"Fame molds itself onto your face. Then it molds your face. Fame brings you immunity from the usual rules. That's why the law doesn't like us. If a freak with a guitar doesn't have to abide by the rules of the great and the good, why should anyone? Problem is, if fame is a drug, it's hard to kick."
There was a lot to absorb in "Utopia Avenue," a twisting, turning tale of the pursuit -- and attainment -- of music stardom in the 1960s. David Mitchell doesn't shy away from any of the massive issues of that, or any time, spending time on pretty much every significant social issue of the era.
It's clear that his book is painstakingly researched, with largely believable cameos from a load of famous musicians and people. I felt Mitchell bordered on gratuitous overindulgence with some of these name-drops, but his weaving, careening style (mostly) makes it work.
"I asked if I could ever learn to play like that. 'No,' he told me, 'because' -- I'll always remember this -- 'you haven't lived my life and the blues is a language you can't lie in.' But if I wanted it enough, he said, then one day I'd learn to play like me."
On the downside, Mitchell's characters tend to speak in soliloquies, with meticulously worded diatribes about a host of worldly affairs. The story also features a few characters -- led by Bruce -- who could barely be considered even one-dimensional, and intriguing entries to the tale just as quickly shuffle off the stage without mention.
"A brain constructs a model of reality. If that model isn't too different from most people's model, you're labeled sane. If the model is different, you're labeled a genius, a misfit, a visionary, or a nutcase. In extreme cases, you're labeled a schizophrenic and locked up."
After a relatively shocking twist at the end, the postscript redeems much of the book for me. Mitchell's passion for music shines through, and in total, it's enough to gloss over the bumps and gaps.
"She looks back one last time, the way you're warned against by myths and fairy tales. She waves from the gateway and she's going, going ... gone. A person is a thing that leaves."
There's a lot to love about "Utopia Avenue" -- a book that struggles to not take itself too seriously but begs the reader to do the same.
At 574 pages, it can be a bit of a slog at times. However, I can attest that reading it primarily on a beach-front deck eases the work.
And let's just say my personal glossary of British slang has grown exponentially.
"All that it cost us to get here was worth it."
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