Autoportrait

Studying absurdity made me read this autobiography of Jesse Ball. I have never read any of his poems or novels. I instantly fell in love with his authentic and transparent writing style. Every couple of sentences shifted to another thing or story about his life. It's as if he was talking directly to me. No small talk, just randomness at times, all words of matter vomiting out of his mouth.

I’d like to read this as many times as Beethoven revised each sonata.

Autoportrait is a piece of art in the making: it’s whiplash-like structure of bouncing between Ball’s personal interests, familial grief, and exploration of art all act as bright splashes of paint against a canvas. Ball blends these colors together into the portrait of himself.The plot of Autoportrait is non-linear and changes from sentence to sentence. Ball’s writing is so unexpected and pours on to the page so effortlessly that the reader has no choice but to be swept up by its current. Autoportrait reads as a stream-of-consciousness confessional, like a man is given twenty-four hours to write everything he’s ever experienced. It’s an extraordinary burst of life.A scattered yet constant discussion about art and its connection to Ball’s life and developing interests as a creative string together sections of Autoportrait. Because of that, I feel like this book would appeal to visual artists, writers, photographers, musicians, and other creatives. Ball’s memoir is a great reminder to explore the depths of creative freedom, in an organized fashion or without restrictions.The memoir quickly and without notice jumps from one idea, moment, or interest to the next, but Ball is able to do so in a way that emotionally involves the reader. An example of this occurs when Ball shifts from describing thinking about unplugging his brother from life support, saying “I wasn’t sure what life was to take it away,” to, “When I see someone drawing something, I look to see what it is,” all within a small space between the two thoughts (94-95).I myself am a huge fan of organized chaos, which I feel like Autoportrait falls under. I read it in a sitting because I was so interested in what Ball would rant about next. It felt like a puzzle, collecting fleeting thoughts in one or two lines, then seeing them create these portraits of grief, art, and growing up by the end of the memoir. If you are more of a fan of an organized, sectioned story, this might not be for you, but I would highly encourage you to give this book a chance to swallow you whole.Autoportrait is proof of life being art.

This could be Jesse Ball's actual true autobiography, or it could be the might-as-well-be-true biography of a character created by Jesse Ball who happens to be named Jesse Ball. If you don't see this distinction as being much of a distinction at all, then you will likely enjoy this book.I noted above that "it's all good". That is not true. The book is, more or less, log-normal. There are some misses, lots of solid bits, and a few amazingly engaging bits. Some lines are too coy or contrived; some are astonishing or even heartbreaking. Since the entire text is one continuing paragraph, and almost no thought is entertained beyond at most a few sentences, the use of the word "bits" seems quite appropriate.I enjoy and admire Ball's fiction. I enjoyed and admired this.(Please note that I received a free ecopy of this book without a review requirement, or any influence regarding review content should I choose to post a review. Apart from that I have no connection at all to either the author or the publisher of this book.)