Posted by: beansai | March 8, 2008

Journal Entry #10: Another Bullshit Night in Suck City

    I’m not really sure how I feel about Nick Flynn’s Another Bullshit Night in Suck City. I actually really liked the title and kind of had high hopes for it when I saw it on the list. I was excited to get to it initially and kind of bummed that it was the last class text we were going to read. And then I had to actually read it.

    It wasn’t a horrible read. There were some good points to it. There were instances when I related to it, but all in all, it just didn’t strike a chord with me. I felt like Flynn just went over everything too quickly. He didn’t obsess about anything in the book…except his father…who he never really knew too well. But not even that bothers me, because I can totally relate to that obsession over someone you hardly or don’t even know. That huge parental question mark has been a big part of my life. So I sympathized with him. I guess I just felt cheated throughout the memoir, like there wasn’t enough emotional investment.

    Some people in class said that the memoir read like a person who has alcoholism or has dealt with it. I guess so, I really wouldn’t know. There were so many “oh my god!” moments to his life experiences and I felt like I never got a chance to really experience that with him. I find it annoying that tons of people came down on Brad Land for the style of writing he used in Goat and then completely ignored the fact that Nick Flynn had a very similar style. There was this short, choppy, disconnected style of writing. A constant build up of tension without a releasing moment for the reader. Everything just keeps piling on. AND Flynn’s memoir is like two or three times the size of Land’s….in what universe does this make sense?

    Like I mentioned in class….the only way I found Flynn’s memoir palatable was by reading it out loud to myself. But let me tell you, a hundred pages in one sitting of reading out loud is harsh on the throat. I think Flynn would have an interesting style of poetry and I would be curious to read his poems, but I didn’t really care for his memoir. It was interesting and there were moments when I related to the text, but all in all….well, let’s put it this way….I probably won’t ever read it again. :/

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