Life Interrupted - Spalding Gray
yet another book from Bill's pile o books.
Spaulding Gray is one of those people that I always associate with New York performance art, along side Laurie Anderson. The first time I came across him was via Swimming To Cambodia the video. A few years later I read it. I always made it a point to watch Letterman when he was on.
I thought he was handsome (in a similar way to Sam Sheppard), deep, dark, witty, wry, hysterically funny. But never in an In Your Face way. Swimming to Cambodia had this cadence that drew you in and tossed you around the entire time. He makes you think, he impells you you follow along and you can't help but follow where he leads.
So why haven't I picked this up until now? I don't know. Bill read it a long time ago, he loved it. But today I did. I've only read about half of it before I took a nap. Throughout the entire reading I had this odd mantra circling behind the words. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.
It made me sad to read Life Interrupted. I stopped at the first Obit (Laurie Anderson). He was so fucking there in his monologues that just knowing he's absent is profound to me. How trite of me to say that it feels like he's a friend who's allowed me to see how he sees, but wierdly thats how it feels. It's the human condition I suppose. We're so bombarded with television as a model that one often believes everyone but you lives life by the rules of what I'd call mass domestic hysteria.
More later as I finish the book.
1:34 am: Finished the book. The break midway, the interruption is sort of an intermission. Because seeing Spalding Gray thru the eyes of those who knew him gives both collaboration and illuminates more of him.
A must-read but after reading some of his other works.
Spaulding Gray is one of those people that I always associate with New York performance art, along side Laurie Anderson. The first time I came across him was via Swimming To Cambodia the video. A few years later I read it. I always made it a point to watch Letterman when he was on.
I thought he was handsome (in a similar way to Sam Sheppard), deep, dark, witty, wry, hysterically funny. But never in an In Your Face way. Swimming to Cambodia had this cadence that drew you in and tossed you around the entire time. He makes you think, he impells you you follow along and you can't help but follow where he leads.
So why haven't I picked this up until now? I don't know. Bill read it a long time ago, he loved it. But today I did. I've only read about half of it before I took a nap. Throughout the entire reading I had this odd mantra circling behind the words. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.
It made me sad to read Life Interrupted. I stopped at the first Obit (Laurie Anderson). He was so fucking there in his monologues that just knowing he's absent is profound to me. How trite of me to say that it feels like he's a friend who's allowed me to see how he sees, but wierdly thats how it feels. It's the human condition I suppose. We're so bombarded with television as a model that one often believes everyone but you lives life by the rules of what I'd call mass domestic hysteria.
More later as I finish the book.
1:34 am: Finished the book. The break midway, the interruption is sort of an intermission. Because seeing Spalding Gray thru the eyes of those who knew him gives both collaboration and illuminates more of him.
A must-read but after reading some of his other works.
posted by vivage @ 4/02/2006 04:23:00 PM
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