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Title: Smile, You're Traveling (Black Coffee Blues Part 3) by Henry Rollins ISBN: 1-880985-69-1 Publisher: Two Thirteen Sixty-One Pubns Pub. Date: 01 October, 2000 Format: Paperback Volumes: 1 List Price(USD): $15.00 |
Average Customer Rating: 4.06 (17 reviews)
Rating: 4
Summary: At times a downer, but still interesting
Comment: Mind you, I am hesitant in my criticism -- one would be hesitant in criticizing Rollins about anything after reading this book. These journal entries, from '97 to '98, have a lot to say about the meaningless and mean (yeah, mean) "criticism" our man Rollins has had to endure since his beginnings with Black Flag, and it makes you inclined to shy away from adding to that dung heap more out of pity than defense. However, Rollins does leave himself open, especially if he's printing his journals for public consumption, so hey, fair is fair, right?
These entries show us that Rollins is growing up...er, well, at least he's trying. And hard. He's scored huge brownie points for not throwing us the "I'm an impenetrable mystery" shlick that most utterly self-absorbed persons do, which leads me to believe he's is doing sincerely what he claims: trying to figure himself out before he dies. Good luck, Hank, you're gonna need it. On the other hand, his full-throttle musings in the "lone man wandering the vast desert" vein (he even drags in dear, dead Hemingway for reference) in defense of his burdensome loneliness and incapacity for relationships with women get irksome, as it is quite transparent. He fiercely avows never to marry or have kids to the extent that one hears a voice from the wings: "Hank doth protests too much, methinks." At these points in the book, Rollins is little more than a case study in avoidant-ambivalent attachment style, and it gets depressing after a while. This is especially so due to his frequent mentioning of difficult bouts of depression and loneliness.
There are enjoyable points, don't get me wrong. He does express well and clearly his great affection for music, from his youthful giddiness over Black Sabbath to his near-mystical adoration for jazz and its decorated heroes like John Coltrane. Wonder why Rollins is so lippy towards musicians that don't meet his approval? The reason is made clear here: He loves music. He really LOVES music. And like anyone with some sense and a heart, he abhors witnessing the thing he loves most being kicked about in the dirt by low-wit thugs or parceled out indifferently by agenda-serving leeches. There's no shame in that, even though oddly many think Rollins ought to be shamed. So in the end, we find Rollins digging in his heels and U2 and Sheryl Crow supporters whining and sniffling. Hysterical, really. The other thing that is enjoyable about this book is the evidence that Rollins does things with very good intentions. Sometimes he doesn't make the best choices and other times he is overcome by his own shortcomings. But while he exhibits a tense bitterness edging towards cynicism, he doesn't mean to be mean. Good example is his regret over his defensive hostility towards to two fans that approached him at an inopportune time in a parking lot in Ohio, and his small, but thoughtful gesture to make amends for it. It's things like these that make this book an interesting read.
Yet among other frustrating bits is his agitation that results from a combination of his poor social skills and his inability to cope with himself. Some of this gets aimed at innocent by-standers, which gets painful to read at times. Otherwise, it's leveled, deservingly, at the music industry. However, since Rollins is honest enough to see some pretty hard truths about life, he eventually (we can only hope) will realize and accept that he must walk a different path apart from a majority of the human race, and that's not something he needs to be hostile about. He longs still, nearly forty, to be understood, and one is inspired to awe at how hard he will work and how far he will go for that. At the same time, he succeeds well at grating your nerves to point you want to shove some of his own witty snideness right back down his throat. When that happens, just flip to some point where he's describing as eloquently as he can a moment of thoughtful meditation or some time in solitude, where you can see that he's actually a decent man once he's in his element. Yeah, you read me right, the "Hot Animal Machine" is a thinking man after all. Hooray, or something.
The thing with Rollins is that his major talent is not writing or music, but simply being honest and "putting it out there." He's on the verge of making his truthfulness an art form. You get out of him what you do, and that's that. No apologies. I, for one, can dig that. Maybe you can too, but one observation should be made. The printing I have contains a multitude of typos. Hopefully this will be corrected if it goes to print again. Another thing is that there is a section of '97 entries tagged on the end, in a section after the '98 entries, with no explanation. Strange. But rather than leaving us with heartaching thoughts at the year-end anniversary of his friend's senseless and tragic death, he lets us off the train somewhere in October, a "magical" month for him he says, with the line "I have a good life." Now that's keeping your chin up, Hank.
Rating: 5
Summary: short review
Comment: I think this is Rollins' best book so far. It is great to see how his writing has matured since Get in the Van or even Black Coffee Blues. It's like reading a cross between Jack Kerouac and Nietzsche. A wonderful travel journal, that is as much a journey of the mind as it is a journey of the world. A peek into a mind with focused attention, spiraling depressions, and burning aggressions. He has a deep misanthropy, because he likes people, and people do stupid things. He sees how people either don't think or simply pretend to think, rather than actually doing it. It's more evident here than in any of his other works. After reading this book, I listened to "Come In And Burn" again, and heard it in a whole new way.
This is a great book, and even better after reading the first two books in the BCB trilogy!
Rating: 5
Summary: Henry brings you the world.
Comment: It's funny how people in the western world have become so thoroughly accustomed to fakes. People without the mental energy to take that small leap to reality are shocked that they've actually purchased a book off the modern shelves written by someone willing to be completely human in his prose. Readers not smart enough to realize how attuned they've become to charlatans whine that there are "contradictions," even "hypocrisies" in the text. Almost every other nonfiction book about a person's life or actions, biographical or autobiographical, provides a one-dimensional, public-validated, fake version of the subject. So a REAL human comes off as "contradictory" for those who can't escape their media training.
How would those critics hold up if they were to keep a journal and be completely, brutally honest about what they were feeling and how they saw the world? There would be much LESS consistency than in Henry's fantastic books about seeing places that most of his readers will never get to see. Humans feel both good and bad. Yin and yang, babydoll. I'd highly suspect anyone trying to come off real who DOESN'T display a few double standards. That's the way we all are. I sure am -- and so are you. Awesome days alternate with utter travesties. Henry pulls no punches, and he doesn't lie to his journal. It's addictive, fascinating, warm, funny and galvanizing to read about where our collective friend has been and what he thinks. He happens to be superintelligent and he has a perspective based on experiences at the top of the mountain alternating with being burnt in the lava inside the cone.
No hypocrisies...just a human being, willing to let it all hang out and show his readers why they should realize, every day, that they're ALIVE.
Thanks again, Henry. For everything. For the fantastic books, for the wonderful Black Flag tribute album in support of the WM3, for all the hard work you do. It's inspiring and exactly what some of these feeble minds need.
ALSO RECOMMENDED: Broken Summers by HR.
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Title: Do I Come Here Often? (Black Coffee Blues, Pt. 2) by Henry Rollins, Shannon Wheeler ISBN: 1880985616 Publisher: Two Thirteen Sixty-One Pubns Pub. Date: December, 1998 List Price(USD): $12.00 |
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Title: Solipsist by Henry Rollins ISBN: 1880985594 Publisher: Publishers' Group West Pub. Date: August, 1998 List Price(USD): $12.00 |
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Title: See a Grown Man Cry, Now Watch Him Die by Henry Rollins ISBN: 1880985373 Publisher: Two Thirteen Sixty-One Pubns Pub. Date: August, 1997 List Price(USD): $17.00 |
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Title: Broken Summers by Henry Rollins ISBN: 1880985756 Publisher: Publishers Group West Pub. Date: 09 February, 2004 List Price(USD): $14.95 |
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Title: Black Coffee Blues by Henry Rollins ISBN: 1880985055 Publisher: Two Thirteen Sixty-One Pubns Pub. Date: December, 1992 List Price(USD): $11.00 |
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