In his memoir Liar, author and apparent seedy degenerate Rob Roberge presents us with non sequitur entries addressed, oddly enough, to himself. In these passages, he recounts some wild and personal stories, but his memory is a bit foggy due to likely CTE from experiencing multiple concussions while going hard on the stuff for 20 years. The whole thing seemed like an exercise in self pity, especially as the author interspersed his personal memories with accounts of the suicides of notable artists, as if wishing he would one day be remembered among them. This book won't be the one to earn him that (morbid) spot. I received a copy from Blogging for Books, and the book's out now.
No comments:
Post a Comment