Chronicles, Volume One by Bob Dylan

I'm ashamed to admit it, but Bob Dylan's autobiographical first volume is my first real association with him. I knew he was a good songwriter, having heard enough of his songs (or at least enough covers of his songs) to generally agree; I knew he aspired to be a disciple of Woody Guthrie's (though with the exception of remembering "This Land Is Your Land" from elementary school chorus, I'm not sure I know much about Woody himself); and I knew he was married and had kids (his son, Jakob, is my age and lead singer for The Wallflowers, whom I like).

Here's what I discovered about Dylan: he is well-read in Beat authors like Kerouac and Ginsberg who defined so much of his coming of age, but also in classic and even contemporary authors; he is far more diplomatic in his politics and perspectives than I thought (especially in light of some of his songs, protest and otherwise); he has very much the heart of a family man, relentlessly trying to shield his wife and children from much of the press and publicity his music garnered and recoiling from the limelight whenever possible even today; and he is quite thoughtful and articulate, a real departure from so many of his slurred-lyric live performances and tired-looking appearances.

As a book, Chronicles, Volume One is a quirky, non-linear, amazingly detailed memoir of Dylan's early start, set mostly in New York and with a cast of interesting characters that rivals good fiction. Though the names and gigs get a little redundant after a while, Dylan's passion for songs - lots of them and good ones - is what struck me, as did his passion and teachability to do everything he could to learn more and more before he really ever started writing them.

As a respite from recalling the early years (made difficult as Dylan doesn't do that great of a job recounting any kind of chronology of significant events), the book makes a strange leap ahead to Dylan's late-80's career, including his involvement with Tom Petty and The Traveling Wilburys, but particularly focusing on the recording process of his New Morning album with U2 producer Daniel Lanois. This period of time (at least in this volume) was most interesting, as Dylan's recounting of all that the writing, rehearsing, and recording process is and was illustrates how much this man loves music.

Thankfully, reading Dylan write about his life makes me feel better about my lack of understanding of the person and artist as, according to him, everyone else in the world seems to have been as clueless as well. In essence (and as he has always been called), Dylan is indeed very much an enigma, one I look forward to figuring out a bit more through a new interest in his music and (eventually) his next volume of memoirs.