It’s been a long battle to get to the point where I won’t finish a book I’m not totally enjoying. I had tried to believe that there might be value right around the corner, or at least in the next chapter in any book, especially a biography.
But as I get older, I’m trying to take more of a “screw it, life is too short for a book that ain’t doin’ it for me” attitude.
Unfortunately, this book about Mississippi John Hurt fell into the “screw it” category.
It almost felt like an official report. For example, the author relies HEAVILY on census data to tell the story of everyone Hurt so much as brushed shoulders with as a youngster. In fact, if you took a shot of your favorite adult beverage every time the author wrote “census”, you’d be hammered before you finished the first chapter. The chapters are so massively long (there’s only five) that I didn’t even finish the first one and multiple nights reading it.
The author also said “probably” or “seems likely” a lot which is not unusual given the era. But between ultra-specific on everyone’s census data and other things being hard to pin down, it became a bit of a joyless read. (There’s one 3-star review on Amazon where the complaint about it being too scholarly was raised. I agree.)
If Hurt had been my relative and I was into genealogy, I would appreciate this book a lot. A family member wrote the forward and was thrilled with the book... as she should be. All of us should be so lucky to get a book about a famous family member that goes into such detail about the family. Maybe his later life and re-discovery was more interesting in the book, but I’ll never know. Still love his music, though.
Moved on to a Tom Petty book last night and already enjoying it more.