by DirtyMartini on 26 Sep 2009 01:22
[Sorry: holding forth.]
I must say that the early Police parts (or lack thereof) is where I must very much dissent. Not because I think the book needs more Police for Police's sake (I, too, am more interested in the other stuff), but because from a narrative standpoint, there is gaping hole in the story that never gets filled.
(Spoilers galore approaching, so if you don't want to know, look away now.)
In my opinion (and since this is all my opinion, I'm going to let that one instance stand for everything I say), the opening section of the book is the weakest: it reads as the most rushed and the least developed; the chronology is often messy; the first chapter letter is an unwelcome tack-on. (Wardrobe is such a strong opening chapter, and now it's watered down by an oh-shit-I-better-explain-some-stuff bit in front. Even the advertising is built around Wardrobe as the opening. What happened?) But even though the opening section can be pretty rough and tumble, parts are really well done (the waxing poetic about music is lovely, the hilarious Klark Kent chapter), and once you hit section 2, Stewart really hits his stride.
But the Police parts of the first section are a lot of throwaway material: Tagging is cute but generally pointless; KK is wonderful, but presented without a real sense of the larger context; the ES:TPIO narration doesn't get past 1978 (and is rather Oh, Honey, No); and then in the turn of the page, the band is over.
The actual Police part of the Police? Pfft.
Now I know that our poor correspondent has already trod the early Police ground many, many, many times over. I know that books are long and hard and take up a crapload of time. On that, Stewart Copeland has my respect and sympathy. But as a reader of Strange Things Happen, well, honestly, I gotta say, Tough. I'm not reading Everyone Stares; I'm not reading Copeland interviews: I'm reading this here book in my hand. This book needs to tell me what I need to know in order to fully understand it. But on this subject, it doesn't.
Had the Police been minor, it wouldn't matter: a reader could chalk it up to one of the many cute anecdotes and move on. But the early Police is vital to understanding the late Police, and the late Police takes up the entire last section of the book. Flying through childhood, skipping over Animal Logic: that's fine; those details don't affect the overall story. But the Police does. The problem isn't that there isn't enough early Police to satisfy Police fans (that's a non-issue to me). The problem is that there isn't enough early Police to satisfy the reader's understanding of the rest of the book.
The most memorable lines in the whole book for me were, "When I was a kid this band was all that I knew. It could crush me. But now I know better." Those words are powerful: they're personal, they're honest, and they're affecting. But we never see it: we never see the band crush him; we never see why; we never see how. In order to really get the last section (as well as a lot of asides and chapters throughout), you have to understand who the band is and why they matter, in particular from Stewart's point of view. But it's not in there.
The book reads as if it assumes that every reader will be not just a Police fan, but a pretty well-read one. And yes, the Police are, of course, the biggest selling point. But by making that assumption, it limits its audience and makes the information less full, less clear, and less strong than it could be for those that remain.
It wouldn't have taken much. We don't need a whole section on the early Police: with less than 10 pages (maybe 5 even) of genuine content added, Stewart could have summed up the Police from his perspective and thereby given the rest of the book something to build upon. Yes, I know that's easy for me to say, and that writing is long and hard and time-consuming. But this is one hell of a book. It's intelligent, it's funny, it's bizarre; it goes places few people have been. It's not a typical memoir/biography, it's certainly not a typical musician's (and especially drummer's) memoir/biography; and it's accessible to many different kinds of readers. It's a ballsy experiment in style, it's told in an unusual voice, and the damn thing smacks all around of unique-itude.
But that absence of early material weakens what follows. IMO, the book is poured without a solid foundation, and that is what keeps a good book from becoming great.
[Thank you.]
ETA: Also, thank you to dafttart for sending me a UK copy, and thank you to Stewart for the signature.
Last edited by
DirtyMartini on 26 Sep 2009 04:39, edited 1 time in total.
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