Class is more important than style, but theyre connected

The Paris Review boasts a terrific archive of interviews. Moments ago, I finished the ’92 & ’93 interview with Ken Kesey, author of great works and taker of strong drugs. While I must shamefully admit to being largely unfamiliar with his written words, I have read The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe, which documents the adventures of the Merry Pranksters and the sweeping influence of their energy. As I mentioned in my previous post, I am a fan of the beats–I sincerely believe that, if they were alive, Kerouac, Ginsberg and I would have gotten on famously– and while Kesey wasn’t part of that initial clan, his currents propelled their energies furthur.

Ken created his own world, the cult following occurred organically. Per Wolfe’s account, Kesey regularly returned to the pranksters to their ongoing movie–a social experiment in documentation positing life as altogether cinematic–which became a medium for the posse to interpret the world around them. As I read the Acid Test, I was most struck by the endlessly expansive nature of their ventures, whether that meant physical or mental propulsion. While LSD played no small part in the events of Kesey’s life and in the culture of the 60s, it certainly wasnt the driving force. Neal Cassady, literally, drove the bus. Whether with the pranksters, or Jack (and therein inspiring the opus that is On The Road), Conductor Cassady struck out the road to discovery. The drive to seek something deeper in both the individual and the universe, or as Kesey so neatly dubbed it “The Intrepid Search for Inner Space,” rocketed this generation into greatness. Drugs simply suited their needs.

During his Paris Review interview, Kesey snubs the idea of using drugs as a tool to facilitate writing, but rather simply seems to view them as an implement with which one can better understand him or herself. I really dig his whole understanding of the universe, or at least how he characterizes his understanding of the universe some 25 years after the madness of the pranksters.

Neal plays a prominent role among the pranksters, as himself. This man was motion: all accounts depict him as an endlessly cascading enunciation, and a catalyst in the ever changing world around him. Cassady seems like a hell of a guy, but I honestly lack the patience for his autobiography The First Third (although, to be fair, it technically an incomplete work). Nonetheless I am fascinated by the influence he wielded and his unyielding character. Kesey and the beats all had distinctive ideas and personas, but it seems as though Neal was in a league of his own.

The interconnectivity of literature sustains my interest in the written world. I suppose I have strayed a fair bit from the initial topic of an interview with Kesey, but hey, so it goes.

Caro

SWEAT. SHIRT.

I love books. I love to read. I love Shakespeare and I love Kerouac. Beyond my numerous literary infatuations, however, intelligent rap like the genius that is Earl Sweatshirt reaches me like nearly nothing else can. I remember the first time I was properly indoctrinated into the world of hip-hop: in 7th grade a friend played “I left my wallet in El Segundo” by the legendary A Tribe Called Quest. Since that time I have amassed a sizeable library of that old school hip-hop sound anyone with decent taste in music can appreciate (in no small part thanks to my girl Elif). While Wu, Tribe, De La, Jurassic 5 and Gang Starr have set the bar for quality beats high, there are newcomers to the game, such as my boy Earl, who show the promising future of rap.

Earl Sweatshirt, due to his elusive character and troubled past, piqued the interest of nearly anyone paying attention. Fortunately for us, he indulged our curiosity. The kid got his start with Odd Future, a skateboarding, Supreme wearing, gang of kids who were not only talented, but also rad as fuck. Many of his earlier tracks, oftentimes coupled with Tyler, The Creator (whom he has since outgrown), spoke of the familial complications with his mother who didnt understand him, a father who simply wasnt in the picture, and his struggle to cope with his own oftentimes stormy consciousness. His prepubescent voice managed to convey many a deep sentiment, as well as vicious ‘dont fuck with me’ vibes. From the get-go, this kid meant business.  Although I generally dig Odd Future, I have found that Tyler and even Frank have fallen from my repertoire, whereas Earl is on repeat.  His progress is not only evident but also inspiring.

When Doris dropped in 2013, I paid for that album–even though I was beyond broke. (I have yet to see him in concert, and that currently is one of my biggest regrets…) That album though, it was a fucking banger. Being largely responsible for his own production, at the tender age of 19, Earl combined gritty, truthful verses over that bass-heavy beat many a hip-hop head has come to expect from anyone making music nowadays. Even now, as I listen to Pre, love this album. I do however miss his prepubescent voice, but the pitch of his voice now does match the gravity of his subject matter.

When his most recent album, “I dont like shit, I dont go outside,” dropped, I played it on repeat for days. DAYS. Despite the fact that Action Bronson and Kendrick (whose album I also purchased) dropped that same week, all I wanted to do was listen to Earl. Although only comprised of ten tracks, running about thirty minutes, Earl manages to expand on previous topics–the careful listener will notice many lines being expounded upon from Doris–and demonstrate unprecedented maturity given his circumstances.

I have this image of Earl as a goofy kid who likes to smoke blunts and drink liquor–basically, I think he and I would get along tremendously. However, tracks such as Grief demonstrate the severity of the isolation he feels. His anxieties, vices, shortcomings, are all laid bare. But, he manages to convey his pain in an artistic, relatable manner, demonstrating incredible fortitude. The novelty of fame has worn off, now he is a man on a mission. Younger than I, he is infinitely more self aware. Every single track from “I dont like shit” deserves to be blasted at full volume, and each word resonates regardless of the volume.

I’ll talk about books eventually, I promise, I just really like Earl….

besos–Caro

A Moveable Feast-Ernest Hemingway

I finished A Moveable Feast in one sitting last night. I sat down in a recliner from 9:00-11:30 and just read straight through, occasionally responding to text messages and catching glimpses of the Suns Blazers game. But for the most part, I was transfixed. I’ve read books in one sitting before, but never with the same voracity as tonight. I had read Hermann Hesse’s Demian earlier in the afternoon and a short Murakami story as well. You’d think I would be mentally tired, but I just pressed through with ease. I have always been obsessed with Hemingway, ever since reading A Farewell to Arms, but now after reading Paul Hendrickson’s Hemingway’s Boat I am even more obsessed. I have developed a deeper connection with him and after reading Hendrickson’s book I understand his writing more. It has shed so much light on his work. One of my literary goals has always been to read everything Hemingway has ever written, and I believe I am on a sort of ‘Hemingway high’ now. I think now would be a good time to restart The Garden of Eden and reread The Sun Also Rises.

The chapters toward the end of the novel of A Moveable Feast are mostly dedicated to Fitzgerald and Hemingway’s interactions with him, which is really interesting to read. Hemingway is invariably witty and there’s a passage towards the end where Fitzgerald tells Hemingway that he is unsure of his dick size and they go to the back of the restaurant where Hemingway inspects the situation and assures him he is endowed finely. He proceeds to give him sex advice and it is an absolutely brilliant passage. It’s funny because this book is about Hemingway’s earlier years in Paris with his first wife and he is soft and has not turned into a prick yet. You also find out that they have a cat named F.Puss (brilliant) and that he is the child’s babysitter at times. Other things: Gertrude Stein is a pretentious bitch and evokes the same feelings Professor Umbridge does from me. Lastly, Hemingway mentions many Russian authors he has enjoyed reading (Turgenev, Chekhov, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Gogol) and it really makes me appreciate the Russian lit class I took freshman year of college and also makes me want to read the book of Chekhov plays I have sitting on my shelf.

Moving on to True at First Light tomorrow.

-elif

Take your last two deep breaths and pass the mic

Two of my favorite things in life are probably books and music. Things. Hobbies. Pastimes. Whatever noun you want to use. They are one in the same. And yet these things are the hardest topics for me to write about. I think it’s because when I engage in either, they engulf all of me. It’s so hard to put what you feel with all of your senses, with your entire body, into words. In the past it seems whatever I’ve tried to write comes out trite and flat, the exact opposite of the message I’m trying to convey. So this blog will be an experiment. I’m calling it a book club. But it is not a compilation of book reviews! Merely an outlet to share great reads with great friends. It will function mostly for books, but I want to be able to share good music finds as well.

I’m currently attempting to read a minimum of 50 pages per day, because the least I can do is carve out an hour of my day to read. I’m also trying not to purchase any more books until I finish what is on my shelves. (The latter is more difficult.) I read pretty often in college, but now that I am out of the academic world, I have placed a higher importance on reading because I view it as the greatest way for me to learn more and to better myself. I know few people who are as voracious of readers as I am. It’s not boastful, it’s a fact. My partner in crime aka the co-editor of this so-called ‘book club blog’ is one of the few. Truthfully, I don’t even know what these posts will entail or if anyone will even read them, but I want to be able to share what I’m reading because books have been and always will be an important part of my life. I hope these entries can encourage someone to go to his/her local library and check out one of these books. BECAUSE BOOKS ARE FUCKING GREAT.

I’m done. Passing the mic.

-elif