Customer Reviews

The Knockout Artist

5 star:		(6)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

when all you have is one occupation, one talent, one desire and your denied the "glory" of being at the top you settle for what pays your bills. talents big and small can be made into a capital gaining venture but when you lose some bit of respect for yourself what is that you really have left

I am a huge Harry Crews fan. No one writes quite like this hyperrealistic gothic southern writer, and no one can create such bizarre characters in so few pages. Indeed, I have read "The Knockout Artist" several times, and always get something different out of it. As always, Crews concerns himself with the larger questions in life, especially how to maintain one's moral compass in a surreal amoral world (here its New Orleans), but he also creates characters as compelling as one can find in late 20th century fiction. You will root for the main character and never forget those that he meets along the way.

To address one of the other reviews, in Crews' world, it is hardly surprising that there are people who would pay handsomely to see someone knock himself unconscious. I am sure that in the underbelly of any major city, (which certainly would include New Orleans!) there are those who have desires far stranger than this.

I urge you to read this book. If you like it, run out and buy "A Feast of Snakes," which is just as good.

Sometimes to satirize one must approach the extreme, venture into the unbelievable or explore the ridiculous. I'm sorry one of the reviewers failed to grasp this. The Knockout Artist is one of the finest pieces of fiction ever written by a contemporary American author. It grabs at the heartstrings and yanks them out of tune, then proceeds to play Mariachi in dropped D tuning.
I laughed, I cried,....
In seriousness, Harry Crews is going to be one of those authors who will be taught in college courses fifty years from now, well after he's dead and gone. We are fortunate to be living at the same time as a legend.

Before the goodwill inspired by Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans took its share of body blows in literature as a decadent, amoral pit - sometimes self-inflicted (think the vampires of Ann Rice), and sometimes from an outsider looking in. How much is factual and how much is exaggerated for the sake of any particular story, I don't know, as my own experience with the city is limited to just passing through. I'd guess its probably about the same as any other large city, though New Orleans' reputation may also attract certain elements who are looking for ringside seats to some action that's just not available anywhere else.

If ringside is a little too close, and you'd rather have a few insulating layers between you and the seamier side of 'The Big Easy', then Harry Crew's 'The Knockout Artist' may be one place to start. Plot particulars aside, this is the story of a young man in the process of being chewed up and spit out by a big city. Except that by the time this story takes place, our fighter, Eugene Biggs, is no longer a fresh faced farm boy from South Georgia, and has become a willing, yet disgusted, participant in the 'kink' he has to partake in to survive. Thankfully, Crews leaves the sordid details to the reader's imagination. What he does do, rather skillfully I thought, was to dance that fine line between too much objectionable material, and so little that the reader can't understand the character's motivations to escape it. In other words, what's there is necessary for the story, neither more nor less.

Nor is there too much psychological rambling in 'Knockout' either. Eugene Biggs is fully aware that he is completely surrounded by people who are smarter than he is, the only problem is that they are hopelessly entangled in their own destructive appetites and addictions, and Eugene has become not much more than an expensive party favor for their diversions. Like any other bad habit, Eugene's guilt, shame, remorse, and desire for a place to belong keeps him locked into behavior he'd just as well leave behind forever.

Self knowledge is a wonderful thing, and Crews likes it. What finally gives Eugene the power to break out of his trap is when he is confronted with an in depth psychological profile, authored without his knowledge. The result is like shock treatment. No longer content to let the stream of life take him where it will, and now able to leap over previously unscalable mental hurdles with a single bound, Eugene resolves to regain his emotional sobriety at any cost.

Crews writes in a plain style, like killer jabs and rabbit punches to the gut. Eugene Biggs may not be an educated man, but he can set it down the way he sees it, and it doesn't take a boxer to know the difference between a ten count on the canvas and refusing to step inside the ring at all. Crews gives us a wild ride through New Orleans and the mind of a sadder but wiser young man in "The Knockout Artist", but fails to ever deliver the big blow. Call it a T.K.O. and experience it for yourself.

Southern literature as only Crews could write it. If you're looking for something with some dark humor, an interesting plot, and dialogue you have to pay attention to, then look no further.

Where to begin, well, with Crews that can be a story unto itself. What the Knockout Artist achieves is what great writers do -- make you feel something! I am a huge Crews fan and this book for a fan is essential. Crews has fun and takes us on a great journey into the heart through the mind of his protagonist. Characters that are flesh and bone, human, worth feeling for. There is a simple reality -- the cruelty of being a fighter...boxing? No. Life. That is what the Knockout Artist does, take us on a ride and show us a little slice of life that many that simply go through the motions may never see. Do you simply report back to your suburban house from your clean cubicle? Those of us that LIVE, KNOW and see it everyday, the thin line between the cop and killer, or the one bad break that separates ourselves and the homeless guy in the gutter. The simple guy that has what he has, his own two hands that he can shape into a fist and make some dough with. If you're as twisted as me, you'll laugh your ass off and enjoy the ride. Mr. Crews will take you on that ride your looking for. You're in good hands with him, but you're going on that ride and you can hear his muwaaaaaahhhhhhh all the way as he loves exposing us to that freak flag he loves to fly. Are you inflicted with the same sickness, embrace it and love it? Let Crews play piper and take you down the road to smack down. He's capable and you're in good hands here.

If you are a casual reader unfamiliar with Crews, go with Feast of Snakes, or better yet, do us all a favor and move along altogether. There's a real business of writing at work here. Thinking, writing, doing-man work. But if you know and love Crews, that shaved and scared guy with EE Cummings scrawled on his arm, and need more, well dine well on The Knockout Artist. Mr. Crews' pen strokes will reward those that KNOW. And yeah, Mr. Death loves his blue-eyed boy!

Harry Crews pulls no punches. Often, when I'm reading other books, I get the impression that authors are censoring themselves, or that they aren't really staring life in the face and taking its account. With Harry Crews, I never get that impression. He writes loud and doesn't back down. And, as a result, the book's story goes exactly where it should, the characters become what they should, and everything falls remarkably into place.

This book doesn't seem to start with a clear vision, but because of the writing's drive, the coherency of the plot, and the moral struggles of the characters, the novel comes together and produces an excellent ending that fits the rest of the book like a glove.

I don't recommend this book to everyone. It's got a lot of vulgar language and vulgar topics. The characters' impressions of the world often made me uncomfortable. This is not a light read. Instead, this is a compelling read, something that will beat you across the head, and maybe knock you out.

Welcome to the world of Harry Crews: hypermasculine, brutal, and often depraved. Even though the pugilist Eugene Biggs has his cross to bear, he is ultimately an unsympathetic lout. Unlike A Feast of Snake's Joe Lon Mackey who is a mean and cruel son-of-a-bitch but also pathetic and out of control, Biggs is simply insufferable.
For instance, his relationship with the pompous but troubled Charity (Crews reveals his debt to O'Connor here)
isn't even love/hate: it's simply hate. They only seem to connect through sex, and though Charity has her ulterior motives, it's hard to believe that she would tolerate such abuse. And Charity, like so many of Crews'
females, is leggy, thin and beautiful. Nothing wrong with that--these ugly worlds can use a little beauty--but the fashion model motif wears thin after awhile.
In the end, the novel is preachy and puritanical. Certainly New Orleans has its dark underbelly and those who "check their morals at the door," but the descriptions are over-the-top and not entirely believable. In addition,
Jacques' Cajun dialect is extremely wearisome. This novel is worth reading, but as with much of his work, Crews'
captivates with shock and sensationalism--a limited world view.

Crews is such a fine writer. Spare, Smart, Willing to look at people that others turn away from. His prose is on par with Jim Thompson or Chester Himes. It ain't pretty, but it is true and engaging.

Are we really supposed to believe that the main character is acutally paid money to knock himself out as a public spectacle?

I admit, I gave up on this book part way through. I got bogged down in one of the many lavish discriptions of New Orleans banquet food, and gave up. The book seems to have been written as a prank against the reader.

This book is out of print for good reason, in my opinion.