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A review by readybyian
Coming Through Slaughter by Michael Ondaatje
4.0
“The heat has fallen back into the lake and left air empty. You can smell trees across the bay. I notice tonight someone has moved in over there. One square of light came on at twilight and changed the gentle shape of the tree line, making the horizon invisible. Was annoyed till I admitted to myself I had been lonely and this comforted me. The rest of the world is in that cabin room behind the light. Everyone I know lives there and when the light is on it means they are there.”
There were points in this book when I hadn't the slightest idea what was going on. It didn't matter though, Ondaatje's prose is mesmerizing in the most beautiful way. He immersed me in the jazz parlours of turn-of-the-century New Orleans. The novel concerns a jazz musician - named Buddy Bolden - and his descent into madness. As the book progresses, chapters become fragmented, perspectives change with every paragraph, tenses are combined, language evolves and decays along with Bolden's mind. The structure is innovative and leaves you with whiplash. You're taken into this man's mind as it fractures, as delusions and hallucinations tear away at his sanity.
At first, Buddy is conscious of his impending demise. The scenes where he reminisces about those he has loved and the joy his music brings him are heartbreaking. Ondaatje can capture quiet moments with palpable candour. As Buddy's mind withers, the rhythmic escalations of anger and resentment ebb and flow as erratically as the songs he plays. When Buddy no longer recognizes himself, the cacophony of noises in his head reaches a deafening and violent climax. He's coming through the slaughtering of his own mind.
This book is a whirlwind. I enjoy it when authors play with structure and reconstruct traditional notions of what a novel can be. The book is infused with poetry, sporadic scenes of alliteration, interview transcripts, and timetables. Each page brings something new and exciting. As Ondaatje writes, it's as if "we are animals meeting an unknown breed ... swimming towards the sound of madness."
There were points in this book when I hadn't the slightest idea what was going on. It didn't matter though, Ondaatje's prose is mesmerizing in the most beautiful way. He immersed me in the jazz parlours of turn-of-the-century New Orleans. The novel concerns a jazz musician - named Buddy Bolden - and his descent into madness. As the book progresses, chapters become fragmented, perspectives change with every paragraph, tenses are combined, language evolves and decays along with Bolden's mind. The structure is innovative and leaves you with whiplash. You're taken into this man's mind as it fractures, as delusions and hallucinations tear away at his sanity.
At first, Buddy is conscious of his impending demise. The scenes where he reminisces about those he has loved and the joy his music brings him are heartbreaking. Ondaatje can capture quiet moments with palpable candour. As Buddy's mind withers, the rhythmic escalations of anger and resentment ebb and flow as erratically as the songs he plays. When Buddy no longer recognizes himself, the cacophony of noises in his head reaches a deafening and violent climax. He's coming through the slaughtering of his own mind.
This book is a whirlwind. I enjoy it when authors play with structure and reconstruct traditional notions of what a novel can be. The book is infused with poetry, sporadic scenes of alliteration, interview transcripts, and timetables. Each page brings something new and exciting. As Ondaatje writes, it's as if "we are animals meeting an unknown breed ... swimming towards the sound of madness."