Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Book Review: A Million Little Pieces by James Frey
Writing Style-6.6
Originality-6.9
Plot-7.1
Literary Merit(whatever that means)-6.9
Overall-6.8
I’ve read several great memoirs within the last year or so in this vein; most notably Dave Eggers’ A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and The Liar’s Club by Mary Karr. This book ranks right up there with those.
This is a personal account of the author’s trip to, through, and out of a drug and alcohol rehabilitation clinic. Basically, the dude has been an addict for nearly as long as he can remember. He started stealing alcohol and getting drunk when he was like 8 or something and then quickly moved on to pot and then harder and harder drugs until at age 23 he’s constantly drunk and his drug of choice is crack. He describes daily vomiting, passing out, shitting blood, etc.
When the book opens, he wakes up on a plane with his face and body torn up all to pieces and he has no idea what he’s doing or memory of how he got there. This essentially is his rock bottom and so, with the help of his parents, he checks into one of the premiere rehab clinics in the country.
Alright, I might as well own up to it, this is the current *throat clearing noise* Oprah book club selection. With this book, she returns to recommending contemporary authors after a hiatus of 2 or 3 years (much to the joy of the publishing industry).
It’s really an extremely edgy and gritty book. Frey talks frankly about all of the nastiest aspects of addiction and addicts without glorifying it at all.
It’s extremely fun to read though. Laugh out loud funny at times. The characters that he is surrounded by in rehab are really too good to be true. So good in fact, I wonder if there were some embellished aspects in places.
The writing is pretty monotone, it gets to be a little repetitive, but not too bad really. There are no quotation marks or paragraph indentations. I tend to like these type of gimmicks. It looks beautiful on the page, much like Cormac McCarthy’s writing. And it fits the sort of frantic nervousness and addiction and rage at the center of the story.
Everything that makes up a good memoir and story is included here (not to mention what would make a good movie). Not only are the characters great, but there is a forbidden love story and there is mysteries that Frey adeptly answers in little chunks that keep you turning pages. For instance, what happened to him at the beginning of the book? What is his friend Leonard’s mysterious background? What went on with Frey and his parents such that he turned out this way?
I also like that Frey gets turned on to Taoism in the book. I’ve always been a big fan of this philosophy and have adopted it myself (or tried to as best I can) at certain times. Frey is sort of faced with a problem that I am often frightened by. What if at some point in your life you are in dire need of religion, but are completely incapable of believing in anything that requires faith? It’s an utterly terrifying thought.
My biggest problem with the book is the idea that an addict can simply choose not to be an addict. Frey apparently chooses this route and has been sober ever since. But, I agree with his therapist that he is one in a million. I’m very happy for him and have the utmost respect for his courage and determination and success, but I can’t help but think that this idea is a common one and a dangerous one to reinforce, especially given the circulation of an *throat clearing noise* Oprah selection. I know it’s a memoir so it’s about Frey’s journey towards sobriety, but I would have liked to have seen his triumph cast in a slightly different light—not so, ‘I’m gonna kick this thing’s ass myself, because I’m a badass and everyone else be damned’ and then he goes on to, in fact, kick it’s ass; but that his particular case was special in some way or another that helped him beat the overwhelming odds that has a more complex explanation than, ‘I’m a badass, so I kicked it’s ass.’
Frey seems like a pretty interesting character. Check out this Salon article on him and the book.
http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2003/04/19/frey/
I particularly like the tattoo “F.T.B.I.T.T.T.D.”, which stands for Fuck the Bullshit it’s Time to Throw Down. I also don’t much mind the ego and self-promotion. For some reason, I’m often a fan of this tactic, ala Ryan Adams.
Overall, this is a really great memoir. It’s got it all. Don’t miss it just because you-know-who recommends it. Also, make sure and read A Heartbreaking Work, which Frey colorfully dismisses in his interview. It’s actually better. Sorry James.
Originality-6.9
Plot-7.1
Literary Merit(whatever that means)-6.9
Overall-6.8
I’ve read several great memoirs within the last year or so in this vein; most notably Dave Eggers’ A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and The Liar’s Club by Mary Karr. This book ranks right up there with those.
This is a personal account of the author’s trip to, through, and out of a drug and alcohol rehabilitation clinic. Basically, the dude has been an addict for nearly as long as he can remember. He started stealing alcohol and getting drunk when he was like 8 or something and then quickly moved on to pot and then harder and harder drugs until at age 23 he’s constantly drunk and his drug of choice is crack. He describes daily vomiting, passing out, shitting blood, etc.
When the book opens, he wakes up on a plane with his face and body torn up all to pieces and he has no idea what he’s doing or memory of how he got there. This essentially is his rock bottom and so, with the help of his parents, he checks into one of the premiere rehab clinics in the country.
Alright, I might as well own up to it, this is the current *throat clearing noise* Oprah book club selection. With this book, she returns to recommending contemporary authors after a hiatus of 2 or 3 years (much to the joy of the publishing industry).
It’s really an extremely edgy and gritty book. Frey talks frankly about all of the nastiest aspects of addiction and addicts without glorifying it at all.
It’s extremely fun to read though. Laugh out loud funny at times. The characters that he is surrounded by in rehab are really too good to be true. So good in fact, I wonder if there were some embellished aspects in places.
The writing is pretty monotone, it gets to be a little repetitive, but not too bad really. There are no quotation marks or paragraph indentations. I tend to like these type of gimmicks. It looks beautiful on the page, much like Cormac McCarthy’s writing. And it fits the sort of frantic nervousness and addiction and rage at the center of the story.
Everything that makes up a good memoir and story is included here (not to mention what would make a good movie). Not only are the characters great, but there is a forbidden love story and there is mysteries that Frey adeptly answers in little chunks that keep you turning pages. For instance, what happened to him at the beginning of the book? What is his friend Leonard’s mysterious background? What went on with Frey and his parents such that he turned out this way?
I also like that Frey gets turned on to Taoism in the book. I’ve always been a big fan of this philosophy and have adopted it myself (or tried to as best I can) at certain times. Frey is sort of faced with a problem that I am often frightened by. What if at some point in your life you are in dire need of religion, but are completely incapable of believing in anything that requires faith? It’s an utterly terrifying thought.
My biggest problem with the book is the idea that an addict can simply choose not to be an addict. Frey apparently chooses this route and has been sober ever since. But, I agree with his therapist that he is one in a million. I’m very happy for him and have the utmost respect for his courage and determination and success, but I can’t help but think that this idea is a common one and a dangerous one to reinforce, especially given the circulation of an *throat clearing noise* Oprah selection. I know it’s a memoir so it’s about Frey’s journey towards sobriety, but I would have liked to have seen his triumph cast in a slightly different light—not so, ‘I’m gonna kick this thing’s ass myself, because I’m a badass and everyone else be damned’ and then he goes on to, in fact, kick it’s ass; but that his particular case was special in some way or another that helped him beat the overwhelming odds that has a more complex explanation than, ‘I’m a badass, so I kicked it’s ass.’
Frey seems like a pretty interesting character. Check out this Salon article on him and the book.
http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2003/04/19/frey/
I particularly like the tattoo “F.T.B.I.T.T.T.D.”, which stands for Fuck the Bullshit it’s Time to Throw Down. I also don’t much mind the ego and self-promotion. For some reason, I’m often a fan of this tactic, ala Ryan Adams.
Overall, this is a really great memoir. It’s got it all. Don’t miss it just because you-know-who recommends it. Also, make sure and read A Heartbreaking Work, which Frey colorfully dismisses in his interview. It’s actually better. Sorry James.
