Reading Experiencing Greil Marcus can be exhilarating on one end and exceedingly frustrating on the other. I’ve found his books and essays on rock ‘n’ roll and off-the-narrow histories of America hit and miss, yet I can say that there’s probably no greater influence on my life as a journalist and music fan.
PopMatters has posted a long look at Marcus’ work titled “Risk and Equilibrium: The Impact of Greil Marcus” that starts out:
“Few if any American cultural historians take the great deep American Breath like Greil Marcus. It’s the
Greil Marcus breath of Whitman, of Ginsberg, of Little Richard and Dylan and Aretha Franklin—in scope and risk, at least, if not their artistry or forms. Best known for his opinions on American popular music, Marcus’ own brand of artistry has always revealed a remarkable breadth of knowledge and a more important desire to find connections between disparate, even wholly disconnected voices. As storyteller, his frequent digressions deepen the plot; as critic, he combines academics with street-level description and a gift for conjuring scenes; as historian, he’s a brilliant synthesist.”
I was a teen-ager growing up in Fresno when I first discovered Marcus writing about rock and punk in New West magazine. It was there that I first read about English punks The Clash, whose debut album hinted of great things to come in music, and whose sound and messages framed much of my youth (and whose influence on popular music continues today). It’s an album that continues to inspire me nearly 35 years later, and I’ve wondered what might have happened had I not stumbled across that Marcus column and decided to trust this Bay area writer of whom I knew nothing. Perhaps fate would have had me still locked in on a classic rock station, calling in to request “Long, Long Way From Home.” Instead The Clash, Buzzcocks and other punks inspired me to learn how to play drums, join a couple of punk and rock bands, and passionately pursue a lifelong love of music of all genres.
Marcus wrote with such zeal and authority, and seemed to look at life just a little bit differently. “Mystery Train” raised the bar for rock journalism and “Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the 20th Century” did the same for art history, somehow managing to surround odd but fascinating vignettes about alternative scenes and political thought with the history of The Sex Pistols. It’s written in a unique style that’s only deepened over the years, making Marcus' books ever challenging, yet all the more rewarding for those who invest the effort.
It’s interesting that while Marcus is best known as a critic, PopMatters’ Robert Loss recognizes that Marcus himself acknowledged the fine line between challenging artists and squashing creativity by the force of a bully pulpit, as noted in this 2001 interview:
“If you look at art criticism from the forties on and the whole notion of flatness as a value in painting, certain critics decided that painting should be this way, so they went looking for artists who either exemplified what they were looking for or who were reading what these critics were saying and were doing what they were told to do because they knew they’d get good reviews and their paintings would sell. It’s corrupt intellectually and it’s corrupt commercially.”
Indeed. And yet he continues, hoping to stay above the fray.
"A NewLiterary History of America" is Greil Marcus' latest bookMarcus has teamed up with Harvard professor Werner Sollors to deliver a new anthology titled “A New Literary History of America.” PopMatters’ Loss takes a stab at an overview, writing:
"Among the more surprising entries are essays on Alcoholic Anonymous, the Winchester rifle and pro football. Such choices are defended in the volume’s Introduction as evidence of “how one got across what he or she meant to say to his or her fellow citizens”, a cut-throat whatever-it-takes methodology that shouldn’t seem surprising in today’s America. Basing their selections around voices which spoke in public of something new, or spoke in a new way about something old (and borrowed and yes, blue), and then charting the trajectories of those voices—how far they carried, and to whom—Marcus and Sollors emphasize the imperative outbursts of a country seeking to define itself, to know itself, after the fact of its invention.”
Sounds inviting and daunting to me. I feel like I need a couple weeks of training to prepare for the adventure. I think I'm up for the challenge.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010 at 10:26 PM 