RaveThe Brooklyn RailDylan is sweeping out the ashes from the cave of a long career. He is casting a light on the Jungian shadows of popular song, examining both mechanics and metaphysics. Entertaining and profound, Dylan’s philosophy runs along the lines of Pascal’s Pensées, or the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius—personal ruminations on how to live with oneself, and the universe. Dylan finds profundities where others find ditties, but he always has ... Dylan’s humor—always one of his most beguiling qualities, and in short supply in later years—is everywhere evident, and it makes this book the romp that it is. I lost track of the number of times I laughed out loud. Some of the chapters offer practical insights into singing, phrasing, songwriting and recording studio practices. Other chapters take the song as a jumping-off point for stand-alone meditations on art, money, war, religion, etc. ... Dylan’s picture editing provides a compelling and offbeat visual narrative of the history of modern song, always reminding us that this is an art forged in the smithy of commerce. By refusing to include captions the illustrations speak for themselves all the more powerfully. Dylan’s droll humor even extends to the illustrations ... This book probably brings you closer to being inside Dylan’s mind than anything else he’s ever done. In many ways it is more autobiographical than his memoirs Chronicles, and certainly a much happier book. There are no scores to settle, no traumatic encounters with fame, no reason to obfuscate or lie. Discussing Hank Williams or Chuck Berry obviously brings out the best in him. The book is full of unexpected assessments.
