book review

‘Forced Entries’ – a book review

Forced Entries: The Downtown Diaries: 1971-1973Forced Entries: The Downtown Diaries: 1971-1973 by Jim Carroll
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I enjoyed reading Jim Carroll’s movement from all out junkie in NYC to mostly clean weedhead in California then traveling back to NYC to re-experience it like a challenge he was taking on for himself in his new sparkly dried out persona. – may he rest in peace – You almost think the kid didn’t stand much of a chance, hobnobbing with celebrity at Max’s and getting dissed by Warhol over the phone, because Warhol only wanted to talk to him when he was wired on speed (and recorded these phone calls apparently). Great street level perspective of NYC in the early seventies. Jim Carroll is an brutally honest sorta writer, so be prepared to go under carpets with him and hangout with fragments of cheese doodles and mites. Or inside a festering abscess. He certainly won’t glorify substance abuse or addiction, so you don’t need to worry about your children. Or do you? I found the first half of the book a little harder to get through, a lot of socializing with Ginsberg and name dropping (though anyone could be envious to hang out with William Burroughs and Bob Dylan for a night). Sometimes I felt he was writing to impress his celebrity buds. But mostly I admire Jim Carroll, I consider him a strong writer and the survivor we know by his Basketball Diaries. This book was supposed to be a sorta sequel to that one. He didn’t stand a chance as a kid himself going deep on the streets, yet he always respected the muse and was a real creative mind, and a local new yorker in his heart. The second half of the book I found a bit clearer, more honest, and particularly his return from Bolinas to NYC. The last quarter of the book was a straight read, I hunkered down in my apartment and really got into it. It ends well, I mean, more intimate and heartfelt. A good read.

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a tease

stigmata. a tease

“There’s no time to brood and worry, what a waste worry would be, like playing your xbox until you’re utterly xuded and eyes tend to bleed, walk outside and get mobbed by the faithful seeking miracles and stigmata. I believe in Kell, and she believes in me, or at least I wanna believe she believes in me cuz I believe in her. We lost our connection, so what? Lines get cut every day. May we be among the faithful, abiding miracles.”   —  from Ame and The Tangy Energetic (Book #3)

cover book #2 by katya

digital ink child

maybe the sweetest moment of writing a book
comes when      the intangibles
the tangibles

coalesce into a unified

tale
whole fiction
re.creation
en.vision

abstracted (out) then dropped back (in) to the world

the conveyance
your child of
digital ink

surrounds

like an atmosphere
like an aura
like a concert
like a principle
like a faith

maybe even warms a heart
or two

finally makes sense
and not only
to you