12/8/11 Book of the Day: Straight Life: The Story of Art Pepper

12/8/11
Book of the Day:
Straight Life: The Art Pepper Story
By Art and Laurie Pepper
...People often ask me what I consider to be the best recovery memoir of all time and though there have been a lot of great books on the subject, Jazz musician Art Pepper's autobiography remains my all time favorite. The book is so pure and honest and unpretentious. The writing is so simple and straight forward and true. And the book explores so many interesting aspects of drug addiction from it's effect on creativity, to the crazy, backwards recovery programs in the 70's and 80's like Synanon. Plus he spent a ton of time in prison at San Quentin. And he played Jazz during the time of segregation and through the civil rights movement. Seriously, it's a beautiful book. And his relationship with his wife (who co-wrote the book) is so sweet and lovely. She really helped save his life. And you can see how much he loved her. Also, like I said, this book stands out for being completely stripped down and unwriterly (is that a word?). Not that it's anti-intellectual. It's a super smart book. It's just not self conscious. Which is more than can be said for most writing (including my own). Honestly, I'd love to be able to write as purely as Art and Laurie do. This book is a treasure, really. I hope there will always be an audience to help keep it in print.

Review by Robert Pinsky in City Secrets: BOOKS
The Essential Insider's Guide" (2009)

Straight Life: The Story of Art Pepper

By Art and Laurie Pepper
1979

"Straight Life, by Art and Laurie Pepper" —even the word "by" on the book's cover has a special, bewildering, and exciting meaning: a jazz meaning.

Laurie Pepper gives an elegant, three-sentence preface:

This is a true story, a tape recorded narrative by Art Pepper (and those who've known him) which I have transcribed and edited. In order to avoid embarrassing a number of people, some details have been changed and pseudonyms are occasionally used. Attitudes, intentions, and feelings attributed by Art Pepper to anyone besides himself should be understood by the reader to be Art's impressions, not fact.

The emphasis on truth and the subjectivity of truth; the sleek plainness of the statement introducing a furious, wild set of variations and evolutions; the spontaneity and calculation of spoken narrative, the collaboration and the idiosyncrasy; the laconic irony and the implicit passion: all these have a jazz quality, emphasized and deepened by Straight Life's epigraph:

What is the use of talking and there is no end of talking
There is no end of things in the heart.
—Ezra Pound

The book is talked and it is composed, from Art Pepper's heart and in his voice. It has the qualities I admire in writing, though it was not literally "written" but spoken by its main author.

The material of this life story is mostly hard drugs and jazz music, and its action is the agony of self-destruction and self-preservation. The way I remember passages in Dickens, Joyce, and Dostoyevsky, I remember Pepper's account of the first time he takes heroin and his account of making his historic recording Art Pepper Meets the Rhythm Section with Miles Davis's rhythm section—Pepper playing with those master sidemen while he was strung out, with a horn needing repair, the instrument neglected because he hadn't practiced for six months. Having been either in prison or stoned, Pepper hadn't heard current tunes like "Imagination;" Red Garland played the head melody once, and Art Pepper played an approximate version of it, later (rightly) praised by critics for its inventive quality.

Art Pepper has no interest in making jazz or drugs romantic. There is no glamorous bullshit here—though there are heroes, like the producer Les Koenig, who defied the Loyalty Oath and the HUAC scoundrels, leaving movies for music. Pepper hates hypocrisy and complacency. The style of his book, like the style of real poetry, disrupts ease with discovery. Pepper's description of the night he dueled with his rival Sonny Stitt, the two saxophone players challenging one another with multiple choruses of improvisation, is exciting—but the narrative of that cutting session is as grim and doomed and realistic as battles in The Iliad.

p.s. I just watched (finally) the new Almodovar movie, The Skin I Live In. It is seriously beautiful and inspiring. It's gotten mostly not great reviews I see, but I couldn't disagree more. For me, I'd say best movie of 2011 for sure. I mean, nothing comes close. Antonio Banderas is awesome in it. And that girl is stunning and amazing. If ya'll can find it, I super recommend it. Even if it is a little disturbing. At least, the rape scenes, you know? I can barely stand watching that shit anymore. Actually, that's like the one thing I really can't take watching. Otherwise, Irishize33, hmmm...I like the John Waters picture. And I hate pictures of myself. Tessalexandra, haha...what is a toonie movie theater? The Aero on Montana in Santa Monica used to have two dollar double features. Not for a long time, though. And, yeah, honeybee, that Marathon Man scene freaked me out, too. They're finishing the surgery on Saturday, actually. Sucks not to be able to take the pain meds, but they never seem to help too much anyway. Isn't that one of the things James Frey lied about? Having all this dental work done with no anesthesia? I never read that book. Oh, and, by the way, a Satanic Cult has come into my new book. I didn't even know it was coming, but now it's there and I'm having fun watching a lot of old Devil movies in preparation. The Devil Rides Out is particularly good. And, the Blood on Satan's Claw. Race With the Devil I already did, right? Oh, and I think someone asked about my favorite Dylan song. Did I ever answer that? It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), off Bringing it All Back Home. That whole album is great.
A Love Supreme.
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