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A review by secarles
Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road by Neil Peart
1.0
I have been a Rush fan since 1978. I have loved Peart's lyrics ever since. I ride a motorcycle and like to travel on it. I couldn't wait to read this book!
Peart suffered a tragic loss, no one can take that away. But just because you choose to write about a loss doesn't automatically make it a well told story. It's much the same with amateur poetry writing - some people think that because the event/emotion/etc. was deeply felt by them, that when they pen it and share it, no matter how poor the writing, others must honor and respect it. Sure, you can honor and respect that the person felt that way, but once it's shared, the way the person has shared it is fair game for dissection.
So my problem with the book is the way Peart went about sharing the experience. I found it repetitive, dull and bellybutton gazing at its worst--it seemed like an extended pity-party. If Peart would have put his skills as a lyricist to work on this book, he could have easily trimmed it down from 400 pages to about 75 and told the story in a much more compelling read. Instead it just went on forever with no hint of the deft touch he exercises in his lyrics. Because of that style of writing, I just wanted him to stop whining and get on with it.
There is nothing in the book that draws me in and makes me care about Peart or his problems. I was hoping for some soul-searching then wisdom. No such luck.
Not even the travel portions could redeem this because he was drowning in his sorrows and focused on himself. If he would have spent time looking outward instead of inward so much, maybe something would have resonated not only with him, but through him to the reader. Instead we get mostly diary entries (more lists of went here, went here, went here, variety), not narrative which could also have helped pull things together.
I think that maybe this book was written too close to his loss to really deliver anything useful to others.
With as much respect as I have for his lyrics, I wish I could be more positive about this book.
Peart suffered a tragic loss, no one can take that away. But just because you choose to write about a loss doesn't automatically make it a well told story. It's much the same with amateur poetry writing - some people think that because the event/emotion/etc. was deeply felt by them, that when they pen it and share it, no matter how poor the writing, others must honor and respect it. Sure, you can honor and respect that the person felt that way, but once it's shared, the way the person has shared it is fair game for dissection.
So my problem with the book is the way Peart went about sharing the experience. I found it repetitive, dull and bellybutton gazing at its worst--it seemed like an extended pity-party. If Peart would have put his skills as a lyricist to work on this book, he could have easily trimmed it down from 400 pages to about 75 and told the story in a much more compelling read. Instead it just went on forever with no hint of the deft touch he exercises in his lyrics. Because of that style of writing, I just wanted him to stop whining and get on with it.
There is nothing in the book that draws me in and makes me care about Peart or his problems. I was hoping for some soul-searching then wisdom. No such luck.
Not even the travel portions could redeem this because he was drowning in his sorrows and focused on himself. If he would have spent time looking outward instead of inward so much, maybe something would have resonated not only with him, but through him to the reader. Instead we get mostly diary entries (more lists of went here, went here, went here, variety), not narrative which could also have helped pull things together.
I think that maybe this book was written too close to his loss to really deliver anything useful to others.
With as much respect as I have for his lyrics, I wish I could be more positive about this book.