Will Dockery
2004-07-12 04:58:27 UTC
For some reason I don't have access to alt.books.beatgeneration.
However, here's what I sent to the two guys who posted about Carroll.
You can post it on the newsgroup if you want. (If you do, please insert
a note that replies should be sent via e-mail.) Also, will you send me
further developments on the topic?
Cassie Carter |-------------------------------------|
English Department | here . . . I'm extending my wrist |
Bowling Green State University | to you . . . feel the pulse. |
Bowling Green, OH 43403 | Feel it. --Jim Carroll |
***@bgnet.bgsu.edu |-------------------------------------|
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: ***@mailhost.epix.net (Jay A. Gertzman)
Newsgroups: alt.books.beatgeneration
Subject: The Basketball Diaries
Date: Wed, 03 Jan 1996 04:27:05 GMT
Can anyone help me with information or appreciation, criticisma, etc. of
Jim
Carroll's The Basketball Diaries? I don't know if it can be called a beat
work but the narrator is certainly contemptuous of social conventions,
all
kinds of sentiment and idealism, and what could be classified as
"sensible"
protection from disease and violence. Although the book is funny in
places,
I've rarely read anything more devoid of faith in the future or hope that
there is such a thing as meaningful human contact or mutual concern. What
other works of fiction or autobiography is this
work compared to? Is Carroll's later work of similar bleakness?
MY RESPONSE TO JAY:
First of all, I have published two articles on Carroll that may be of use
to you. These are:
Kuennen, Cassie Carter. "Jim Carroll: An Annotated, Selective, Primary
and Secondary Bibliography, 1967-1988." *Bulletin of Bibliography* 47.2
(1990): 81-112.
I will be happy to send you an updated version if you are interested.
Carter, Cassie. "The Sickness That Takes Years to Perfect: Jim Carroll's
Alchemical Vision." *Dionysos: Literature and Addiction Triquarterly*
(forthcoming in the next issue).
There are also about 20 Web pages dealing with Carroll. I will send you
a list if you are interested. (I'm hoping to have a Carroll home page up
and running in the near future, but until then . . .)
Secondly, I agree with your characterization of Carroll as "contemptuous
of social conventions, all kinds of sentiment and idealism, and what could
be classified as "sensible" protection from disease and violence." I have
always thought of this in terms of his "punk" code of ethics. I mean,
look at the world he is growing up in. (Remember, *Basketball Diaries* is
his actual diary; this stuff really happened.) He has to be tough just to
survive, and he has to be "punk" to transcend the crap his world is
constantly throwing at him. Two entries are especially important in
explaining Carroll's punk code: the "leap into the Harlem River" entry
(47-50) and the "presence" entry (89-90). He has to be able to endure
physical and emotional pain without even a wince; he's got to jump into
the river and risk being hit by a "shit line" to prove that he is worthy
of existence (think of the Harlem River as a metaphor for the world . .
.); and he's got to do it all with the grace of a cheetah, making it all
seem effortless--otherwise, he risks just making a fool of himself (like a
chimp).
As for Carroll's connection to the Beats, that's a complex issue. He
claims he never read *On the Road* until after he finished the *Diaries*,
but he indicates in the *Diaries* that he was reading Ginsberg and
Burroughs. After the *Diaries*, though, he became close friends with
Ginsberg and he knows most of the Beats personally. Kerouac even wrote a
blurb for the *Diaries*. Carroll does not consider himself a
Beat writer, but he thinks of himself as a poet, and his poetry
isn't Beat. I say his diaries and lyrics are Beat-Punk.
You also asked what works *Basketball Diaries* can be compared to. Well
. . . the ones that usually come up are *Catcher in the Rye* and
*Adventures of Huckleberry Finn*. I agree that it is very much a growing
up story. What's unique about it is that it's an actual diary, not a
fiction, and Carroll wrote it as things happened, not in retrospect.
And, of course, the content itself is pretty unique. Most people who
read it can't believe that such things could happen in a real life. It's
a real eye-opener, isn't it?
That brings me to your question, "Is Carroll's later work of similar
bleakness?" This begs the question, "Is *Basketball Diaries* bleak?" to
which the answer is No!!! There are bleak *moments* in all of Carroll's
works. In *Forced Entries*, as in *Basketball Diaries*, Carroll lands in
the bottom of the pit, crawls out, falls back in, crawls out again . . .
Just like in the song "City Drops Into the Night," though, there is
always a moment of light to redeem the darkness. That, I think, is
the most important (and most often missed) aspect of Carroll's work.
I strongly disagree with this statement: "I've rarely read anything more
devoid of faith in the future or hope that there is such a thing as
meaningful human contact or mutual concern." Jim Carroll is one of the
most optimistic writers I have ever had the pleasure to read. In *The
Basketball Diaries*, it is Carroll's faith in the future and his hope for
meaningful human contact that keeps him alive! He writes, repeatedly, "I
just want to be pure." He wants the Bomb to hold off just one more day so
he can play in a big game, so he can go to camp, so he can find out "if
I'm the writer I know I can be" (150-51). He dreams about a lame girl and
knows "there was an incredible love somewhere in my world . . ." (177).
(Listen to "I Want the Angel" for more on this idealism!) He gets tossed
into Rikers and thinks "about what a nice concept it is having a
'godmother' and 'godfather.'" He masturbates on his rooftop to experience
a pure communion with his body and the universe. He takes LSD, smokes
pot, shoots heroin in his search for beauty in an ugly world (notice how
beautiful and poetic his descriptions of hallucinations and nods are). Of
course, just about everything he tries in his search for beauty and love
backfires on him, but the fact is that it is his optimism, his search for
purity and beauty that keeps him going. Jim Carroll is no nihilist!
---------------------------------------------------
From: jim harris <***@sseinc.com>
Newsgroups: alt.books.beatgeneration
Subject: Re: The Basketball Diaries
Date: 3 Jan 1996 19:54:01 GMT
To: ***@mailhost.epix.net
Come on, the guy was only sixteen when he wrote it. It is fundamentally
comparable to the abject realism found in Zola or Henry Miller-To get a
real grasp of Jim Carrol as a beat is through his punk rock albums in the
early eighties I write your name, Catholic Boy and the absolute
masterpiece DRY DREAMS. He is a brilliant poet with an incredible sense
of irony and sound. All the elements that you quote as downgrading the
work are reasons it works so brilliantly at capturing the pathos of a
sixteen year old who would later become a great poet.
MY RESPONSE TO JIM: Hmmm. First of all, Carroll was 12 when he started
writing *The Basketball Diaries*, and the book ends when he is 15.
Second, he was already a poet by the time he was 15; he published his
first book of poetry, *Organic Trains*, when he was 17, maybe 16 1/2.
Third, it's interesting that you mention Henry Miller, since Miller was
very influential in Carroll's decision to do rock music (see just about
any interview from the early-to-mid-eighties). Fourth, I am very
surprised that you name *Dry Dreams* as a masterpiece . . . I like it too,
but I think you are probably the first and only person in the world to
call it a masterpiece. (I don't mean to insult you--I really am
surprised! It got panned all over the place when it came out!) Anyway,
that's just the little stuff. More to the point, I want to restate my
point that the negativity Jay finds in *Basketball Diaries*, and which you
say captures the pathos of a budding young poet, simply isn't there.
"Pathos" is an especially inappropriate word to use in relation to the
*Diaries* and Carroll's music (though I might use it--cautiously--to
describe some of *Forced Entries*). Carroll refuses to *ever* let anyone
pity him. No matter how horribly he suffers, no matter what happens to
him, he always turns it into a victory. What does he do when his shorts
rip, exposing his ass to a gym full of people? He moons everyone. What
does he do when a basketball scout lures him home with the promise of a
Flyers uniform, then starts molesting him? He punches the bastard and
leaves the room as a hero. What does he do when his habit has reduced him
to hustling men in public toilets? He transforms the scene into a
personal victory over every authority figure who has ever cut him down.
And how about his music? Eleven of the 40 kids who graduated with him
from his Catholic grammar school died in Vietnam. Teddy fell from the
roof; Cathy OD'd on reds and wine; Bobby died of leukemia; G-berg and
Georgie died of hepatitus; Eddie got slit in the jugular vein; Bobby OD'd
on Drano . . . on and on. "People Who Died" lists 13 of his friends who
died. Does this song create "pathos," though? No. Carroll celebrates
the fact that HE SURVIVED. Another good example is his recent poem "8
Fragments for Kurt Cobain." Most of the time when people talk about
Cobain, they romanticize him, make him the "hero of his generation," or
bemoan the loss of such a bright star. Carroll, on the other hand,
itemizes the parallels between his experience and Cobain's, saying he
understands what Cobain felt. But again, no pathos. He writes in the
seventh fragment, "But Kurt . . . / Didn't the thought that you would
never write / another song / Another feverish line or riff / Make you
think twice? / That's what I don't understand / Because it's kept me
alive, above any wounds."
I hope my point is well taken. I'm thrilled to see people talking about
Carroll and trying to make sense of his life and work. Yet when anyone
tries to paint him as a nihilist or producer of "pathos," I've got to
jump in. Part of the problem is that, biographically, Carroll perfectly
fits the stereotype of the tortured, decadent young artist . . . but as
an artist, he has spent his life transcending that stereotype. I think
that transcendence is what he should be recognized for.
Okay, I'll shut up now.
***@aol.com
Good stuff, found and reposted.
Will
However, here's what I sent to the two guys who posted about Carroll.
You can post it on the newsgroup if you want. (If you do, please insert
a note that replies should be sent via e-mail.) Also, will you send me
further developments on the topic?
Cassie Carter |-------------------------------------|
English Department | here . . . I'm extending my wrist |
Bowling Green State University | to you . . . feel the pulse. |
Bowling Green, OH 43403 | Feel it. --Jim Carroll |
***@bgnet.bgsu.edu |-------------------------------------|
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: ***@mailhost.epix.net (Jay A. Gertzman)
Newsgroups: alt.books.beatgeneration
Subject: The Basketball Diaries
Date: Wed, 03 Jan 1996 04:27:05 GMT
Can anyone help me with information or appreciation, criticisma, etc. of
Jim
Carroll's The Basketball Diaries? I don't know if it can be called a beat
work but the narrator is certainly contemptuous of social conventions,
all
kinds of sentiment and idealism, and what could be classified as
"sensible"
protection from disease and violence. Although the book is funny in
places,
I've rarely read anything more devoid of faith in the future or hope that
there is such a thing as meaningful human contact or mutual concern. What
other works of fiction or autobiography is this
work compared to? Is Carroll's later work of similar bleakness?
MY RESPONSE TO JAY:
First of all, I have published two articles on Carroll that may be of use
to you. These are:
Kuennen, Cassie Carter. "Jim Carroll: An Annotated, Selective, Primary
and Secondary Bibliography, 1967-1988." *Bulletin of Bibliography* 47.2
(1990): 81-112.
I will be happy to send you an updated version if you are interested.
Carter, Cassie. "The Sickness That Takes Years to Perfect: Jim Carroll's
Alchemical Vision." *Dionysos: Literature and Addiction Triquarterly*
(forthcoming in the next issue).
There are also about 20 Web pages dealing with Carroll. I will send you
a list if you are interested. (I'm hoping to have a Carroll home page up
and running in the near future, but until then . . .)
Secondly, I agree with your characterization of Carroll as "contemptuous
of social conventions, all kinds of sentiment and idealism, and what could
be classified as "sensible" protection from disease and violence." I have
always thought of this in terms of his "punk" code of ethics. I mean,
look at the world he is growing up in. (Remember, *Basketball Diaries* is
his actual diary; this stuff really happened.) He has to be tough just to
survive, and he has to be "punk" to transcend the crap his world is
constantly throwing at him. Two entries are especially important in
explaining Carroll's punk code: the "leap into the Harlem River" entry
(47-50) and the "presence" entry (89-90). He has to be able to endure
physical and emotional pain without even a wince; he's got to jump into
the river and risk being hit by a "shit line" to prove that he is worthy
of existence (think of the Harlem River as a metaphor for the world . .
.); and he's got to do it all with the grace of a cheetah, making it all
seem effortless--otherwise, he risks just making a fool of himself (like a
chimp).
As for Carroll's connection to the Beats, that's a complex issue. He
claims he never read *On the Road* until after he finished the *Diaries*,
but he indicates in the *Diaries* that he was reading Ginsberg and
Burroughs. After the *Diaries*, though, he became close friends with
Ginsberg and he knows most of the Beats personally. Kerouac even wrote a
blurb for the *Diaries*. Carroll does not consider himself a
Beat writer, but he thinks of himself as a poet, and his poetry
isn't Beat. I say his diaries and lyrics are Beat-Punk.
You also asked what works *Basketball Diaries* can be compared to. Well
. . . the ones that usually come up are *Catcher in the Rye* and
*Adventures of Huckleberry Finn*. I agree that it is very much a growing
up story. What's unique about it is that it's an actual diary, not a
fiction, and Carroll wrote it as things happened, not in retrospect.
And, of course, the content itself is pretty unique. Most people who
read it can't believe that such things could happen in a real life. It's
a real eye-opener, isn't it?
That brings me to your question, "Is Carroll's later work of similar
bleakness?" This begs the question, "Is *Basketball Diaries* bleak?" to
which the answer is No!!! There are bleak *moments* in all of Carroll's
works. In *Forced Entries*, as in *Basketball Diaries*, Carroll lands in
the bottom of the pit, crawls out, falls back in, crawls out again . . .
Just like in the song "City Drops Into the Night," though, there is
always a moment of light to redeem the darkness. That, I think, is
the most important (and most often missed) aspect of Carroll's work.
I strongly disagree with this statement: "I've rarely read anything more
devoid of faith in the future or hope that there is such a thing as
meaningful human contact or mutual concern." Jim Carroll is one of the
most optimistic writers I have ever had the pleasure to read. In *The
Basketball Diaries*, it is Carroll's faith in the future and his hope for
meaningful human contact that keeps him alive! He writes, repeatedly, "I
just want to be pure." He wants the Bomb to hold off just one more day so
he can play in a big game, so he can go to camp, so he can find out "if
I'm the writer I know I can be" (150-51). He dreams about a lame girl and
knows "there was an incredible love somewhere in my world . . ." (177).
(Listen to "I Want the Angel" for more on this idealism!) He gets tossed
into Rikers and thinks "about what a nice concept it is having a
'godmother' and 'godfather.'" He masturbates on his rooftop to experience
a pure communion with his body and the universe. He takes LSD, smokes
pot, shoots heroin in his search for beauty in an ugly world (notice how
beautiful and poetic his descriptions of hallucinations and nods are). Of
course, just about everything he tries in his search for beauty and love
backfires on him, but the fact is that it is his optimism, his search for
purity and beauty that keeps him going. Jim Carroll is no nihilist!
---------------------------------------------------
From: jim harris <***@sseinc.com>
Newsgroups: alt.books.beatgeneration
Subject: Re: The Basketball Diaries
Date: 3 Jan 1996 19:54:01 GMT
To: ***@mailhost.epix.net
Come on, the guy was only sixteen when he wrote it. It is fundamentally
comparable to the abject realism found in Zola or Henry Miller-To get a
real grasp of Jim Carrol as a beat is through his punk rock albums in the
early eighties I write your name, Catholic Boy and the absolute
masterpiece DRY DREAMS. He is a brilliant poet with an incredible sense
of irony and sound. All the elements that you quote as downgrading the
work are reasons it works so brilliantly at capturing the pathos of a
sixteen year old who would later become a great poet.
MY RESPONSE TO JIM: Hmmm. First of all, Carroll was 12 when he started
writing *The Basketball Diaries*, and the book ends when he is 15.
Second, he was already a poet by the time he was 15; he published his
first book of poetry, *Organic Trains*, when he was 17, maybe 16 1/2.
Third, it's interesting that you mention Henry Miller, since Miller was
very influential in Carroll's decision to do rock music (see just about
any interview from the early-to-mid-eighties). Fourth, I am very
surprised that you name *Dry Dreams* as a masterpiece . . . I like it too,
but I think you are probably the first and only person in the world to
call it a masterpiece. (I don't mean to insult you--I really am
surprised! It got panned all over the place when it came out!) Anyway,
that's just the little stuff. More to the point, I want to restate my
point that the negativity Jay finds in *Basketball Diaries*, and which you
say captures the pathos of a budding young poet, simply isn't there.
"Pathos" is an especially inappropriate word to use in relation to the
*Diaries* and Carroll's music (though I might use it--cautiously--to
describe some of *Forced Entries*). Carroll refuses to *ever* let anyone
pity him. No matter how horribly he suffers, no matter what happens to
him, he always turns it into a victory. What does he do when his shorts
rip, exposing his ass to a gym full of people? He moons everyone. What
does he do when a basketball scout lures him home with the promise of a
Flyers uniform, then starts molesting him? He punches the bastard and
leaves the room as a hero. What does he do when his habit has reduced him
to hustling men in public toilets? He transforms the scene into a
personal victory over every authority figure who has ever cut him down.
And how about his music? Eleven of the 40 kids who graduated with him
from his Catholic grammar school died in Vietnam. Teddy fell from the
roof; Cathy OD'd on reds and wine; Bobby died of leukemia; G-berg and
Georgie died of hepatitus; Eddie got slit in the jugular vein; Bobby OD'd
on Drano . . . on and on. "People Who Died" lists 13 of his friends who
died. Does this song create "pathos," though? No. Carroll celebrates
the fact that HE SURVIVED. Another good example is his recent poem "8
Fragments for Kurt Cobain." Most of the time when people talk about
Cobain, they romanticize him, make him the "hero of his generation," or
bemoan the loss of such a bright star. Carroll, on the other hand,
itemizes the parallels between his experience and Cobain's, saying he
understands what Cobain felt. But again, no pathos. He writes in the
seventh fragment, "But Kurt . . . / Didn't the thought that you would
never write / another song / Another feverish line or riff / Make you
think twice? / That's what I don't understand / Because it's kept me
alive, above any wounds."
I hope my point is well taken. I'm thrilled to see people talking about
Carroll and trying to make sense of his life and work. Yet when anyone
tries to paint him as a nihilist or producer of "pathos," I've got to
jump in. Part of the problem is that, biographically, Carroll perfectly
fits the stereotype of the tortured, decadent young artist . . . but as
an artist, he has spent his life transcending that stereotype. I think
that transcendence is what he should be recognized for.
Okay, I'll shut up now.
***@aol.com
Good stuff, found and reposted.
Will