Customer Reviews

Roomanitarian

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

 

 

This 2005 work from Henry Rollins is different from some his more familiar journal-based works, like "Get in the Van" and "Black Coffee Blues." It is a collection of topical works, quite wide-ranging in both tone and subject.

One of the two main threads to be discerned in "Roomanitarian" is Rollins' adoption of another persona to explore various ideas and personalities. For example, separate sections of the chapter "Ended" have him writing first as a plastic-surgery-addicted inhabitant of a gated community, and later as a Russian citizen comparing recent American history to life under Stalin.

These vignettes provide a dizzying and poignant read. Imagine Kierkegaard if he had been born to a single runaway teen and been left for dead in a dumpster behind an L.A. McDonalds.

There are hints among these short pieces of greater things to come. Two must-read sections of "Ended" have Rollins wielding a command of fiction-craft that is much deeper and mature than one would suspect from his journal-based works.

The first is a short story that begins with a man and woman on plane discovering common interests, but which develops through surprising shifts of perspective. Another extended section has Rollins evoking a stark, David-Lynchian atmosphere as a man's everyday surroundings become increasingly ominous. My hope is that these portend a novel from Rollins at some point.

Another main strand through "Roomanitarian" addresses this question: How can a guy who draws sellout crowds to his gut-busting spoken word manage to bring his talent for humor to the page without trying to duplicate his live act? The answer: satire.

Rollins' written work has always provided source material for his talking gigs, but hearing or going to the gigs was always necessary for really catching the humor in his stories. He was never one to include the little one-liners and non-stop quipping that career humor-writers do. The fun was in the live delivery.

But now comes "Roomanitarian." Through the use of satire he has managed to write a book that is funny without seeming forced. None of that Dave Barry insert-punchline-here hackery.

Satire is criticism and it is also humor. Rollins is a critic of culture and politics, but he has never set himself up as a great arbiter of truth. You read his criticism somewhat like you would listen to a crude but shrewd guy down the street. There are gems of wisdom, but you don't expect some grand treatise.

However, with Rollins, your "guy down the street" is one who has packed about three lifetimes into one. The signal to noise ratio is accordingly much higher.

Both in the satirical pieces and in the fictional ones, readers will discover a political edge in "Roomanitarian." From his first Reagan-era book "2.13.61," Rollins has always had a few nasty things to about those in power. In this latest work the anger comes to a white-hot head. In the "Letters to whitey," "To Ann Hitler," and in several sections of "Ended," Rollins applies a keen blade to the throat of the Bush administration and its supporters. He seems to channel the anger of millions of us who felt betrayed by the farcical Iraq War and 2004 election.

Here is a quote from a standout Jeremiad in "Ended," clearly directed at Bush: "Do you know what parents consider themselves when they bury their sons? Failures. Will you admit that you never knew what you were doing and you were never ready to give what you made others give? That you are and always will be a coward? A weakling who preaches strength, who sends in the best to do the worst." (p.8)

"Roomanitarian" is an important part of Rollins' output in many ways. It will be seen as a transitional book for Rollins. It will be a book in which one can discern several lines of his later development maturing.

There's no comparing this book, really, to "Broken Summers", Henry's last book, because the two are so vastly different in content, since "Roomanitarian" is more sparse and prose oriented; the kind of thing we knew from his earlier book, "Solipsist". At just under 200pgs, I do admit I wish it were longer but the content is well worth it, packed into such a small volume. It seems as he gets older, Rollins thins out his work, packing more and more into less and less with better results.

Perhaps not as great as earlier prose-style books of his when he was younger, this is still a worthy addition, though maybe not as appealing to newcomer's. I'd suggest going backwards and starting with the original "Black Coffee Blues" and working up through this book to get the full effect and range of his style but if you're already a fan, by all means, put this in your collection, you won't be dissappointed.

Henry Rollins: literary mastermind. He describes life in the rigid details that rip across our skin on a daily basis.

And now, for a favorite quote:
"Happiness left me when I saw that things end. That your desire, passion, and commitment don't mean much. You're just left to walk through the debris of your effort. What was a beautiful machine eventually turns into an ignored relic."

First I want to apologize to Henry..I was the one {the only one} who gave Henry's other book Broken Summers a one star rating..I was "blinded by the right" at the time and I was believing the lies we were fed about the war and other things..but now after snapping out of my ignorance I feel Broken Summers is one of his best books..

Roomanitarian is a return to his style of his other masterpiece Solipsist..This is the kind of book you want to use a highlighter on..I wanted to remember the unique way of Henry's social commentary and observations..Classic Rollins!..A fantastic read and as always Henry delivers!..Also,watch The Henry Rollins Show on IFC

In his second foray into fiction, Henry Rollins does not disappoint. From his scathing treatment of the Bush administration to his nutty faux paean to Anne Coulter Rollins, is by turns witty brutal and unforgiving. If you are already a Rollins fan you'll find his explorations into human darkness as (if not more) compelling and powerful as they always have been. Those new to Rollins work, hold on and enjoy the ride. Overall this is a good read with tight pacing, an interesting structure and the mental image of Barbara Bush saying "Boo-YA!" alone is worth the price of admission.

I've followed Henry Rollins from his time with Black Flag. I've been reading his books since the 90's. I've seen him with his band in concert, spoken word dates, and his watered down comedy central special.

This book is a big disappointment. The majority of this book is a ripping of the Bush Administration. Whether or not it deserves the literary bashing that Henry lavishes on it, is beside the point. Henry does make some good points but the vitriol contained in the book seems to go against all of his previous works on hate. He has fully immersed himself in his hate of the Bush Administration; if I wanted to read this there are a lot of other (and better) books I could have spent my money on.

I appreciate his work and while I can't hold this book with the same esteem as "Black Coffee Blues" and "Art to Choke Hearts / Pissing in the Gene Pool" it has some good points.

This is the first of his written works that I have read, it is definitly dark but still extremely good.

Here is yet another great work by Henry. Some out there don't like it, as they are unable to understand where the author is coming from. A worthy read.

Henry Rollins is one of my favorite writers. If you want to experience one of the funniest, most insightful and unique literary voices in the English language, read his "Black Coffee Blues", "Smile You're Traveling" or "Nights Below the Treeline". Avoid, at all costs, "Roomanitarian". I cringe as I write this, but it's only true. Rollins' latest effort is a halfbaked fiasco.

"Roomanitarian" is essentially a book of rants. That's problem #1. Rants are the literary equivalent of tabasco sauce: a little goes a long way. Reading this book is like drinking a whole bottle of tabasco. While the ranting is mixed in with some gentler, humorous pieces, Rollins spends 90% of the book in full-on "rant" mode. The relentless finger-pointing and judging with a capital "J" get old really fast. It's too much of a sometimes-good genre.

Then there are Rollins' attempts at satire. He can often be a brilliant satirist---his take on the L.A. celebrity "culture" in "Nights Below the Treeline" is one example. But in "Roomanitarian", you can file the parodies under three subject headings: "Too Easy", "Yesterday's News" or "Ill-conceived". The piece envisioning Rosie O'Donnell as a mother pig lying on her side, as a group of Scientologists nurse from her teats, was a chore to read. Equally belabored was "Letter to Ann Hitler with Love", a pro-liberal spitwad flung at conservative critic Ann Coulter. "Letters to Whitey", an anti-racist diatribe that tries to turn the tables on crackers by making them the victims of their own pretzel logic, was damned by polite applause when Rollins prevued it at a talking show of his that I attended---in 2003. It's almost as if this book had been sitting in a drawer somewhere since then.

Satire is a dish best served fresh, hot and cooked to perfection. O'Donnell's program went off the air over 2 years ago. Coulter's "Pat Buchannon's brain in a Barbie Doll's body" act went stale at least that long ago. Nobody, not even the most skilled satirist, could do a better job of exposing the pitifulness of these topics than O'Donnell, Coulter and Tom Cruise have already done themselves. There is no topic on Earth that deserves bashing more than racism does and Rollins, admirably, has always been vehemently anti-racist. But if you're anti-racist, shouldn't that imply opposing racism in all forms---even racism against whites? In "Roomanitarian", Rollins' lampoonery arrives too late to be relevant and aims too low to score.

At some point in their careers, talented authors often stumble. "Roomanitarian" is Henry Rollins' first literary stumbling-block. I'm sure he'll soon recover with a future collection of astute and witty observations. I would, though, advise him to consider abandoning the rant genre, as he seems to have exhausted the form.

My advice to veteran Rollins readers: save that $12.00 for his next book. To newcomers: spend that $12.00 on "Black Coffee Blues" and witness a truly original author at work. Bypass "Roomanitarian".

Like many avid readers, I am also a budding writer, and when I consider the books that influenced me to take up pen and paper, I must count "Solipsist" by Henry Rollins in that list. While I didn't agree with each and every sentiment in the landmark "Solipsist," I think it displayed a tense, brutal honesty and brittle rancor in its poetic and uncomfortable narratives that challenged how I viewed literature. Given his delving into multiple media, Rollins is a leading social satirist and commentator, and a very vital artist. Even so, with a heavy heart, I cannot recommend "Roomanitarian."

Most of the opening material was enjoyable for me - the back cover is not misleading his fans when it says the book demonstrates a return to the feel and focus of "Solipsist." I was glad to see the odd prose-poem-narratives with blunt, unflinching emotional and intellectual outbursts - the opening line or lines in bold text, as if each of these differentiated sentences is a sort of title to the rest of the paragraph containing them. Here, however, it doesn't feel as groundbreaking or intense as "Solipsist," but it's at first comfortable and welcome - sometimes returning to a classic style rewards one's readers as much as forging ahead. If you're not a major enthusiast of these poetic and forceful rants, you may find them intriguing novelties but only in passing. However, if you were bowled over by "Solipsist," you'll find them familiar and enjoyable, if a bit predictable.

Predictability is a curse of much of "Roomanitarian," which feels a bit forced, or seems like glimpse into the "b-side" material of Rollins' literature. He's crafting poetry, and firing off rants, but it's nothing we haven't seen, and at times feels too close to what we saw in previous works. Still, these feelings of bemusing familiarity didn't arrive for me until after I finished each piece - Rollins' gripping rancor keeps you tracing line after line until you take a breather and realize it's nothing too new, or realize perhaps that you don't care for it as executed here. It's like a well-spoken politician or a fiery street preacher - you may find yourself drawn into this new section of Rollins' world, but once you stop to take stock of your surroundings, you may not be quite as impressed.

But the real strike against the book is "To Ann Hitler with Love." I could speak of how it's the sort of obscene, cruel material mocking a thinly-veiled portrayal of Ann Coulter (heck, it's not even mildly-veiled) that she would want to come from the Far Left so she can convince her already-converted fanbase they're really under attack (Rollins' parody title for her book plays to this idea, and is a rare bright spot in the section). And even though I think Coulter is just a well-executed opportunist turning the tables on the equally vicious and off-color humorists the Left in the United States claim, I don't think she deserves this vulgarity, and I can't make excuses for it. I'm sure (let me sound bitter here) I could try to cover for Rollins like the fanbases of Limbaugh or O'Reilly do when their boys overstep the line. But, I won't.

"To Ann Hitler with Love" is jusr vulgar, childish, and beneath Rollins. Yes, he's ranged to the lurid before - but to constantly talk of Coulter's genitals is just pointless and disgusting and offensive. Yes, this woman does have a sick sense of humor herself - but that's an indictment on her, not a support for Rollins. He stooped to a low level, and both he and the edgy voices of the Left will suffer for it when it makes them not look erudite but look like giggling teenages spraypainting phallic symbols in a bathroom stall.

Rollins is still in my mind a valuable writer - one can appreciate Nabokov's "Pale Fire" without having to praise the uncomfortable elements of his "Lolita." One can divorce the overt racism of C.S. Lewis' "The Chronicles of Narnia" or J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" or H.P. Lovecraft's "The Horror at Red Hook" and appreciate the mastery they employed in those works or elsewhere. But one should not make excuses for the failings of said authors, and I cannot try to defend Rollins here.

Rollins has lost some degree of respect from this admiring reader, who thought him above this level of needless vulgarity and tripe that fails to make a real point.

If you loved "Solipsist," do browse the book for the sections that recall that book's wonder and tension. But spend your money elsewhere - this is not worth it.