Customer Reviews

Sound on Sound

5 star:		(12)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

I was totally involved in NYC scene pre-1980 (after that I was in Japan for a while) so judging from what I know about what went on there after what was if I do say so myself the golden age of NYC rock (ca. 1974-79), this book seems pretty accurate in its depiction of a crummy third rate band going through the motions. That's just the story part. The book is told in this fantastic, difficult to describe way. Very parsed, if that's the right word. Each section corresponds to a track on a multi-track tape, "Basic Rhythm," "Vocals," "Solo," etc. Cool, if a little confusing. You're never sure what happened. Very unlinear and kind of cool and abundant in footnotes and self-referential asides way way before Wallace or Eggers or those guys. Definitely a must-read--even if you hate its guts, which about two people I've told about it ended up doing.

"Only one left in stock!" Each time I visit this lonely, windswept page I notice that superfluous legend, and I think to myself, "My! No one's bought that last copy yet." It must be a year or two since it first appeared here, like a sign advising of the maximum legal occupancy of a room in some Last Man on Earth movie. How ironic!, you're supposed to think. But Amazon adds insult to injury by advising, "Order soon (more on the way)." Oh, Amazon! Must you rub it in? We all know that nobody wants Christopher Sorrentino's little book, except maybe his mother. Only one left in stock! Why not just say, "We're almost out of this bomb! It's so insignificant it's not even worth paying the parcel post rate to return it to the publisher! We just keep it around, put hot things on it when we're sitting around the break room table having lunch, me, Terry, Glenn, Little Chris, Mike--the whole shipping room gang knows which books you can and cannot use as a trivet. Can't: Jonathan Safran Foer. Can: Curtis White. Can't: Dave Eggers. Can: Alex Shakar. Can't: Rick Moody. Well, OK, maybe it's OK to serve piping hot Chef Boy-Ar-Dee Ravioli off a copy of PURPLE AMERICA." Poor SOUND ON SOUND. I think it must be the loneliest book at Amazon. Here's ESTUARINE AND MARINE BIVALVE MOLLUSK CULTURE, by Winston Menzel. That's ranked around 1,300,000th--about 700,000 ahead of SOUND ON SOUND. Is SOUND ON SOUND really more boring than a book that retails for $359 and begins, "The soft-shell clam Mya arenaria (Linnaeus) (family Myidae; common names: soft-shell clam, long-necked clam, nannynose, sand gaper, steamer clam) has an elongate, elliptical shell (Figure 1), with a large siphonal gape at the elongate posterior end and a small gape anteriorly." And how about XYLEM STRUCTURE AND THE ASCENT OF SAP, by Melvin T. Tyree. Sounds like a Vollmann title, almost. It begins, "The development of upright land plants depended on the development of a water conducting system." Everyone knows that. Rank? About 800,000th--1.2 million ahead of SOUND ON SOUND.  How about intubation? Here's COMMUNICATION AND SWALLOWING MANAGEMENT OF TRACHEOSTOMIZED AND VENTILATOR DEPENDENT ADULTS. No quote, but the front matter promises to avoid a "cook book" approach, thank goodness. Also ranked around 800,000th. Is there nothing poor, poor SOUND ON SOUND can outsell? I don't understand it. Let me look.....................................................................................Ah! Jerome Charyn's DEATH OF A TANGO KING (#2,337.737). Of course, Jerome Charyn has written about forty-five books, so even his most avid readers might be forgiven for overlooking a title here and there. Sorry, lonely SOUND ON SOUND. You're still the champ.

This book is about a band that could never make it in the rock scene in NY (or did they?), and the author tirelessly rips them appart. I had many problems with this book. Number one, isn't it a little easy to rip on a band that never made it. It's a little like picking on the smallest kid in school. It's easy, but why bother. Second, Sorrentino writes the book in a strange and creative structure. But, a cool structure doesn't make up for a dull story. Most of the book is about one night when the band just plays at a club. Pulp Fiction wasn't a good movie just because it had an interesting structure, it was an interesting story to begin with.

The worst chapter is Dub 3 (Vocals) where every character is asked the same three questions. Again, these are not interesting questions, or answers. It's just people rambling. I know some people liked it, and I thought I would like it too, but in the end it just sounds like a talented writer with no direction or motivation.

...because it's a first edition. The galley for Sorrentino's next novel, "Trance", hit my overloaded desk a few months ago and floated right to the top. Couldn't put it down. So I picked up a copy of this. It's not as good: raw, Sorrentino's still working through his influences. But there's a real verve to it, a sort of "why not?" quality to its non-linear, fractured brand of storytelling, a dedication to a concept that you don't see too often in the literary arts any more. "Trance" is a much more traditionally told, and probably more satisfying, story than "Sound on Sound", so I expect this edition will sell out soon (sorry Parsippany). Grab the first edition while you can.

...and I'll send some dough even before the test results are back. Thanks for your continued interest in my work.

For many a long year I've visited one of my favorite pages at Amazon, that of the poor but proud SOUND ON SOUND. And yet, though the actual dustjacket of the book is a grey of startlingly rich hue and a subtle blue (so subtle it's actually difficult to see when at a bookstore, if this wonderful postmodern romp were actually carried in bookstores!), Amazon persists in displaying the cover in ennui-inducing black and white. Perhaps it's Amazon's way of mutely signalling to each of the many thousands of literature lovers who make a pilgrimage to the SOUND ON SOUND page that this often quite brilliant book--a difficult book that rewards repeated rereadings such as I've subjected it to in my spartan garret room--is really just a fictional exploration of the multiple shades of grey that make up any interpretation of an event. Yes, when I'm not reading my gun magazines and staring wistfully at magazine photographs of public figures or seeking out my pleasure like any lonely man in the red light district of my fashionably downtrodden city, I'm reading and rereading and rereading yet again my "well-worn" and "dogeared" copy of this overlooked and underappreciated gem. I identify with Sorrentino. I think about him very often when I'm not packing my pathetic twice-used brown paper bag with my habitual lunch of meatloaf and Karo syrup sandwiches, two Nutter Butter Sandwich Cookies, a tasty Snapple Beverage, and a few heavy caliber slugs of the type that are fired from high-velocity rifles. I think about him when I'm not scotch taping candid photos of unsuspecting passersby to the large wall in my living room. I think about him when I'm not trolling the internet looking for sites of the variety commonly described as "Upskirt & Voyeur." And when I see that Amazon has failed to provide The Great Giuseppe with a full-color reproduction of the jacket of his first important work, I say to myself, "Yehudi, it's time to take action!"

Really, it's true. Like the old saying goes, if I could teach myself Portugese I would never leave the house. While I must leave my compass screwed into its niche at the end of my trusty commando knife, purchased from "Oriental Imports" at the mall when I was 12, that is to say many years ago, and certainly not yesterday, I am not lost. No sir, these things are not lost on me with or without that compass, even as I travel, knifeless across these fine United States, chilled by the long shadow cast by Borges. Sound on Sound huh? Well, I know this much-- it shouldn't be left to wither, nor disappeared in the night like so many Arab-Americans in recent years.

We are very happy to report that this book is available in the small trim, for older fingers like mine. I find it very difficult that every time a publisher wants to announce for all to see that they feel strong enthusiasm for one of their titles they bind it in the 6"x9" trim size. That is very difficult for a senior to hold, particularly if she suffers from occasional bouts of rheumatoid arthritis. I've held many a large stiff thing in my hands over the past six decades, but hardcover books are getting to be too much for me. While I question Dalkey's decision not to bring this wonderfully portable and holdable book out in paperback, I'm delighted that their parsimony has made it possible for me to hold the book throughout the seven months it's taken me to get through the thing.

Now available, Sound on Sound T-Shirts, from Sound on Sound enterprises. Please note that they come in three sizes: Sm, Me, and "Known Adulterer." We find the third size to be roomy, capacious, expansive, and ready for just about anything. Take it on the road, eat melting chocolate off someone's heaving torso in it, or simply use it as a torniquet to stanch all sorts of arterial bleeding. Just click on the product link and you'll be taken to a simply yet elegantly designed commercial website where small men smelling of lemony antiseptic will take your measurements. Thanks, all.

Most of the reviews I see here concentrate on the formal aspects of this postmodern honey, and while these are likely the most immediately salient features of the book I would have to say that in this nonlinear, postmodern day and age it's time for us all to get over it and just accept that nonlinear, disruptive narrative is here to stay, in movies and tv, in music, and in our novels, whatever we happen to think about it. Personally, I found that after struggling through "House of Leaves" this book was a breeze by comparison.

I was curious to read this book after reading three stories of Sorrentino's in a row, two exerpts from his upcoming novel in two different quarterlies, and another piece that appeared online. I can say that his style has changed quite a bit from the time when "Sound on Sound" was published (1995). "Sound on Sound" reads very much like the work of a young guy, it is all verbal aggression and grandstanding and going for the tour-de-force whenever possible. He hits the mark a lot, but misses pretty often too. Still, the book is whithering: Sorrentino's view of fame, of living in a world where fame and pre fab outrage account for everything, excuse everything, amount to everything, his critique of pop culture as mass produced garbage that places so called critics on retainer to justify and valorize it, his horror over the diminution of the humanity of his characters as they enter and are transformed by the Reagan era.

If this book were written with a little more polish (because in that sense too it is the work of a young guy), it would be considered a masterpiece. I don't know if it would have gotten published by a big publisher, because of the pomo stuff (then again, if "House of Leaves" could, then anything could...), but it might have. But just as it is, it is a gem, a work well worth savoring. I am really looking forward to his next book.