Customer Reviews

The Lost Weekend (New York Classics)

5 star:		(7)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

For all the obeisance we pay to literature, it is remarkably rare for a novel to actually change, or help change, the culture. Nor is it necessarily, nor even likely, the "serious" books that effect the change. In terms of it's political impact, there may never have been a more important novel than Uncle Tom's Cabin, which is hardly the stuff of academic studies and literary criticism. Similarly, The Lost Weekend, though in many ways resembling nothing so much as a pulp fiction or a hardboiled noir, had a tremendous influence on American attitudes towards alcoholism and alcoholics, making it a surprisingly significant book.
Charles Jackson's semi-autobiographical tale follows the "promising" writer Don Birnam for one four day weekend as he descends into the depths of alcoholic despair and debauchery. Birnam's overly protective younger brother, Wick, goes out of town, leaving Don on his own in their apartment, even though he fears that, as usual, Don will take advantage of his independence to go on a binge. Wick has tried to limit the damage by controlling Don's allowance, from a family trust, but Don has perfected all kinds of scams for getting more and as the weekend progresses he comes up with some new ones. These include everything from stealing a purse to a rather pitiful attempt to find a pawn shop that's open on Yom Kippur, to hock his typewriter. Finally, he even steals and pawns his girlfriend's fur coat after she, Helen, tracks him down and tries nursing him through a period of delirium.
Besides the robberies from family, friends, and strangers, Jackson shows the effect of the drinking on Don's behavior towards others as he stands up a dinner date, takes advantage of a kindly local merchant, and unmercifully exploits Wick and Helen and their concern for him. He also shows the physical effects in Don's urgent need for drink, a brief stay at Bellevue (or a hospital very much like it) after falling down the stairs and fracturing his skull, and finally in the chillingly described delirium tremens and hallucinations.
Books, movies, and television have all made alcoholism a staple theme, but when Jackson wrote this book alcohol was merely a comic device in literature, and alcoholism was taken to be a function of the liquor itself and of the spiritual weakness of the drunk. Much of the book anticipates future findings about the true nature of the disease. In the first place, Don is not a skid row derelict. He's a cultured and talented young man from a decent family. Nor is he simply beholden to the bottle; his alcoholism is just a manifestation of much deeper psychological problems, in his case either repressed homosexuality or fear of the very possibility. His downward spiral began in college after an incident involving a crush on a fraternity brother and he reacts with horror when a male nurse at Bellevue propositions him. Even if he were to stop drinking, Don Birnam would still be a profoundly troubled man, would still be desperately ill.
Jackson also anticipates the concept of "enablers", which is what the folks around Birnam really are. Wick and Helen obviously care about him, but their willingness to cover for him and their unwillingness to confront him makes them participants in the problem. They and Don are kind of archetypal examples of dysfunction as the drinking has become the core of his existence, shutting out any capacity to relate honestly with others, and they have been reduced to lying, to him and to themselves, and compensating for his behavior, essentially putting his drinking at the core of their lives too.
In all of this Jackson was years ahead of his time. The book, which became a bestseller, and the excellent Billy Wilder film version, which studios were reluctant to make but which became a surprise hit and Academy Award winner, ushered in an era when attitudes towards alcoholism began to change and the hitherto hidden problem began to be addressed more honestly. But beyond this social impact, it's just a really good book, one that stands the test of time and which has probably never been bettered in its portrait of an alcoholic.
GRADE : A

For years, "The Lost Weekend" has been one of my favorite movies of the 1940s. Ray Milland's oily style never seemed better suited than it did to the role of Don Birnam, the story's inveterate sneaking drunk, and the movie was-- and remains-- surprisingly hard-hitting for a film of that period. I also promised myself for years that I would read Charles Jackson's book of the same title on which the movies is based, and I finally have. Jackson's book takes place entirely from the perspective of the main character, Don Birnam, and entirely inside that character's head. It contains relatively little action and dialogue (don't look for too many familiar scenes from the movie, especially that upbeat, optimistic ending), being mostly comprised of Birnam's endless introspection and rationalization of his self-destructive behavior, laced with undercurrents of homosexuality. This is never dull, however. Birnam is an intelligent, sharp, and very entertaining fellow, even if you can never trust him, and Jackson keeps you whipping right along, with only occasional lapses into literary and philosophical tedium. I have no biographical information about the author, but the story is told with such knowledge and insight that I would be very surprised if it is not, to some large extent, based on personal experience. This is a very thoughtful and penetrating read, which, I am happy to say, has not detracted from my enjoyment of the movie.

I read "The Lost Weekend" after seeing the fine movie starring Ray Milland. The movie gripped me, and hit close to home, but I felt that there was a quality to the writing that made me seek out the book (which was out of print at the time). Boy, am I glad I did. "The Lost Weekend" is an absolute literary masterpiece, capturing a 5-day drunk from an inveterate alcoholic with such chilling accuracy that it actually becomes a suspense novel: there's a scene where the protagonist, Don Birnam, is struggling up 6th avenue to pawn his girlfriend's coat, so he can buy more booze, that is so nail-bitingly horrific that I had to put the book down several times and catch my breath.

Charles Jackson has perfectly captured the madness, compulsion, fear, degradation of addiction and yet this book is unlike any other I've read about alcoholism--the only one that really rivals it is "A Fan's Notes" by Fred Exley, which is the *other* great masterpiece about drinking.

For those of you who might be interested in seeing the flip side of this book, ie, "the horror of sobriety," you might want to check out HALF EMPTY by Tim Hall, which chronicles the madness, fear, and antagonism of early sobriety in much the way this captured the horror of hardcore alcoholism.

This is, first and foremost, an addiction tale. It is a meditation on what alcohol does to the mind, the body, the spirit, and those around the alcoholic. It's similar Burroughs's "Junkie" and DeQuincey's "Confessions of an English Opium Eater," but lacks any of the glorification or knowing smirks of these two. It's not cheerful, and lacks much in the way of hopefulness -- except perhaps the care and understanding given the alcholic by those who love him.

The basic plot: the alcoholic's family goes away, leaving him alone to drink his weekend away. He drinks and drinks, then drinks some more. Bad things happen.

It is a well-written piece of literature, but I could not get away from seeing it as an addiction tale, something written by a social worker, or passed out at AA meetings. And I am not a social worker, nor even a drinker; I came to this book expecting a literary piece, but came away experiencing somehing of a didactic social commentary.

Still, even if didactic, it is a highly enjoyable read. The main character manages to be sympathetic. The story is repetetive but still engaging: the reader simultaneously wishes and doesn't wish for Don to get that one last drink Don is always chasing after.

Degradation and desparation abound in this novel. Don is witty, but this is not happy reading.

Ultimately, this is sort of a cult piece. It may be something to give to your kids to teach them the evils of drinking. Although enjoyable and interesting, it's not one of the "great" pieces of literature. It IS, however, the best direct treatment I have read of alcoholism. Alcoholism is often a subtext in literature, but rarely is it addressed as directly as Jackson addresses it.

Don Birnam is ecstatic when his brother Wick finally leaves their apartment for a long weekend in the country. Free of the constant watching, he is incredibly happy and feels even better after the second drink.

Throughout the five days, Don drinks, makes and forgets promises, discovers numerous brilliant ideas for writing and dismisses them just as quickly, loses track of time. His mind takes him on a guilt-ridden trip through past experiences and hallucinations: in the backseat of a carriage with young Mel Ostler, his expulsion from a fraternity due to an "unhealthy" attachment to one of the brothers, his failed romances with Anna and Helen. And, during one of his blackouts, he awakens in a hospital with a black eye. The stocky male nurse comforts him and confides that "I know who you are."

This novel does a fine job of detailing what happens to someone in the grips of alcoholism: the desparate need, the hallucinations, the blackouts, etc. It is fast-paced and you get the feeling that you are living every moment with Don. Kind of a roller coaster ride and worth every minute.

This book is definitely an instance of the book being better than the film, mainly because there is a wealth of inner dwelling in the book that cannot be captured on a screen. Jackson's prose starts out seeming a bit overblown, but quickly develops into a selfish, self-absorbed, and often offhandedly comical muse of the befuddled brain.

Charming gallantry, lies and fictions, excursions seeking pawn money, reminiscing of days past, each one poetically narrated by Jackson. His protagonist, Don Birnam, never once denies who or what he is. He's an alcoholic, and he serves only himself.

This book captures not just the degrading life of the alcoholic but the romanticism the addict infuses upon it. Even bungled up from a bad fall on the stairs, Don emphasizes his independence and self worth, at least internally, and leaves the hospital without treatment. He doesn't need anyone but himself, except when it comes to money to buy the booze.

Don knows he is charming, and knows he can hurt people by charming them, but he does it anyway because of the need for his own personal release. His mental escapades are astounding, his tales larger than life, his delusions more than reality: his highs are extraordinarily high and his lows are extraordinarily low. What we know now that we didn't know back when this book was written is how many addicts are bi-polar, but Jackson managed to capture this aspect of addiction long before science did.

'The Lost Weekend' isn't necessarily a fast-paced read, but rather something to nibble on when one is reflecting on what life has to dish out for us. For some, the monumental hurdles are mortgage and job promotions, for others, its finding those few bucks to get the next high.

'The Lost Weekend' is a must-have for your addiction collection, exploring the inner-space of addiction rather than the outer-space, or consequences, of it. The complacency, the drama, the edginess, the fulfillment, the tides: it's all here in the quick, inside look at a singular weekend. Enjoy!

Having seen the film I decided to read the book. The Hollywood ending of the film spured me on to find out how the book really ended. I found the book had much more depth than the film. Jackson's way of writing is so intimate that you can feel, hear and perhaps even smell Mr. Don Birman, who is the central character in the book. Jackon takes you inside his main character and slowly brings you down, down, down into the murcky depths of a troubled human being. It is obvious that the drinking is 'only' the manifestation of much deeper problems which Don Birman has. However the mental constructions which Don generates to explain, know (absolutely!), manipulate, justify, etc. his state of being, shows how an alcoholic survives as he swims in his sea of alcohol. It is a harrowing tale. This is a story about alcoholism written from the inside out. Read the book and learn how many alcoholism stories really end up. A true masterpiece.

In more than 60 years, I don't believe any book or film has so vividly captured the madness of alcoholism like "The Lost Weekend." The movie with Ray Milland is a chilling adaptation of Jackson's masterful novel. One weekend in an alcoholic's life, as he begs, lies and steals in order to begin a bender that will end in a funhouse horror descent into insanity.
Jackson's novel was brilliantly written, a voyeuristic look inside the mind and desperation of a drunk, who ping pongs between delusion and outright disgust about his habit. There are delirium tremens, falls down stairs, begging at the bars, the pawning of beloved items and absolute shame through it all. Jackson never tries to romanticize the disease or to add elements to it that are not already there. Alcoholism does not need a professional writer or movie maker to enhance its ugliness.
Ray Milland takes on the movie role with animation, anger and pathos that is so genuine, you will think him authentically drunk throughout the film. The viewer is alternately sad and sympathetic, disgusted and frustrated as the drunk weaves, stumbles and staggers into his spree.
Alcoholics cringe when they read this book or watch the movie. The circumstances are too recognizable, too real. The novel ends on a stark and gloomy note. The movie, which also drops the subtle homosexual undercurrent, chooses to end more optimistically.
Either way, both are as clear and chaotic as any portrayal of a chronic alcoholic can be. For this reason, "The Lost Weekend" will always stand as powerful and unflinching, much like the disease it depicts.

After having seen the movie on tv recently, I had to read the book it was based on. The stories varied in a number of places but particularly at the end. I won't give it away. Excellent read. As the saying goes, "one is too many and a thousands not enough". Buy this for someone you know who has a drinking problem.

Outstanding old copy of a book I have wanted for years. The Mad Men series (the saloon they frequent) caused me to renew my search.