Bibliophile – Infinity Blues by Ryan Adams

I feel obliged to start this review with a few strong disclaimers:

1. I have never read poetry in my life. And my only experience writing it was winning my Grade 11 English class poetry contest. Don’t get excited, it wasn’t good.

2. I am a massive Ryan Adams (music) fan and am therefore extremely biased.

Moving ahead:

With a reputation as divisive as Ryan Adams‘, I was cautious going into this book. Known to be a contentious fellow and somewhat of a spoiled child at times, the potential for this book to be nothing more than a bloated vanity project was high. However, as a devout fan of Adams’ musical projects (Whiskeytown, solo and with The Cardinals) I also knew his potential for writing beautiful prose and lyrics that can are as poignant as they are eloquent.  I was pleasantly surprised to find it interesting and engaging.

The same rich imagery Ryan Adams uses in his music translated well onto the page, and the emotional delivery of the poems has his artistic stamp all over it.

Of course, I have no reference point as to whether it is good poetry or not, plus I have conflicting feelings whether I like it because I am a fan and interested in the mind behind the man, or because it is genuinely good writing. I like to think it’s the latter, but am not foolish enough to claim my bias will not affect that decision. However, I am a writer and believe that good writing is good across the board. Some of Infinity Blues is good/great. And unlike his music, some of it simply isn’t.

The confessional tone of many of these poems is disarming, a trait I appreciate, but with it comes a sliver of Adams’ personality that is less-than-attractive; the angry child unable to let go of distant pain. Of course, this is why art exists, and judging Adams on his emotion is not my intent. It’s just the delivery that fails to impress. At times, the vulgarity takes over from the eloquence, possibly achieving exactly the tone Adams wanted, but not successfully enough to engage this reader.

The moments of eloquence are far from few though. Adams threads beautiful passages in between his bouts of abrasive language, and the results are outstanding. The same fragile man that wrote some of the most honest songs of the past decade manages to capture that fragility in prose, in what seems like an effortless and fluid process. For all the anger, Mr. Adams has still managed to tap into the positive side of human emotion.

Angry and eloquent. Up and down. Smoothly-lyrical and bluntly vulgar. If anything, in his career Adams has gracefully ridden the line between many different dychotomies and done so honestly and dramatically. As with most of his art, Infinity Blues stands as a testament to his unwavering commitment to his craft, with no apologies to those who get it, or to those who don’t. Just the way it should be. – Mike Berard

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