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Bezig met laden... All Tomorrow's Parties: A Memoirdoor Rob Spillman
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Rob Spillman, editor of Tin House magazine, has led a life defined by restless searching. Born in Germany to two extremely driven musicians, his childhood was spent among the West Berlin cognoscenti, in the epicenter of a city two hundred miles behind the Iron Curtain. There, the Berlin Wall stood as a stark reminder of the split between suppressed dreams and freedom of expression, and the artistic lives surrounding him never felt more authentic. From backstage dressing rooms to the front rows of concert halls, Spillman was inspired to live for art; nothing was more romantic or ideal. Geen bibliotheekbeschrijvingen gevonden. |
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Google Books — Bezig met laden... GenresDewey Decimale Classificatie (DDC)070.4Information Journalism And Publishing Journalism And Publishing JournalismLC-classificatieWaarderingGemiddelde:
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Using alternating chapters that give the narrative a sense of simultaneity, Spillman follows his childhood; and his later search as an adult for a bohemian writing lifestyle in Europe, patterned after Hemingway or Kerouac. Driven primarily by anecdotes, the narrative is both intimate and engaging. What Spillman fails to recognize throughout the memoir, however, —and only seems to come to terms with in the final pages—was that he was a perennial outsider who adopted several powerful coping mechanisms. He ran to escape. Although a talented runner, he never realized any of his running fantasies. One of the most troubling and curious anecdotes was his decision to leave his wife while she was obviously experiencing a medical emergency to go for a run through the rubble of East Berlin. He read widely and was obviously moved by what he read, but one gets the sense that this was another way to escape things he did not like, such as boring part time jobs. And most troubling of all, he aspired to being a great writer himself (probably influenced by his artistic father), but never really engaged with it. Instead he did things that actually interfered with it like drinking and partying to excess. Although a man known to like a party, Hemingway once said about writing, “All you have to do is write one true sentence.” Spillman wrote a whole manuscript for a novel that he later realized had no true sentences, so he discarded it.
Although the memoir is replete with colorful anecdotes and does not shrink from the truth, it can be frustrating to read because, filtered through the lens he creates, one sees a young man who was given far too little guidance and allowed to make far too many wrong turns and to venture down far too many blind alleys. He flunked out of college and had three major automobile accidents to mention just two. Clearly, he seems to have been prone to adopting risky behaviors that occasionally panned out, like electing to live in East Berlin prior to unification, but just as likely did not. Knowing that he landed on his feet in the end is a relief and a testament to his intelligence, perseverance and guile. ( )