out the darkness of the surrounding areas with the neon-drenched lights of the “city” and wants us to fill in the blanks. I also think that at times Gischler wanted so many outlandish things to happen (but his protagonist to survive them all) that all the “escapes” were too coincidental and forced. For a post-apocalyptic world where everyone owns guns in a “kill or be killed” lifestyle, Tate seems to talk his way out of a lot of problems, or have a miraculous rescue just in the nick of time.

The Verdict

Go-Go Girls of the Apocalypse moves fast, shoots fast, and ends fast. If an expertly written novel is your thing, then you probably won’t find anything special here. But if you want to put down the Marcel Proust for a second and laugh, cringe, and enjoy a pulp novel at its finest, this is one of the better ones on the market.

Oh, and there’s an eight foot tall guy with his teeth shaved into points. Forgot to mention that.

Was this post helpful? Funny? Informative? Cringe-inducing? Feel free to comment or post below.

 

Everybody all together now! Off the cliff!

Ever since Rant came out, I’ve been a big fan of Chuck Palahniuk. After burning through the book at record speed I went back, bought all of his books written before Rant, read them, and for the most part enjoyed them. Like a loyal follower, I subscribed to his website, checked frequently for tour dates, wanted the latest information on what Palahniuk was working on next, what his birthday was, where he lived, what he thought of the movie version of Fight Club, basically all the way down to whether he liked skim or 2% better.

Slowly but surely, I realized that anything this author put out was mine. I was addicted. I was a fan. Then, Snuff came out.

I thought it was good, definitely weird, but it was good. Kind of short, though. And I saw the twist coming a mile away. And the ending wasn’t what I had come to expect. But it was Chuck! Surely he wouldn’t lead me astray! So, I put the blinders back on.

Then, Pygmy came out. Stylistically strong, Palahniuk brought a new writing style to the forefront by telling a story in broken English. But the twist and ending were…stupid. Not even ironic. I wasn’t expecting it to be, but it seemed like he was grasping for straws at how to end the story. I was happy to get an autographed book, but this definitely was a “get from the library before buying” regret.

I didn’t even buy his next book, Tell-All. Still haven’t. As a matter of fact, I read the first three pages and returned it to the library. It just wasn’t doing anything for me anymore. Was I not a fan anymore? I would say no, I was still a fan…but there were some misgivings about some of his recent work.

The other day, I happened to come across this video, which put a lot of things into perspective:

Ding ding ding, we have a winner.

My friend and I were discussing how some bands (Radiohead, for example) have massive followings, even – dare I say – “cult” followings. Bands so popular that no matter what they put out, people will buy it, regardless of if they’ve listened to it and made a judgment call on it.

I understand that some music, movies, and books need to be given time to work into your mind (Thank you, David Lynch), but when does something being “different,” as is the case with many of Radiohead’s albums, translate into someone actually enjoying it? Do I like Radiohead? Yes. (And this article is about more than just them, believe me – I’m just using them as an example.) But in case you didn’t feel that eruption about a month ago, Radiohead’s King of Limbs was released. Have I listened to King of Limbs front to back? No. Do I think it’s weird? In spots. Does that mean it’s good and I find genuine enjoyment from listening to it? Not necessarily.

I tend to give things (especially music) a chance to change my mind, because I’d like to think my tastes are eclectic. Do I listen to things now that I thought I wouldn’t have anything to do with two years ago? Yup. Do I think I’ll ever say, “Man, I need to run to the grocery store. Better sync up some Kid A to make my trip enjoyable?” Eh. Debatable.

What I mean is this: Are we buying and truly enjoying things that artists put out because we have decided we like the material? Or are we doing our fan duty and buying it just because their names are stamped on something they made?

Basically, are we critical of our heroes anymore? (Ooh, dramatic.)

Feel free to comment below.