Awhile back I composed a list of books that were piled around my house, waiting for me to read them. Since that time, I’ve broken the logjam. No, I haven’t read any of the books on the list, but I did move and was forced to create new piles.
I did read a book since the move. “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead” is an oral history reminiscence of the recently deceased rocker Warren Zevon. I’m a big fan of his music and the book did force me to go out and buy a couple of his albums to plug some of the gaps in my collection. The book itself is less impressive. Compiled by his ex-wife, the book alternates between intimates in Warren’s life commenting on his life with some excepts from Zevon’s diary.
The idea was to create a “warts and all” biography of a person known for a fascination with guns, drugs, booze, women and literature. He bravely fought against terminal cancer by writing and recording one final album. The book is a mess because it is redundant. Everyone says the same thing over and over again: he drank a lot, he behaved badly when he drank, he slept with everyone and his music was both literate and brilliant.
The reader is given no context, just a few good stories about how some memorable songs were inspired and how badly he behaved while drinking. Save your money for a his albums.
