January 7, 2008
Even the full-on surrealist passage following his nemesis, the Mr Jones reporter, through hallucinatory visions is remarkable for its emotive power. The character follows Dylan badgering him, constantly questioning his motives. You realise it’s not just square society he represents but Dylan’s apostles and part of Dylan’s own psyche, that nagging paranoia, the voice that asks are you for real? The self-destructive side, the side that demands martyrs and sacrifices. And it makes sense why for all these years he’s been evading the media, dodging questions, answering with riddles. It’s a survival mechanism. When he takes that corner at Woodstock too sharply on his motorbike (depicted here as a screech of tyres just out of shot) and then uses his convalescence to retreat, his is a rare story of an artist stepping back from the brink, one who finally saves himself. Darran Anderson on Bob Dylan & I'm Not There.
January 4, 2008
I’m not that big a Poe fan. I respect him, of course, in the biggest way, and some of the stories are so fantastic, but what I saw most was the frustration. The writer who knows he has something to convey, yet never can quite get there. In Poe it’s the frustration that wins out: always broke, always suffering, never accomplishing that which he perceives he deserves. A life of misery and confusion, poverty and genius. Mark Vanner interviews Joel Rose.