I love Bill Bryson. Whether writing about the Appalachian Trail, the English language, or the sum total of our scientific discoveries to date, he has a real flare for making dry topics exciting. More accurately, he specializes in framing a subject in such a manner as to make that which is most exciting in it reveal itself. I also like his modesty as an author. He knows when he's licked. If there is content - like quantum theory or the boredom of arduous hiking - that by its very nature is either too vague or too tedious to be compelling, he doesn't force it. Rather, the writing becomes a meditation on the difficulty of describing the indescribable or the nondescript. And, because he's intelligent and funny, this works in a pinch to draw the reader back in. I wish Bryson could ghost-write this review of Elliott Smith's Either/Or because I can't for the life of me find a single interesting thing to say about it. It's not that it's bad exactly. "Bad" can still provoke a response. This is just bland, boring, by-the-numbers indie rock. What Jack Black's character from High Fidelity might call "sad bastard music." On the song "Rose Parade," when Smith sings, "They say it's a sight that's quite worth seeing / It's just that everyone's interest is stronger than mine / When they clean the streets, I'll be the only shit that's left behind," all I can think is "Oh, somebody just give this guy a hug and get him to shut the fuck up already." Of course, Bill Bryson would've put it in a much wittier way. I know Bill Bryson. Bill Bryson is a fave of mine. I am no Bill Bryson. Grade: C-
No comments:
Post a Comment