Frank Conroy (1936–2005)

High rating largely based on the ending. Conroy didn't go for the cliché, and that was so refreshing. The book is beautiful on so many fronts, and there are so many opportunities to be maudlin, but Conroy takes the road less traveled (most of the time). The relationship between Claude and Weisfeld is likely one of my favorite relationships in all of literature.

There are a few times where it gets in the weeds with musical description (and I say this as a musicologist) that seemed to be show more trying too hard, but on the whole the musical journey seemed very relatable and even inspiring. Not everyone is a Claude, of course, who we understand to be a prodigy, but Conroy shapes his character enough we are intrigued in how he has to navigate his world (and the world at large).

After a slow-ish start, that seemed like it was going the route of the tried and true inspirational tale of the talent who comes from tough circumstances, things get considerably more interesting as Claude experiences loss and disappointment (unconnected to his music and performing), and some of the secondary characters actually develop as well. Really a joy to have read it. show less

THE ELEVENTH DRAFT: CRAFT AND THE WRITING LIFE FROM THE IOWA WRITERS' WORKSHOP, by Frank Conroy, editor.

This book was published in 1999, and I see that there are a hundred LibraryThing members that have the book, but not a single review has been posted. Well here's one. To tell the truth it's a pretty uneven collection. Of the 23 pieces contained here, I found only a half dozen or so to be truly engaging. I bought the book mainly because I saw it had an essay by Doris Grumbach, who is one of show more my favorite non-fiction writers. (She is now 97, mostly deaf and partly blind, and continues to write. See why I like her?) And yup, her essay is probably my favorite of the whole bunch. A known curmudgeony sort, Doris stayed in character here, noting: "What good writing does not require is public appearances, lavish cocktail book parties, awards, interviews, lectures, readings, signings, and all the peripheral goings-on and hype ... It might help the level of their prose if they would stop "appearing" and performing and become the private persons their craft requires them to be." Well said, Doris.

Geoffrey Wolff very eloquently describes his own mixed feelings about the proliferation of MFA programs, despite the fact that he heads one himself. (I loved Wolff's memoir about his father, THE DUKE OF DECEPTION.)

T. Coraghessan Boyle holds forth most charmingly about his misspent, drug-addled youth and how writing saved him, giving much credit to various teachers, especially Vance Bourjaily, his mentor at the IWW.

Elizabeth McCracken confesses that most of her fiction comes from family archives, stories and papers. (Her THE GIANT'S HOUSE is a favorite of mine.)

There is a quote in James Alan McPherson's piece, "Workshopping Lucius Mummius," that I especially liked. I can't remember who said it, Marilynne Robinson or someone writing for Chronicles of Culture, but it seemed still very relevant, considering the current GOP circus, starring Donald Trump. Here it is -

"Every day, American life becomes ... more and more like scenes from Petronius' SATYRICON, where sex substitutes for love, profits for productivity. Petronius lived in the time of the Emperor Nero, when the Romans no longer voted for their consuls, but were content to worship whatever buffoon had been selected to be the god-man who ruled the world's only remaining super-power ..."

After Grumbach, the piece I think I felt was most effective was the title piece by Chris Offutt, who probably gives as good a description of the writing and editing process and the compulsion to write as I've yet read. I loved his first memoir, THE SAME RIVER TWICE. Now I know I've got to read the other one - and he has a new one, about his father, coming out early next year. That one too, yeah.

This collection was, to my mind, just okay. Well, okay; maybe even a little more than okay, okay? But it fails to unseat what I call the best IWW book I've read so far, which is A COMMUNITY OF WRITERS, edited by Robert Dana. The essays in that book were all good. To this one? Three and a half stars. Okay? show less

I did not like this book. I read it because my mom thought I would really like it. It's about a poor kid in NYC who discovers he has a musical talent for playing the piano. I am a professional musician and I really didn't like the idea of reading a book of fiction about music. It's usually so over-emotional and silly. Surprisingly, the best moments in the book (of which there were few!!!) were the sections about the main character's discovery of his musical talent. On the other hand, the way show more the author describes the rest of his life (his sexual relationships, student/teacher relationships, mother/son relationship) were so predictable and ridiculous. It seemed like Conroy, who is not a musician, spent so much time figuring out how to write convincingly about music that he neglected any kind of real character and relationship development in the rest of the story. I'd definitely recommend avoiding this book! show less

The young Frank Conroy in Stop-Time is a heady mix of Holden Caulfield and George Orwell of Down and Out in Paris and London. It's the story of the son of an alcoholic, raised by a clueless mom and flighty stepfather, who frankly admits to his own cluelessless. He wanders in the backwoods of Florida, the streets of New York, and the halls of various institutions, without any guidance but his own inner energy and fierce desire to survive by observing and learning from the world around him -- show more which he does. You'll shake your head in wonder and awe at his recklessness and tenacity. I'm so glad he survived his haphazard childhood to write this book. show less