2025 Reading Round-Up

 

Ten years since Bowie died

Last year was a curious year, with 90% of my books packed away in piles of boxes while our new house was being built. I kept a select few out, ready to read, but, of course, quickly added to that number via digs in second hand bookstores in Perth and Melbourne and in op shops in Subiaco. This situation led to me reading one of my many long-held books, A Landing on the Sun (1991) by Michael Frayn, which I deliberately left out of the boxes in order to finally read it, and I’m pleased that I did. This novel didn’t end up as the best book of the year, however, that honour goes to what is considered to be a perfect novel, Stoner (1965) by John Williams. A beautiful, brilliant novel that everyone should read. Another great discovery was Paul Auster, an author I had long known about, but it took finding Leviathan (1992) in an op-shop for me to finally read him. Once again, thoroughly recommended. I also managed make progress in my Martin Amis project, with Money (1984) coming close to being my book of the year, and the short story collection, Einstein’s Monsters (1987) being a worthy read. I finally got around to reading one of the classics I’d long wanted to read, Childhood’s End (1953) by the great Arthur C. Clarke, which didn’t disappoint. City (1952) by Clifford D. Simak also falls under that classification.

Stoner - book of the year

It was great year for reading generally, with some great books resulting from the library book club; Our Evenings (2024) by Alan Hollinghurst, There are Rivers in the Sky (2024) by Elif Shafak and Stoner being notable examples. As aways there were some lesser books, with Dark Magus (2006) by Gregory Davis being the worst, a poorly written account of being Miles Davis oldest son, which was fascinating, but hamstrung by repetition and cliché. Stars in my Pocket like Grains of Sand (1984) by the eccentrically brilliant Samual R. Delany was a mild disappointment; it was complex and unique, but ultimately a bit pedestrian. Still, I’m pleased to have read it and the same can be said for many of the others I read in the last year, an adventure as always. This year promises a better organised personal library when I unpack all of my books and organise more shelving, you can’t just have piles of books balanced against walls in the corner of the room in a new house can you? Who knows what literary adventures await…?

Addenda: So, why a picture of Bowie on this post? Well, it's the ten year anniversary of his passing - 10th January 2016, he was a renowned lover of books and literature, a great lyricist and cultural mavin. Besides, I read a Bowie book this past year, We Could Be...Bowie and his Heroes (2021) by Tom Hagler, so that makes it legit!

Dark Magus: The Jekyll and Hyde Life of Miles Davis - Gregory Davis and Les Sussman (2006)

Rating: Mediocre

I absolutely love jazz, but I'm the first to admit that it is not for everyone. I've always advised the jazz novice to begin with Miles Davis, due to the fact that he both excelled at and helped create so many types of jazz that he offers something for everyone. It's just a matter of finding a way in, but if you want to read something to help you try and understand Mile Davis, then unfortunately Dark Magus is not that book. I found my copy in a pretty cool op-shop in Melbourne, it has a great cover and when I opened it the couple of paragraphs I read convinced me to spend all of five dollars to gain access to a family member's thoughts about the great man himself. Gregory Davis is Miles Davis's oldest son and as such he spent a great deal of time with him as his PA, bodyguard and general dogsbody. In the introduction Gregory promises "...not just another chronicle of his life and career..." and also that there are "...no sour grapes to this book..." He then proceeds to give a fairly chronological account of Miles family, his childhood and early years developing his jazz career. To be fair it does contain quite a bit of information that only a close family member would know, which is mostly interesting. As for the sour grapes, well, Gregory does go on to talk about being cut of the will (which is rightly something to be upset about), so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt there. Apart from the first six chapters, which covers Miles early years, most of the book does jump around in time and features chapters named after either albums or songs, such as Quiet Nights and Miles Ahead. Miles Davis had a career that was so multifaceted, influential and successful you'd think there would be no end of amazing anecdotes and obscure facts to bring to light. Well, they are there, but are buried within repetitious accounts of Miles moods, his impulsiveness, his women, his drugs and his apparent Jekyll and Hyde duel nature.

Miles Davis, contemplating his moodiness.

I can’t help but feel that Dark Magus is marred by Gregory Davis’s inherent closeness to his subject. It's not a book about Miles the music-maker, rather it is about Miles the moody patriarch. What is missing is some kind of insight into his music-making impulses. Miles seemed to be able to make the intangible tangible in his music, channelling something authentic from within to create some incredible music, perhaps the greatest in jazz, period. Another problem is that there’s not much in the way of revealing insights into his relationships with key musical colleagues, there’s Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie early on and Clark Terry (Bebop trumpeter) writes the foreword, but what about the likes of Wayne Shorter, Joe Zawinul and Herbie Hancock? Possibly Gregory was not privy to such musical relationships, despite being his eldest son (born in 1945), PA, bodyguard, whilst living with Miles on and off for years. It’s a shame, but I would not recommend Dark Magus to anyone interested in his music. It’s as much Gregory’s story as it is Miles, and that’s fair enough, but Dark Magus seems like a wasted opportunity. Also the quality of writing in Dark Magus is subpar at best and could have done with some judicious editing to improve the constant repetition and the banal style. For insights into Miles Davis the man, it's best to look elsewhere, such as Miles Davis: The Definitive Biography, by Ian Carr (1999), which I read in the era before I started writing this blog. Or perhaps Miles: The Autobiography, with Quincey Troupe (1990), which I haven't read, but Miles apparently over-uses the word 'motherfucker' a great deal, which sounds promising to me!