Title: Chronicles: Volume One (Chronicles)
Author: Bob Dylan
LC Rating:

It’s a nice thing, every once in awhile, to be reminded that no matter how tuned in you think you are, that there’s a whole lot of interesting stuff going on outside your notice. That’s my way of excusing myself for not realizing that Bob Dylan was in the process of writing a three-volume set of memoirs. Chronicles: Volume One actually came out in 2004; I heard about it on Sunday, picked it up yesterday and finished reading it this afternoon.

The first thing I’d like to say is: To hell with Bob Dylan for being so damn talented!

Ok, now that’s off my chest. Chronicles: Volume One was not at all what I expected, Dylan makes no effort to have the thing work in a conventionally biographical sense; instead it’s almost as though by opening these pages, you’ve invited the man to sit down and just reminisce. Dylan’s gift for the apt phrase is in full flower, little nuggets of charmed wordplay keep cropping up as the conversational tone of the book meanders across tangents, anecdotes and fully-fleshed scenes from the life of an american legend.

The jumps in narrative flow can be jarring, but they work. Flashing from New York City on the precipice of becoming a household name, to later in his career as he describes his plans to sully his reputation and reclaim some modicum of privacy, then to the process of trying to learn to sing his own songs again after the idea of touring has grown stale, to a studio in New Orleans where he searches for the magic of song-writing again, only to wind up back in New York as the break starts to occur; Chronicles: Volume One reads like a calm whirlwind that is deeply engrossing, lyrical and compelling.

I can’t wait for the next installment.

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