18 of 26 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Fab!, September 11, 2011
Literally got a contact high from the pages. Brave, honest, funny and thought-provoking, Shedding Skin is Ward's account of his early travails in Haight Ashbury (and other parts). He draws the reader into chaos, delusion, humor, criminality and the human condition on an intimate level. I truly recommend this book. It makes one look at the political climate, the social agenda, and ultimately, at one's own choices. I felt such a close psychic and emotional proximity to the world then and the world now. Pick up this book. Read it. It will blow your mind!
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11 of 26 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
Tripe--a waste of good trees (then) or e-ink (now), October 28, 2011
So like Woooooow, man... this book is like... I mean, you know... it's like... like... total garbage, man. Like, you know... garbage, man. You don't have to see it, man... 'cause you know what it is and where it is just from like... the smell. You dig?
There couldn't be a more succinct novel which showcases exactly why those glorious days of flower power, peace, free love, rampant drug use, anarchy, and revolution were doomed from the start. The only saving grace for people who lived this lifestyle is the fact that AIDS was not a part of the equation; had it been, many in this generation would have died in their 30s or 40s, victims of their need to not conform. The only saving grace for this book is that it was written during those tumultuous times, so it seemingly reflects the inane ramblings of the day.
The fact that it won a National Endowment for the Arts award in 1972 is no great mystery, what with the liberal mindset of the times and the willingness to showcase pap like this to try and create the idea that this sort of nonsense was normal.
You know what I mean, man... It's like "Piss Christ" (a 1987 photograph of a Crucifix submerged in a glass of the photographer's urine) being hailed by this same institution as an important work of art. Different decade, same stupid decisions out of people claiming to represent US. Groovy, I mean like... mind-blowin' stuff man.
I thought that perhaps this book was an aging Hippie's current deluded ramblings about the self importance of his jaded past; but I find that in reality, it's worse. These words were written in the middle of those times and are therefore somewhat excusable, but they have now been dredged back up to highlight the deluded ramblings of that now aging Hippie.
Whoa... May the circle of life be unbroken.
Look, every one of us who lived through those times has stories to tell but most of us have moved beyond bragging about our shortcomings (and youth-induced lack of brains) and would be mortified to rehash our sordid pasts as if they were some holy grail of could-have-beens.
I guess it comes down to what makes you more proud... the ignorance of your youth, or the nature by which you conduct yourself in the present.
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