Tuesday, September 7, 2010

I just finished  another bullshit night in suck city  by Nick Flynn, another memoir by a damaged person writing about his/her damaged life. 

My favorite fair, my favorite topic, when they are good. 

This one is excellent. 

I have read a several books lately that felt so false, so contrived- both memoir and fiction. 

This one was the exact opposite.

This felt so authentic and real, that it made me want to talk to the author, wish he was my friend.
If you have ever known an addict, a drunk, anyone truly down on his luck, if someone you cared about killed himself,  then you would be able to believe this story deeply. 

So vastly different from the absurd, "a million little pieces", which I know I have dissed before, but I can't help myself.

I love that the author takes work in a homeless shelter, but is also able to have boundaries, around his own father's homelessness, mental illness and acoholism, he owns up to his own need to rescue and his desire to be rescued.

"If I went to the drowning man the drowning man would pull me under. I couldn't be his life raft."

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