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16 of 19 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
A Bizzare, Atypical Diary of a Dope Fiend, December 1, 2003
This review is from: How to Stop Time: Heroin from A to Z (Paperback)
I am torn on this book, absolutely torn. Marlowe's writing style is wonderful. She is obviously very intelligent. The problem *I* have here is that what she went through almost doesn't sound real. As in, I am not saying that she made up the fact that she got high. But, as a former heroin addict, I almost think that she either a) is exaggerating how many times she did heroin or b) is lying when she says she hasn't touched it, hasn't even THOUGHT ABOUT IT for years. It just doesn't sound real. And yeah, I know that everyone has a different experience with heroin. But usually not THAT much different. And something that worries me about this book is that it will encourage people to try it. I wish it came with a disclaimer. All that aside, I do think Marlowe's book is a decent piece of literature. Except for the fact that she rambles about things that are completely uninteresting and that have NOTHING to do with stopping time or doing heroin. And some of these anecdotes are really really really boring. Some of them are the kind of stories your grandmother tells you every time she sees you that weren't interesting or funny or lesson-filled the first time but you are forced to sit there and pretend that they are AND not say you've heard them thirty-seven times before. Just an opinion though. I'd leaf through it in the bookstore to make sure you'll like it before you buy it.
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12 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
A trenchant tale of post-modern life -- not just about drugs, September 21, 1999
By A Customer
As a rule, I'm not all that interested in "the literature of addiction," but this book works as memoir, as cultural criticism, as philosophy. Or simply as a story -- of a remarkable woman's struggle with her demons and the demons of post-modern life. The dictionary format (which she seems to have chosen because, like heroin, it "stops time") doesn't keep you from getting wrapped up in the story. On the contrary -- like the similar device in Pavic's Dictionary of the Khazars -- it sets the story in a hall of mirrors, so that the implications stretch endlessly in all directions. My only worry about the book is that Marlowe may be TOO remarkable -- that her obvious energy and strength of character make her an atypical addict, and throw doubt on her generalizations. But she claims that a lot of the other heroin addicts she knew were like her in many ways, and maybe she's right. Besides, I don't suppose de Quincey or Burroughs or Malcolm Lowry were "typical" addicts, either.
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48 of 64 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
I can't believe I bought this book at all, and full price!, November 26, 1999
Ann Marlowe is no authority on the subject of heroin, and therefore "how to stop time -- heroin from A to Z" is a complete misnomer as a title. It implies that she has some credibility, and can authoritatively dissect and make sense of aspects of heroin use, abuse, and the heroin users. This book could more aptly be called "my little life -- the heroin years -- from A to Z." Marlowe states she was never a fully addicted person, admitting to using up to 2 bags on her using days (she took days off), yet she dares to outright dismantle the claims of those that have truly experienced addiction to its depths. She looks down her "Roman" nose at women who neglect children due to serious drug use, or people who are driven by the need to sate their addiction to commit crimes, because she herself has never had to do so. Maybe this is because she was never an addict. With her credentials, her next book could be on auto repair. Afterall, she did have a car, (most likely for longer than her "heroin habit"). She may have even known a mechanic or two. This would certainly put her in the position to make an equally valuable critical analysis on the subject. A self-proclaimed authority on heroin addiction (where did she get the nerve?), Marlowe vascillates between identifying herself with the "junkie," and distancing herself from them as the pitiful "other." Her book is confusing, and ultimately disappointing. Anything redeeming about it was underdeveloped -- like her avoidance of clearly answering why she used heroin at all (see "cool," "hidden," "fraud" -- oh, that one's not in there.) I am particularly disheartened (read: disgusted) at how she attacks those that have freed themselves from an addiction she cannot even relate to, and then pointedly mocks them on both counts; for being addicted, and for recovering. I was hoping this book would be of some use to me as a researcher of addiction among middle class women, but regrettably, it was more of a disjointed, self-indulgent memoir of a woman who brushed elbows with troubled, talented people, never really revealing herself at all. The title was a real bait and switch. By the end of the book, all I had gleaned was that Ann Marlowe is a Harvard grad, Bergdorf's shopper, name dropper (albeit vague, and what's the point of that?), part time jock, is emotionally frozen, and is a woman who for some totally unclear reason wants to forever align herself in the annals of heroin user history. But she is MUCH BETTER THAN THEY ARE. Thank God for Ann. She infiltrated the ranks of heroin users, and came back to tell us how hideous they were. Just in case you thought heroin addiction was glamorous. I think this is another case of a fashion victim to the "junkie chic." (see "inside cover")
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