By: Michael Ondaatje Publisher: Vintage Average Rating: Binding: Paperback Label: Vintage Number of Items: 1 Number of Pages: 160 Publication Date: March 19, 1996 Release Date: March 19, 1996
Product Description: Bringing to life the fabulous, colorful panorama of New Orleans in the first flush of the jazz era, this book tells the story of Buddy Bolden, the first of the great trumpet players--some say the originator of jazz--who was, in any case, the genius, the guiding spirit, and the king of that time and place.
In this fictionalized meditation, Bolden, an unrecorded father of Jazz, remains throughout a tantalizingly ungraspable phantom, the central mysteries of his life, his art, and his madness remaining felt but never quite pinned down. Ondaatje's prose is at times startlingly lyrical, and as he chases Bolden through documents and scenes, the novel partakes of the very best sort of modern detective novel--one where the enigma is never resolved, but allowed to manifest in its fullness. Though more 'experimental' in form than either The English Patient or In the Skin of a Lion, it is a fitting addition to the renowned Ondaatje oeuvre.
What is a Creole? In light of the confusion of the use of the term "Creole" in this book, readers must understand that the first usage of the term was by the Portuguese (crioulo) to describe their mixed offspring in Cape Verde and elsewhere. Eventually, it was used to describe any peoples born in the New World. In Louisiana, it was used first to describe all peoples born in Louisiana, and later used to distinguish French Louisianans from Cajuns and Americans. Free people of Color, who were also of French descent, did not begin to use this term until after the Civil War. They used it for the same reasons as their French cousins, to distinguish themselves from the Americans.
What is a Creole? I read the book not because I'm a fan of detective fiction, but because I wanted to learn a bit more of the history of Jazz and New Orleans: Fulmer's book more than fulfilled my expectations. Now I want to read his latest book to see what additional glimpses of Jazz and New Orleans Fulmer describes in it.
A few have criticized Fulmer because he called St. Cyr a Creole. Their argument is that St. Cyr is partially black and Creoles are never even partially black. However, they are wrong. The true origin of the word Creole is Spanish. This was the name given to the descendant of a Spanish-born mother and father when their child was born away from Spain. Later the term Creole was also used by the French to indicate a person born away from France whose parent were both born in France.
The original Creoles were indeed not mixed. However, the term Creole also has for some time been used as Fulmer uses it. It is a name given to the mixed blood descendants of blacks and the original French and Spanish settlers. Check your dictionary.
Coming Through Slaughter: Ondaatje's musical novel I originally read this book as part of a fiction workshop. Unlike some other class-assigned readings, this book became a treasured part of my personal collection. Its form is rather unconventional -- it's rather like reading a novel of poetry. Admittedly, it can be hard to "get into," but I found that the more I read in one sitting, the greater impact Ondaatje's prose had on me. For me, Coming Through Slaughter was one of those rare gems that hovers over you until you've completed it. You find yourself thinking of Ondaatje's characters even when you've put the book away; they linger after the last page in the same way they seem to exist in the realm of the book -- a dream-like haze.
The story is one of Buddy Bolden, a real jazz musician in New Orleans in the early 20th century. None of his music survives, but he is said to be one of the founders of jazz. And so Ondaatje explores the small pieces of Bolden's historical truth, creating a character and an entire book that revolves around his life, his love affair with music, his love affair with a woman, and the audience's love affair with him. Other historical characters emerge from the text, like E.J. Bellocq, a man who photographed prostitutes from the Storyville area of New Orleans.
There are a lot of beautiful descriptions of abstractions, particularly of music (the way it looks, its color, the way it's created) and of emotion. As some other reviewers have suggested, they are descriptions tangible enough for a deaf person. And yet there is an ethereal element in Ondaatje's writing that makes it seem as though something much greater eludes you; it adds to Bolden's presence in the book.
This is the first book I've read by Ondaatje, and I hope to read more.
Zippity-do-dah-crap I've been forced to wade through a lot of boring crap in my life: Thomas Hardy, Jane Urquhart's Changing Heaven, Leviticus, and this book was one of the biggest bores of them all. Nobody seems willing to admit to the fact that everything Ondaatje writes is tedious, self-indulgent and overdone. This guy sits around for 10 years with this thumb up his ass and at the end of it this is all he has to show for it. True, he's not bad looking for an old Sri Lankan guy, but that's no reason to let this guy continue churning this stuff out. My advice to him would still be that it's never too late to go into a new line of work.
Question Hello - This isn't a review, but a solicitation for advice. My girlfriend is an infrequent reader, but she read this book as part of an English class assignment and absolutely loved it. Can anyone out there recommend anything similar in style and/or subject matter (not necessarily about Bolden, but perhaps New Orleans and/or Jazz, etc)? I've made my own suggestions to her but none could pique her interest quite as much as this book has. Any and all serious recommendations would be greatly appreciated.