In Coming Through Slaughter Ondaatje fictionalizes the descent into madness of the New Orleans cornet player Charles ‘Buddy’ Bolden (1877-1931). Ondaatje opens at a point in Bolden’s life when he has already become known for his style of rag-time—which many would later consider to be the origin of jazz—and follows him through a period of silence and self-doubt that ultimately leads to his hospitalization in the Louisiana State Insane Asylum.

Although material and form speak to issues of history versus fiction, I would argue that the real subject being explored is what happens when the private acts of art become commercial and public domain. One might see this in the opening passages describing the Coca-Cola signs at the corner shops: ‘the signs the owners obliterated by brand names’ (p.2); and later on in the mass suicide attempts by inmates at the asylum, cutting their tendons with sharpened glass from ‘the bottom circle from a bottle of Coca-Cola’ (pp.144, 150).

Ondaatje’s narrative takes advantage of film’s jump cuts and montage techniques, juxtaposing scenes, lyrics, lists, imagined and real interviews, and poetry to create ever more complex meanings. In this regard, Ondaatje’s approach to the novel—as it remains in his earlier and later works—relies heavily on arrangement as opposed to continuity. Additionally, he alternates points of view according to the alternating focus of the story. So as the beginning focuses on police detective Webb’s search for the recently missing Bolden, Ondaatje writes in third-person; but once the narrative moves to Bolden and madness, he alternates between third- and first-person (it seems significant that only Bolden and the author are given first-person narrative status, and I suggest this has to do with the way readers tend to associate first-person narratives with their authors). Obviously these techniques can be challenging for the reader, making it difficult to follow a shifting storyline, but Ondaatje’s prose and, I should add, his sense of order are well worth the challenge.

All in all, this is not Ondaatje’s strongest book. For that one would have to turn to In the Skin of a Lion or the Booker Prize-winning The English Patient. ( )

Jazz. I don't proscribe to the view that you either love it or hate it. I dislike the big band sound, but am also unsettled by the complexity, wildness and fierce individuality of modern jazz. "Coming Through Slaughter" is a novella riffing around the life of early jazz performer Buddy Bolden. Ondaatje, the poet, utilises the few facts that are known about his protagonist and assembles a fiction of short, diverse pieces that abut like improvised scat. Some sections I found myself absorbed in, others generated a mild headache. Ondaatje is a master of rhythm and sound and his writing is never less than impressive. It's just that some of the jazzy discontinuity, wrestling with the indeterminate pronouns, left me a little frustrated. ( )

This is a hypnotizing book written in prose that alternately sounds like poetry and feels like a soft blues song. It is dirty, sweet, heartbreaking, and candid all at once. Ondaatje has masterfully woven a reality of his own around the few bare facts known about the jazz player Buddy Bolden, creating fiction that feels like nonfiction that reads like fiction. In the end, this a book about life and about art, and what both can mean separately or taken together. It's not a traditional novel, and it's got more than its share of darkness, so it isn't for everyone, but if you're looking for a book that brings on a New Orleans atmosphere and explores the world of an unknown artist who lives with each moment, this is a phenomenal read that effectively takes you back in time with graceful playful language. Truly, this is also by far the most sensuous novel I've ever read---Ondaatje is here aware of all five senses on every page, and he commits to writing each of them, subtly, so that this is sure to reach any reader with its language if not with its character. I recommend this work whole-heartedly. ( )

A haunting book that's worth taking the time to decipher... but also just to enjoy the use of language, which is very poetical. Must read, and must read AGAIN. ( )

After reading an interview published in Blackbird where poet Beckian Goldberg cited the Collected Works of Billy the Kid as a major influence for her approach to the prose poem I went out and picked up both of Michael Ondaatje's historical novellas. Personally, I prefer the deliberate way the narrator ties in the legend of Bolden into his own life.

Not much is really known about Bolden; he was creditted as the originator of jazz by people all wanting to claim the title themselves. Bolden couldn't really fight for himself since he'd never recorded any of his songs and he'd gone insane by the time jazz had gotten any attention. Locked up in a house of detention and lacking anyone who'd been with him his entire life, his story became built off of rumor and hearsay. He played whorehouses, he editted a gossip rag, he was a barber-- all that is known for sure is that he's the man who started jazz.

In part, this story is about the origin of jazz. At a higher level, the book is trying to define what makes an American legend and in turn, explains what makes an American tragedy (and how suceptible anyone is to tragedy). I don't want to misrepresent the book, jazz plays a major role in the narrative but the value comes from the way which Ondaatje shows Bolden relying on his music to communicate. This man, Buddy Bolden, who's quintessentially lost seems to find himself whenever he puts a trumpet to his lips.

The structure of the book makes it a fast read. By using short sections, Ondaatje makes the novella itself seem like a piece of gossip. The frame of the narrator trying to understand himself through the story of Bolden is incredibly important.

Tonally, the sections play off one another the same way different instruments in a band might. An image which appeared in one section will tie that piece of the story into another piece. This novella is a lament. The attention paid to the language is unnusual for fiction. Ondaatje's background as a poet shines through in his narrative style. Every detail has a point, even if it's not an obvious one. For example, a timeline is included at the end of the book which includes the acquisition of an electroshock machine in Bolden's house of d. The most likely reason? It's the only machine in psychotherapy which has a mouthpiece.

The book breaks free of jazz; by using other legendary figures like the invalid photographer Bellocq (who photographed many of the sex workers and prominent females of New Orleans during his lifetime), Ondaatje pays homage to people as mythical figures.

If you're looking for a detailed account of the fact and fiction surrounding Bolden, you should check out "In Search of Buddy Bolden" by Donald Marquis (conviently reprinted in 2005). It outlines who the man really is. Ondaatje latches onto the mystery and tries to understand the inevitable fall which people seemed inexplicably doom to make. ( )