Chuck and Book (plus other stories)
I guess you know you've made it as an author when publishers are willing to pay you shitloads of moolah to scribble down some thoughts about your hometown. And so Portland, Oregon gets the vanity project treatment from Chuck Palahniuk in Fugitives and Refugees, a disjointed but readable account of how the city helped shape the man and his writing career. The book only occasionally rises above the level of a broadsheet magazine article, but if it doesn't exactly qualify as great literature it's still worth a read if you have an interest in the author. Minus points, though, for no mention of Portland's finest The Thermals (whose second album Fuckin' A is finally released in the UK on June 28): publisher's deadline, my arse!
Douglas Coupland does a better job of selling his home city (Vancouver) in City Of Glass, helped by the fact that it's a bigger, glossier tome full of vivid colour pictures. As with the Palahniuk book, Coupland tries his hand at a bit of proper writing here and there, but mostly coasts along with a vaguely smug insistence that Vancouver is the best city in the world ever. Even the persistent rain is brushed off with the revelation that this is 'good for the skin' (presumably, by logical extension, one might argue that living in a totalitarian regime is acceptable on the grounds that its great for character-building). Frankly, Doug, I'd rather moisturise and live somewhere sunny. But perhaps we shouldn't be too harsh on his propaganda as it makes such a refreshing change to read a Coupland book with a coherent point of view.
Of course, you could do things the hard way, and write about the city you love while weaving it into a complex web of fiction, as Geoff Nicholson achieved in his 1997 novel Bleeding London (a book I discovered via David's now sadly-neglected Swish Cottage). The novel features three characters on separate obsessive journeys through the capital city - a young Sheffield thug hunting down his girlfriend's six assailants; a half-Japanese bookshop assistant compulsively mapping her sexual conquests and a menopausal male determined to walk down every road in London until he meets his destiny. While the novel has enough ripe sex and violence to please any pulp fan, it's also subtle and thoughtful in parts, and if the characterisations don't always convince, Nicholson's detailed fascination with the city is never in doubt. Recommended, particularly if you live (or love) in London.
Related links:
Brass Knocker. Excuse me for sniggering as a certain anonymous blogger urges you not to read Helen Walsh's Brass. He describes it as 'filth porn Mancunian slang university collision literature'. Presumably he'll tell us what he doesn't like about it at a later stage...(?)
Chuck Palahniuk spills his Guts on mp3 (not safe for work, may induce nausea, not suitable for those of a nervous disposition - seriously, you have been warned)
I guess you know you've made it as an author when publishers are willing to pay you shitloads of moolah to scribble down some thoughts about your hometown. And so Portland, Oregon gets the vanity project treatment from Chuck Palahniuk in Fugitives and Refugees, a disjointed but readable account of how the city helped shape the man and his writing career. The book only occasionally rises above the level of a broadsheet magazine article, but if it doesn't exactly qualify as great literature it's still worth a read if you have an interest in the author. Minus points, though, for no mention of Portland's finest The Thermals (whose second album Fuckin' A is finally released in the UK on June 28): publisher's deadline, my arse!
Douglas Coupland does a better job of selling his home city (Vancouver) in City Of Glass, helped by the fact that it's a bigger, glossier tome full of vivid colour pictures. As with the Palahniuk book, Coupland tries his hand at a bit of proper writing here and there, but mostly coasts along with a vaguely smug insistence that Vancouver is the best city in the world ever. Even the persistent rain is brushed off with the revelation that this is 'good for the skin' (presumably, by logical extension, one might argue that living in a totalitarian regime is acceptable on the grounds that its great for character-building). Frankly, Doug, I'd rather moisturise and live somewhere sunny. But perhaps we shouldn't be too harsh on his propaganda as it makes such a refreshing change to read a Coupland book with a coherent point of view.
Of course, you could do things the hard way, and write about the city you love while weaving it into a complex web of fiction, as Geoff Nicholson achieved in his 1997 novel Bleeding London (a book I discovered via David's now sadly-neglected Swish Cottage). The novel features three characters on separate obsessive journeys through the capital city - a young Sheffield thug hunting down his girlfriend's six assailants; a half-Japanese bookshop assistant compulsively mapping her sexual conquests and a menopausal male determined to walk down every road in London until he meets his destiny. While the novel has enough ripe sex and violence to please any pulp fan, it's also subtle and thoughtful in parts, and if the characterisations don't always convince, Nicholson's detailed fascination with the city is never in doubt. Recommended, particularly if you live (or love) in London.
Related links:
Brass Knocker. Excuse me for sniggering as a certain anonymous blogger urges you not to read Helen Walsh's Brass. He describes it as 'filth porn Mancunian slang university collision literature'. Presumably he'll tell us what he doesn't like about it at a later stage...(?)
Chuck Palahniuk spills his Guts on mp3 (not safe for work, may induce nausea, not suitable for those of a nervous disposition - seriously, you have been warned)
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