Alex Colgan writes excellent book reviews. He says I should write them too. Who am I to argue?
I am also stealing his format.
"Nothing's Sacred"
- Lewis Black
[Just to clarify, I will be judging this and all future books by the following criteria: what I learn from it, what emotions it brought out in me from reading it, how long it is, how long it took me to read it, how much it cost, writing style, creativity, and a slew of other random things that somehow affected my experience.]
When I first became aware that the great Lewis Black had written a book, I was overjoyed. Something he wrote must have been pure comedic genius. I even made a day of going out to Bayer's Lake just to get it. But sadly, writing books is not Mr. Black's area of expertise.
Much of the material, at least most of the funny stuff, was stuff he wrote for his stand-up comedy routines. He told the story of how he auditioned to be himself, how the end of the Universe is two Starbucks situated across from each other in Houston, his youth spent under wooden desks patiently awaiting Armageddon. It's all there. And it's funny stuff, to be certain. But it's funnier when Lewis Black is saying it. This book is ultimate proof that comedy is all about the delivery; even some of the funniest things he's said lose some oompf because you've heard them before, and now you're experiencing it without Lewis' outraged mannerisms.
The book, however, does explore some interesting, and sometimes funny, aspects of his childhood and young adulthood. His recounting of his days working for the Appalachian Regional Commission and fucking with the authority figures of the Yale School of Drama were witty and fantastic to read. He even has one of his plays copied in its entirety in the softcover edition, a play which has most certainly bled into obscurity. As an autobiography of Lewis Black, this is a good book. It's just not all that funny.
It is a shame, it really is, that I am sitting here and typing the words "not funny" in conjunction with Lewis Black. Black is an exceptionally funny person, probably the best of our times. He's like this generation's Richard Pryor or George Carlin. This is a man I will be raving about in my forties while my kids ask me who the hell he is. But alas, this book isn't really all that funny. He could have come up with some new jokes for his book, but he just recycled old ones. Which leads me to believe that he didn't take the book seriously. He even warns the reader never to write a book within its pages.
This is also not a book that one cannot put down. I found it rather simple to, in fact. I'd not touch the book for weeks when schoolwork came up. Nothing Sacred is a bathroom book; the only time you make for it is when you're taking a shit. Oh, that's the other thing; this book is hardly as hardcore and cuss-erific as when Lewis speaks. The word "fuck" appeared within the pages, but nowhere near how often he says it in person. I suspect the editor is responsible for this. When will publishers learn, when people buy a book from someone like Lewis Black, they are not going to be shocked by his expletives. This is so simply because no one who had not heard of him and heard his routines would buy his book. Simple economic psychology, people.
In the end, the book was probably not worth the $18 I paid for it, but if they had knocked off about a fin, it would have been worth it. Anyone who is interested in Lewis Black's history and progression to the finger-pointin', vein-poppin', authority-hatin' "Migranocrat" he is today, pick this book up. If you're interested in laughing until your side hurts, don't.
Final Score - 3/5
- Silent G
I am also stealing his format.
"Nothing's Sacred"
- Lewis Black
[Just to clarify, I will be judging this and all future books by the following criteria: what I learn from it, what emotions it brought out in me from reading it, how long it is, how long it took me to read it, how much it cost, writing style, creativity, and a slew of other random things that somehow affected my experience.]
When I first became aware that the great Lewis Black had written a book, I was overjoyed. Something he wrote must have been pure comedic genius. I even made a day of going out to Bayer's Lake just to get it. But sadly, writing books is not Mr. Black's area of expertise.
Much of the material, at least most of the funny stuff, was stuff he wrote for his stand-up comedy routines. He told the story of how he auditioned to be himself, how the end of the Universe is two Starbucks situated across from each other in Houston, his youth spent under wooden desks patiently awaiting Armageddon. It's all there. And it's funny stuff, to be certain. But it's funnier when Lewis Black is saying it. This book is ultimate proof that comedy is all about the delivery; even some of the funniest things he's said lose some oompf because you've heard them before, and now you're experiencing it without Lewis' outraged mannerisms.
The book, however, does explore some interesting, and sometimes funny, aspects of his childhood and young adulthood. His recounting of his days working for the Appalachian Regional Commission and fucking with the authority figures of the Yale School of Drama were witty and fantastic to read. He even has one of his plays copied in its entirety in the softcover edition, a play which has most certainly bled into obscurity. As an autobiography of Lewis Black, this is a good book. It's just not all that funny.
It is a shame, it really is, that I am sitting here and typing the words "not funny" in conjunction with Lewis Black. Black is an exceptionally funny person, probably the best of our times. He's like this generation's Richard Pryor or George Carlin. This is a man I will be raving about in my forties while my kids ask me who the hell he is. But alas, this book isn't really all that funny. He could have come up with some new jokes for his book, but he just recycled old ones. Which leads me to believe that he didn't take the book seriously. He even warns the reader never to write a book within its pages.
This is also not a book that one cannot put down. I found it rather simple to, in fact. I'd not touch the book for weeks when schoolwork came up. Nothing Sacred is a bathroom book; the only time you make for it is when you're taking a shit. Oh, that's the other thing; this book is hardly as hardcore and cuss-erific as when Lewis speaks. The word "fuck" appeared within the pages, but nowhere near how often he says it in person. I suspect the editor is responsible for this. When will publishers learn, when people buy a book from someone like Lewis Black, they are not going to be shocked by his expletives. This is so simply because no one who had not heard of him and heard his routines would buy his book. Simple economic psychology, people.
In the end, the book was probably not worth the $18 I paid for it, but if they had knocked off about a fin, it would have been worth it. Anyone who is interested in Lewis Black's history and progression to the finger-pointin', vein-poppin', authority-hatin' "Migranocrat" he is today, pick this book up. If you're interested in laughing until your side hurts, don't.
Final Score - 3/5
- Silent G
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