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Tarantula
WINNER OF THE NOBEL PRIZE IN LITERATURE
Music legend Bob Dylan's only work of fiction—a combination of stream of consciousness prose, lyrics, and poetry that gives fans insight into one of the most influential singer-songwriters of our time.
Written in 1966, Tarantula is a collection of poems and prose that evokes the turbulence of the times in which it was written, and gives a unique insight into Dylan's creative evolution. It captures Bob Dylan's preoccupations at a crucial juncture in his artistic development, showcasing the imagination of a folk poet laureate who was able to combine the humanity and compassion of his country roots with the playful surrealism of modern art. Angry, funny, and strange, the poems and prose in this collection reflect the concerns found in Dylan's most seminal a sense of protest, a verbal playfulness and spontaneity, and a belief in the artistic legitimacy of chronicling everyday life and eccentricity on the street.
Music legend Bob Dylan's only work of fiction—a combination of stream of consciousness prose, lyrics, and poetry that gives fans insight into one of the most influential singer-songwriters of our time.
Written in 1966, Tarantula is a collection of poems and prose that evokes the turbulence of the times in which it was written, and gives a unique insight into Dylan's creative evolution. It captures Bob Dylan's preoccupations at a crucial juncture in his artistic development, showcasing the imagination of a folk poet laureate who was able to combine the humanity and compassion of his country roots with the playful surrealism of modern art. Angry, funny, and strange, the poems and prose in this collection reflect the concerns found in Dylan's most seminal a sense of protest, a verbal playfulness and spontaneity, and a belief in the artistic legitimacy of chronicling everyday life and eccentricity on the street.
144 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1971
About the author
Bob Dylan
526 books1,415 followersBob Dylan (born Robert Allen Zimmerman) is an American singer-songwriter, author, musician, poet, and, of late, disc jockey who has been a major figure in popular music for five decades. Much of Dylan's most celebrated work dates from the 1960s, when he became an informal chronicler and a reluctant figurehead of American unrest. A number of his songs, such as "Blowin' in the Wind" and "The Times They Are a-Changin'", became anthems of the anti-war and civil rights movements. His most recent studio album, Modern Times, released on August 29, 2006, entered the U.S. album charts at #1, making him, at age sixty five, the oldest living person to top those charts.
Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize in Literature (2016).
Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize in Literature (2016).
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 461 reviews
October 15, 2016
I have read some rather hilarious discussions over the last day across social media regarding Bob Dylan’s right, or lack thereof, to the noble literature prize.
One of the funniest was a rather lengthy post by an unnamed individual who defined “true literature.” According to his infinite wisdom, this excludes all poetry and song. You see, novels are the most complex form of literary expression because they are the longest and most thought out; therefore, Dylan isn’t literature. Another post claimed that literature is the written word, so Dylan’s work being spoken/sung means it’s also not literature: its music.
These people clearly have never read a poem so they should keep their ignorant mouths shut!
Now I had trouble not setting these people to rights. I mean opinion of the arts is always a subjective thing, highbrow or lowbrow, it’s all about personal reaction. But that is beside the point here. Objectively speaking, Dylan’s work is literature. There’s no two ways about it, no room for discussion, only fact. Words set to rhythm, with metre, are a form of poetry. Stick some instruments in the background and it becomes music, but it’s still poetry: they just become lyrics. People who fail to recognise this fact ignore the point of poetry. Most poetry is meant to be spoken, and some cannot be read without singing. Dylan’s work is literature, and for all his contribution to the arts he deserves the noble prize.
To say otherwise is to ignore countless generations of oral tradition, and by extension spit in the face of poetry itself. This collection of poetry here isn’t why Dylan won the prize. This is mainly experimental stuff and it isn’t as good as his music. It’s his lyricism that did it, but this seems an appropriate place to have a little rant about stupid people who don’t understand literature.
One of the funniest was a rather lengthy post by an unnamed individual who defined “true literature.” According to his infinite wisdom, this excludes all poetry and song. You see, novels are the most complex form of literary expression because they are the longest and most thought out; therefore, Dylan isn’t literature. Another post claimed that literature is the written word, so Dylan’s work being spoken/sung means it’s also not literature: its music.
These people clearly have never read a poem so they should keep their ignorant mouths shut!
Now I had trouble not setting these people to rights. I mean opinion of the arts is always a subjective thing, highbrow or lowbrow, it’s all about personal reaction. But that is beside the point here. Objectively speaking, Dylan’s work is literature. There’s no two ways about it, no room for discussion, only fact. Words set to rhythm, with metre, are a form of poetry. Stick some instruments in the background and it becomes music, but it’s still poetry: they just become lyrics. People who fail to recognise this fact ignore the point of poetry. Most poetry is meant to be spoken, and some cannot be read without singing. Dylan’s work is literature, and for all his contribution to the arts he deserves the noble prize.
To say otherwise is to ignore countless generations of oral tradition, and by extension spit in the face of poetry itself. This collection of poetry here isn’t why Dylan won the prize. This is mainly experimental stuff and it isn’t as good as his music. It’s his lyricism that did it, but this seems an appropriate place to have a little rant about stupid people who don’t understand literature.
October 13, 2016
What the mentally disturbed Dylanologists have never understood over the course of Zimmy’s six-decade spanning career is that to scour the man’s lyrics for hidden truths is a fool’s errand. It’s a simple trick to understand Bob Dylan, really: all you have to do is approach his lyrics at their apparent meaning. So when Dylan crows:
“Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"
there’s no need to dig further than the emotive qualities of the image itself. Dylan has always been something of a lyrical impressionist: his songs are tone poems which seek to promote feelings of unrest or longing or confusion or disenfranchisement or indignation depicted within the given snippet of narrative that Dylan loves to ornament his songs with. To deconstruct more rigorously is to miss the point—like trying to appreciate a painting with a microscope.
And so we come to the problem of Tarantula, Bob Dylan’s “novel” of 1966. First off, it is not a novel. It’s not even a collection of poems since most of the vignettes collected throughout defy even the most liberal application of that term. If anything, Tarantula is a catalog of Dylan’s brain storming. It’s a litany of images tacked together clumsily with an endless stream of ampersands (&). And if looked at that way, then you may get a few joys out of the book. Seeing as I am a fan of Dylan’s Jabberwockyesque depictions of deadbeats and outcasts, I was able to flip through this book pleasantly enough at first, smiling at young Dylan’s mischievous bursts of wordplay and absurdist wit. The best bits of the book were the letters with which he signs off every “chapter." These are just silly strands of concern or well-wishing that always end with humorous sign-offs like, “Stompingly yours, Lazy Henry,” or “Helpfully yours, Sir Cringe.” If Tarantula had been a collection of these letters with their terrific nonce-names, this would have been an easy four-star read. But even for a rabid fan like me, Tarantula is a repetitive read and somewhat of a chore to complete. There’s very little variety or significance to any one of the chapters so even the most spirited and good-willed reader is left with little to remember from the experience of thumbing through page after page.
All in all, this is a slight piece of literary salmagundi for only the most dedicated of Dylan fans to slobber over.
“Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"
there’s no need to dig further than the emotive qualities of the image itself. Dylan has always been something of a lyrical impressionist: his songs are tone poems which seek to promote feelings of unrest or longing or confusion or disenfranchisement or indignation depicted within the given snippet of narrative that Dylan loves to ornament his songs with. To deconstruct more rigorously is to miss the point—like trying to appreciate a painting with a microscope.
And so we come to the problem of Tarantula, Bob Dylan’s “novel” of 1966. First off, it is not a novel. It’s not even a collection of poems since most of the vignettes collected throughout defy even the most liberal application of that term. If anything, Tarantula is a catalog of Dylan’s brain storming. It’s a litany of images tacked together clumsily with an endless stream of ampersands (&). And if looked at that way, then you may get a few joys out of the book. Seeing as I am a fan of Dylan’s Jabberwockyesque depictions of deadbeats and outcasts, I was able to flip through this book pleasantly enough at first, smiling at young Dylan’s mischievous bursts of wordplay and absurdist wit. The best bits of the book were the letters with which he signs off every “chapter." These are just silly strands of concern or well-wishing that always end with humorous sign-offs like, “Stompingly yours, Lazy Henry,” or “Helpfully yours, Sir Cringe.” If Tarantula had been a collection of these letters with their terrific nonce-names, this would have been an easy four-star read. But even for a rabid fan like me, Tarantula is a repetitive read and somewhat of a chore to complete. There’s very little variety or significance to any one of the chapters so even the most spirited and good-willed reader is left with little to remember from the experience of thumbing through page after page.
All in all, this is a slight piece of literary salmagundi for only the most dedicated of Dylan fans to slobber over.
Read
October 16, 2016Closing my Nobel Laureate reviews for this year with a contribution to my Irony Removal Course, with only a tiny bit of copy and paste, as I can not put it better than the cynical initial publishing house, worshipping mammon just as much as its rock star author.
The original publisher’s note speaks for itself:
“In the fall of 1966, we were to publish Bob Dylan’s “first book”. Other publishers were envious. “You’ll sell a lot of copies of that”, they said, not really knowing what THAT was, except that IT was by Bob Dylan. A magic name then. “Besides, look how many copies of John Lennon’s book were sold. This would be twice as big - maybe more!” Didn’t matter what was in it.”
The deification process had already started and the songwriter could do no wrong. Good thing I do not have to consider what is in it, because I have spent a fruitless Saturday trying to make an ever so tiny bit of sense out of the rambling cocktail of words thrown into the “novel” hidden behind the bestselling cover of its author’s name and fame. Glancing at the autobiographical Chronicles to shed some light on the text, I find something that may offer an explanation:
"I'd come from a long ways off and had started a long ways down. But now destiny was about to manifest itself. I felt like it was looking right at me and nobody else."
I have heard that before. In my quest to make sense of Coelho’s The Alchemist, which I consider one of the lamest examples of overrated literature, but at least, as literature (trashy as it may be), I stumbled several times over the idea that if you really want something, all universe will conspire to help you achieve it. That is what happened, I think. And all universe in its incarnation as the Swedish Academy actually served Bob Dylan a Nobel Prize in Literature on a plate. What a wonderful, wonderful world …
So Brazil: there is hope for your Nobel-worthy rambling prophet. He might win the trophy next year. In the meantime, I’ll be reviewing my music and art. You never know!
The original publisher’s note speaks for itself:
“In the fall of 1966, we were to publish Bob Dylan’s “first book”. Other publishers were envious. “You’ll sell a lot of copies of that”, they said, not really knowing what THAT was, except that IT was by Bob Dylan. A magic name then. “Besides, look how many copies of John Lennon’s book were sold. This would be twice as big - maybe more!” Didn’t matter what was in it.”
The deification process had already started and the songwriter could do no wrong. Good thing I do not have to consider what is in it, because I have spent a fruitless Saturday trying to make an ever so tiny bit of sense out of the rambling cocktail of words thrown into the “novel” hidden behind the bestselling cover of its author’s name and fame. Glancing at the autobiographical Chronicles to shed some light on the text, I find something that may offer an explanation:
"I'd come from a long ways off and had started a long ways down. But now destiny was about to manifest itself. I felt like it was looking right at me and nobody else."
I have heard that before. In my quest to make sense of Coelho’s The Alchemist, which I consider one of the lamest examples of overrated literature, but at least, as literature (trashy as it may be), I stumbled several times over the idea that if you really want something, all universe will conspire to help you achieve it. That is what happened, I think. And all universe in its incarnation as the Swedish Academy actually served Bob Dylan a Nobel Prize in Literature on a plate. What a wonderful, wonderful world …
So Brazil: there is hope for your Nobel-worthy rambling prophet. He might win the trophy next year. In the meantime, I’ll be reviewing my music and art. You never know!
June 14, 2011
CAUTION: THIS BOOK IS NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY. So said Bob Dylan. If you try to make sense of it, your skull will crack open, grey matter will slither out and run down the street, leaving your brainstem flapping a frantic goodbye.
February 8, 2012
Bob Dylan has a beautiful mind.
He was said to be one of the strong contenders in last year’s Nobel Prize for Literature. “Huh? Bob Dylan is a poet?” We all know about his “Blowing in the Wind” popularized by Peter, Paul and Mary from the 60’s. My brother used to listen to his music although he preferred the other Bob, Bob Marley. So, whenever he listened to either, I had no choice but to listen also since there were no earphones at home when we were growing up. It was just a radio or cassette player so one’s music (radio station, record, cassette tape, genre, etc) becomes everyone’s favorite.
So, when I heard that news, even if he later lost to Tomas Transtromer, I bought this book. “Any work by Bob Dylan,” said I to the sales clerk in my favorite bookstore. So, I got this one. Read the blurbs. Hmmm. Interesting: “Tarantula, Dylan’s only fictional book, was written in 1966 during the creative peak that produced Blonde on Blonde (I don’t know what that is). Reminiscent of Dylan’s best songs, it is essential reading for anyone interested in his creative process.” Read the About the Author page. Hmmm. He is this guy! I know him!: “Born in 1941, Bob Dylan is widely revered as America’s greatest living popular songwriter. In the course of a career that has spanned over forty years, he has acted as voice-piece and chronicler to several generations, and was one of the first to channel public feeling about racial discrimination and the Vietnam war into popular protest songs.” Of course, of course. He was that guy singing during Vietnam war protest against the American government. Of course, of course. That was during the 60’s and “Blowing in the Wind” was a protest song. Much like our own Freddie Aguilar during the EDSA Revolution in the 80’s singing “Bayan Ko” with the people going against President Marcos.
I said that Bob Dylan has a beautiful mind not only because of “Blowing in the Wind” but particularly and especially because of this book. First few pages. I stopped. I did not like it. I could not follow. Prose-poetry-prose-poetry… What is this all about? His style, just like his songs, defies conventions. His language is from the street. He does not use proper punctuations. His sentences are fragmented. His thoughts are scattered. He uses “&” instead of “and.” He mentions things that only native Americans probably know. The work has no plot. He speaks in riddles just like James Joyce.
But I let the words grow on me while reading. Then it sparked images, slowly but surely. The images of the 60’s. The Flower generation. Peace not Love. The hippies. Woodstock. Free love. The bombing of Saigon. The dead Americans. Relatives of dead soldiers opening the letter announcing the sad news. The anti-war protest. The fall of Saigon. The Nixon administration. The Watergate Scandal. All these images parading before my eyes while reading this book. My nerves were unnerved. I gasped for air. I was soothed by the beauty of the words. I was carried away to his time. I reminisced. Then I remembered some of the lines from "Blowing in the Wind." I almost cried.
I’ll say it again: Bob Dylan. Has. A. Beautiful. Mind.
He was said to be one of the strong contenders in last year’s Nobel Prize for Literature. “Huh? Bob Dylan is a poet?” We all know about his “Blowing in the Wind” popularized by Peter, Paul and Mary from the 60’s. My brother used to listen to his music although he preferred the other Bob, Bob Marley. So, whenever he listened to either, I had no choice but to listen also since there were no earphones at home when we were growing up. It was just a radio or cassette player so one’s music (radio station, record, cassette tape, genre, etc) becomes everyone’s favorite.
So, when I heard that news, even if he later lost to Tomas Transtromer, I bought this book. “Any work by Bob Dylan,” said I to the sales clerk in my favorite bookstore. So, I got this one. Read the blurbs. Hmmm. Interesting: “Tarantula, Dylan’s only fictional book, was written in 1966 during the creative peak that produced Blonde on Blonde (I don’t know what that is). Reminiscent of Dylan’s best songs, it is essential reading for anyone interested in his creative process.” Read the About the Author page. Hmmm. He is this guy! I know him!: “Born in 1941, Bob Dylan is widely revered as America’s greatest living popular songwriter. In the course of a career that has spanned over forty years, he has acted as voice-piece and chronicler to several generations, and was one of the first to channel public feeling about racial discrimination and the Vietnam war into popular protest songs.” Of course, of course. He was that guy singing during Vietnam war protest against the American government. Of course, of course. That was during the 60’s and “Blowing in the Wind” was a protest song. Much like our own Freddie Aguilar during the EDSA Revolution in the 80’s singing “Bayan Ko” with the people going against President Marcos.
I said that Bob Dylan has a beautiful mind not only because of “Blowing in the Wind” but particularly and especially because of this book. First few pages. I stopped. I did not like it. I could not follow. Prose-poetry-prose-poetry… What is this all about? His style, just like his songs, defies conventions. His language is from the street. He does not use proper punctuations. His sentences are fragmented. His thoughts are scattered. He uses “&” instead of “and.” He mentions things that only native Americans probably know. The work has no plot. He speaks in riddles just like James Joyce.
But I let the words grow on me while reading. Then it sparked images, slowly but surely. The images of the 60’s. The Flower generation. Peace not Love. The hippies. Woodstock. Free love. The bombing of Saigon. The dead Americans. Relatives of dead soldiers opening the letter announcing the sad news. The anti-war protest. The fall of Saigon. The Nixon administration. The Watergate Scandal. All these images parading before my eyes while reading this book. My nerves were unnerved. I gasped for air. I was soothed by the beauty of the words. I was carried away to his time. I reminisced. Then I remembered some of the lines from "Blowing in the Wind." I almost cried.
I’ll say it again: Bob Dylan. Has. A. Beautiful. Mind.
Read
September 13, 2024Є сумніви що я свідомо прослухала хоч одну пісню Боба Ділана, хіба що вони потрапили до якогось саундтреку, тож ніяких очікувань не було.
Спочатку я прочитала текст як вірші, без приміток, щоб не втрачати ритм.
Потім післямову, потім примітки.
На диво не було матюччя. Можливо воно б прикрасило навіть.
Прочитати нескладно, ще б зрозуміти).
Відчувається вайб останніх тарантинівських фільмів, причому пошматованих і змонтованих в довільному порядку. Також Кормак наш і уся ця південна готика. А ми напевно трохи сильно не в контексті, щоб отримати чисте безпримісне задоволення.
Спочатку я прочитала текст як вірші, без приміток, щоб не втрачати ритм.
Потім післямову, потім примітки.
На диво не було матюччя. Можливо воно б прикрасило навіть.
Прочитати нескладно, ще б зрозуміти).
Відчувається вайб останніх тарантинівських фільмів, причому пошматованих і змонтованих в довільному порядку. Також Кормак наш і уся ця південна готика. А ми напевно трохи сильно не в контексті, щоб отримати чисте безпримісне задоволення.
April 16, 2008
Bob Dylan can do anything.
See Excerpt, I think it was hysterical.
"…look you asshole – tho I might be nothing but a butter sculptor, I refuse to go on working with the idea of your praising my reward – like what are your credentials anyway? Except for talking about all us butter sculptors, what else do you do? Do you know what it feels like to make some butter sculpture? Do you know what it feels like to actually ooze that butter around & create something of fantastic worth? You said that my last year’s work “The Kings Odor” was great & then you say I haven’t done anything as great since – just who the hell are you talking to anyway? You must have something to do in your real life – I understand tha you praised the piece you saw yesterday entitled “The Monkey Taster” about which you said meant “a nice work of butter carved into the shape of a young man who likes only African women” you are an idiot – it doesn’t mean that at all…I hereby want nothing to do with your hang-ups-I really don’t care what you think of my work as I now know you don’t understand it anyway…I must go now-I have this new hunk of margarine waiting in the bathtub – yes I said MARGARINE & next week I just might decide to use cream cheese - & I really don’t care what you think of my experimenting – yhou take yourself too seriously – you’re going to get an ulcer and go to the hospital-they’ll put you in a ward where you can’t have any visitors-you’ll go right off your nut-I really don’t care anymore-I am so bored with your rules and regulations that I might not even talk to you again-just remember tho, when you evaluate a piece of butter, you are talking about yourself, so you’d better sign your name…see you if you’re lucky at Mrs. Keelers cake festival.
Yours,
Snowplow Floater
p.s – you’re my friend & I’m trying to help you"
See Excerpt, I think it was hysterical.
"…look you asshole – tho I might be nothing but a butter sculptor, I refuse to go on working with the idea of your praising my reward – like what are your credentials anyway? Except for talking about all us butter sculptors, what else do you do? Do you know what it feels like to make some butter sculpture? Do you know what it feels like to actually ooze that butter around & create something of fantastic worth? You said that my last year’s work “The Kings Odor” was great & then you say I haven’t done anything as great since – just who the hell are you talking to anyway? You must have something to do in your real life – I understand tha you praised the piece you saw yesterday entitled “The Monkey Taster” about which you said meant “a nice work of butter carved into the shape of a young man who likes only African women” you are an idiot – it doesn’t mean that at all…I hereby want nothing to do with your hang-ups-I really don’t care what you think of my work as I now know you don’t understand it anyway…I must go now-I have this new hunk of margarine waiting in the bathtub – yes I said MARGARINE & next week I just might decide to use cream cheese - & I really don’t care what you think of my experimenting – yhou take yourself too seriously – you’re going to get an ulcer and go to the hospital-they’ll put you in a ward where you can’t have any visitors-you’ll go right off your nut-I really don’t care anymore-I am so bored with your rules and regulations that I might not even talk to you again-just remember tho, when you evaluate a piece of butter, you are talking about yourself, so you’d better sign your name…see you if you’re lucky at Mrs. Keelers cake festival.
Yours,
Snowplow Floater
p.s – you’re my friend & I’m trying to help you"
October 12, 2024
Тарантул плести павутину не вміє, а от Боб Ділан робить це майстерно: симетричне переплетення прози та поезії - краса!
March 20, 2024
“edgar allan poe steps out from behind a burning bush.. He sees edgar. ‘it’s not your time yet’ and strikes him dead.”
i have no idea what bob dylan was on when he wrote this but i LOVE it. instantly a favorite.
i have no idea what bob dylan was on when he wrote this but i LOVE it. instantly a favorite.
October 19, 2016
Dylan entremeia uma prosa poética de fluxo de consciência com poemas epistolares, tudo isso numa verve deveras beatnik.
November 1, 2024
Боб Ділан
"Тарантул"
переспівав Master Max
"іди сюди на світло аврааме..."
В ехолалійному музичному трансі відбувалося борсання в павутині. Цейво, вовтузіння не без приємності.
Без даху "без вікон та й між релігійних стегон арети та й порух знайди собі німфу без совісті та й бомбардуй свою юну чутливу гідність поки бачиш раз та й назавжди чи є діри та й музика у всесвіті та й с��остерігай як вона приборкує морського коника/ арета, визнана хористами та й іншими перламамами як надто похмура та дуже відьомська та й хіба ти не знаєш веселих пісень"
Зловлював якісь мітологічні конотації, переслухував тематичні пісні (Misty, Black Betty etc.) Слухав музику, слухав музику тексту. Махав головою. Колисався, як Лобанівський. І ніяк не міг вихуїти. "ворожість то не про мене"
"давай- пурхай свою містичну баладу - о переслідуваний та й полохливий"
Але врешті-ж-то-решт мушу сказати, що Master Max практично що переспівав для нас цю книгу заново (до прикладу розділ "Дивна пиятика з довготелесим чужинцем"). Ніщинський та Руданський же ж називали свої переклади Гомера ("твій друг шльондра гомер") переспівами. В танцівливому па знімаю капелюха, думаю, що перекладати було це на стільки весело на стільки ж і важко. (Деякі каламбури довелося змінити, наприклад , Ромео не випускає вітри, а стає чмом) І це вже не згадуючи просто неймовірну кількість приміток!
"в обмін на деяку інформацію я дам тобі свої платівки"
Ця книга далекоглядна хоча б тому, що Ділан передбачив ажіотаж трансґегдерів і трансвеститів: "тата підвищили до матрони нашого кубла, тому не все пішло під укіс/ мама вступила до майбутніх отців аляски". Порівняймо зі словами нашого сучасного філософа-антрополога Пана Романа: "В Міші сім'я, рахуй, розпаласє. Жінка пішла до Уляни, малий став тим.. квадрокоптєром. А Міша каже: -Я себе ідентифікую, як Галина. Кажіт на мене він-вона. Місько/Галина"
"жонглери які звуть тебе не тим ім'ям та й титулують тебе пораненим кошеням - їм так легко не знати жодної казки..."
Типові постмодерністи засипають читача посиланнями на попередні літературні твори, Ділан перенасичує свою книжку сотнями імен виконавців та піснями, назви яких більшість українських читачів побачать чи не вперше. Тому тут має бути постійно увімкнений Ютуб м'юзік або Спотіфай.
"Чума-Малюк - веде хрестовий похід у блюзовому вимірі"
Ділан живе музикою (звук святий), дихає музикою, снить і галюцинує музикою, плюється і випожнюється музикою. "Істерично - мелодія в Істеричному - на відміну від музики яка пропонує всі звуки що роблять життя існувальним окрм музики тиші..." Всі ці процеси читач-слухач має приємність, або неприємність споглядати в "Тарантулі".
"дозвольте ідеям втілити вас, та й поговорити з мелодією"
Причетник всього покидає смутне узбережжя, самотній барде востаннє йому заспівай.
Las palmeras lloran por u ausencia
La laguna se seco – ay!
La cerca de alambre que estaba en…
бувай,
твій приятель,
запопадливо четвертований
Авраам Я.Х.В.Х.
"Тарантул"
переспівав Master Max
"іди сюди на світло аврааме..."
В ехолалійному музичному трансі відбувалося борсання в павутині. Цейво, вовтузіння не без приємності.
Без даху "без вікон та й між релігійних стегон арети та й порух знайди собі німфу без совісті та й бомбардуй свою юну чутливу гідність поки бачиш раз та й назавжди чи є діри та й музика у всесвіті та й с��остерігай як вона приборкує морського коника/ арета, визнана хористами та й іншими перламамами як надто похмура та дуже відьомська та й хіба ти не знаєш веселих пісень"
Зловлював якісь мітологічні конотації, переслухував тематичні пісні (Misty, Black Betty etc.) Слухав музику, слухав музику тексту. Махав головою. Колисався, як Лобанівський. І ніяк не міг вихуїти. "ворожість то не про мене"
"давай- пурхай свою містичну баладу - о переслідуваний та й полохливий"
Але врешті-ж-то-решт мушу сказати, що Master Max практично що переспівав для нас цю книгу заново (до прикладу розділ "Дивна пиятика з довготелесим чужинцем"). Ніщинський та Руданський же ж називали свої переклади Гомера ("твій друг шльондра гомер") переспівами. В танцівливому па знімаю капелюха, думаю, що перекладати було це на стільки весело на стільки ж і важко. (Деякі каламбури довелося змінити, наприклад , Ромео не випускає вітри, а стає чмом) І це вже не згадуючи просто неймовірну кількість приміток!
"в обмін на деяку інформацію я дам тобі свої платівки"
Ця книга далекоглядна хоча б тому, що Ділан передбачив ажіотаж трансґегдерів і трансвеститів: "тата підвищили до матрони нашого кубла, тому не все пішло під укіс/ мама вступила до майбутніх отців аляски". Порівняймо зі словами нашого сучасного філософа-антрополога Пана Романа: "В Міші сім'я, рахуй, розпаласє. Жінка пішла до Уляни, малий став тим.. квадрокоптєром. А Міша каже: -Я себе ідентифікую, як Галина. Кажіт на мене він-вона. Місько/Галина"
"жонглери які звуть тебе не тим ім'ям та й титулують тебе пораненим кошеням - їм так легко не знати жодної казки..."
Типові постмодерністи засипають читача посиланнями на попередні літературні твори, Ділан перенасичує свою книжку сотнями імен виконавців та піснями, назви яких більшість українських читачів побачать чи не вперше. Тому тут має бути постійно увімкнений Ютуб м'юзік або Спотіфай.
"Чума-Малюк - веде хрестовий похід у блюзовому вимірі"
Ділан живе музикою (звук святий), дихає музикою, снить і галюцинує музикою, плюється і випожнюється музикою. "Істерично - мелодія в Істеричному - на відміну від музики яка пропонує всі звуки що роблять життя існувальним окрм музики тиші..." Всі ці процеси читач-слухач має приємність, або неприємність споглядати в "Тарантулі".
"дозвольте ідеям втілити вас, та й поговорити з мелодією"
Причетник всього покидає смутне узбережжя, самотній барде востаннє йому заспівай.
Las palmeras lloran por u ausencia
La laguna se seco – ay!
La cerca de alambre que estaba en…
бувай,
твій приятель,
запопадливо четвертований
Авраам Я.Х.В.Х.
April 13, 2018
I found this quite hard to read because Dylan's writing is so intensely saturated with images of his consumer culture, people, objects and his critiques of capitalism. I mean those are all good stuff, but intense is not really what I needed right now.
Nevertheless, from listening to his music daily I greatly appreciate the power of Dylan's words, and in relation to the 60s counter-culture this was a collection I thought was incredibly powerful in terms of the movement he came to define. He really was deserving of the Nobel Prize - I know people don't consider him a poet, but there aren't a lot of people who can use writing as protest as well as Dylan did.
Nevertheless, from listening to his music daily I greatly appreciate the power of Dylan's words, and in relation to the 60s counter-culture this was a collection I thought was incredibly powerful in terms of the movement he came to define. He really was deserving of the Nobel Prize - I know people don't consider him a poet, but there aren't a lot of people who can use writing as protest as well as Dylan did.
June 26, 2011
This was just an incredibly bad collection of poems and prose poems that Dylan wrote in the '60's under loads of pressure to deliver a book that he'd been paid an advance on almost 3 years prior to publication. Unreadable comes to mind here. I did not have high expectations going into reading this collection, but could not have been prepared for just how bad it was. I really hope that in his current book deal he is not considering publishing any more poems. I don't know if both he and the publisher thought that his strength as a song writer could carry him in this endeavor.
December 18, 2008
This book sucks, I think Bob wrote it on the toilet when he was on acid and then accidently sent it in to a publisher. They must have thought Bob Dylan = instant money on sales. Wrong. Love the man's music, this book sucks. This is coming from someone that owns 31 of his albums and loves his stuff too.
August 19, 2009
Bob Dylan is all about the compounding of words. After I read this book, I headed to university. People have dry-erase boards on their doors for messages in rooming houses for students, probably in residences, too. Every night while everyone was out at the bars, I would write Tarantula-esque letters to people on their boards. It got to be a thing, and people really looked forward to their weird letters. Some others got so into it, they too started the trend. When I read this book, I couldn't help but laugh. You NEVER expect what Dylan will come out with next. If you like words, if you like imagery, you might appreciate the stylings of Mr. Bob Dylan. And if you dig Dylan, well, check it out. It is no wonder he wrote the songs he did, having the imagination and word skills to create a thing like TARANTULA.
September 16, 2015
Reviews are bull.
Critics are pitiful.
It's art, man- if you're not out there somehow topping the unstoppable folks that have words & songs & paint coming out of their pores---well I don't know, I guess go buy a framed print that says 'live laugh love'
Critics are pitiful.
It's art, man- if you're not out there somehow topping the unstoppable folks that have words & songs & paint coming out of their pores---well I don't know, I guess go buy a framed print that says 'live laugh love'
March 18, 2023
This is a stream of consciousness type of narrative with a few episodes of poetry that, overall, comes across as really chaotic, experimental and strange. The book was conceived during the most visionary years of Bob Dylan's musical career, so I believe it helps understand the creative process of one of the greatest songwriters in history, but I wouldn't recommend it to someone who isn't exactly passionate about Dylan's wonderful music. I'm also not sure why this is called Tarantula. Maybe it's an image connected to his dreams, because there's an undercurrent of surrealism here and the meaning of dreams plays a critical role in that cultural movement. I think tarantulas also symbolize change and he was in a constant state of metamorphosis, writing songs that expressed the social and political turmoils that brought about significant changes to the world, during that same era. But for now it's all just a speculation. I read somewhere that Tarantula was also influenced by Rimbaud, though I'm yet to read his poetry.
Overall, this is a weird little book that I can't really understand, but it was a pleasure to read regardless and I think it provides a valuable insight into Dylan's fascinating psyche during the 60's. I appreciate it for what it is.
Overall, this is a weird little book that I can't really understand, but it was a pleasure to read regardless and I think it provides a valuable insight into Dylan's fascinating psyche during the 60's. I appreciate it for what it is.
August 10, 2011
dear mergatroid
if all i gotta do to be a big star is act naturally, then by next year i oughta be even bigger than roger miller! i heard the beatles didnt even get norwegian wood right until the 4th try. n while the heat pipes been coughin, i been checkin out the rainman from yesterday cryin downtown in the alley. sent me up like a rainy day woman he did. now, louise tells me some group called lovin spoonful are gonna be here next week with 1352 others, she says by the end of the year even the record company sharks will be drinkin champagne from their coffins. always did like yr lbj impression! homer, truman, popeye, sam (peckin’ paw, not georgia) & the rest r all battlin it out on the tea tray & i would have sent ya a message earlier but the mail train was delayed (they claim). by the way i switched to winstons this year. but hey now that i’ve got my 22/40 smith & corona back they’ve even given me an advance. now i’m all set, you’ll see! with all them tired horses n the sun how will i get any writin done?
yr friend ever
lucky "lefty" wheelberry
p.s. i think you are funny, too.
if all i gotta do to be a big star is act naturally, then by next year i oughta be even bigger than roger miller! i heard the beatles didnt even get norwegian wood right until the 4th try. n while the heat pipes been coughin, i been checkin out the rainman from yesterday cryin downtown in the alley. sent me up like a rainy day woman he did. now, louise tells me some group called lovin spoonful are gonna be here next week with 1352 others, she says by the end of the year even the record company sharks will be drinkin champagne from their coffins. always did like yr lbj impression! homer, truman, popeye, sam (peckin’ paw, not georgia) & the rest r all battlin it out on the tea tray & i would have sent ya a message earlier but the mail train was delayed (they claim). by the way i switched to winstons this year. but hey now that i’ve got my 22/40 smith & corona back they’ve even given me an advance. now i’m all set, you’ll see! with all them tired horses n the sun how will i get any writin done?
yr friend ever
lucky "lefty" wheelberry
p.s. i think you are funny, too.
Want to read
December 23, 2014So Ian Bell, whose Dylan bio is fucking amazing, and who gives no quarter at all on bullshit, has convinced me to give this another chance, because he sees merit in it. No doubt, it's still a failure, but he makes the argument that it's not near as bad as its detractors make it out to be (and not near as good as Dylan wanted it to be). Any case, I only rifled it before dismissing it. Bobby, I give you the benefit of the doubt on all doubts, so I'll see you on this one again. I'll also take the opportunity here to reiterate: Bell's The Lives Of Bob Dylan is phenomenal!
January 18, 2023
It's... okay. On a meta-level, the fact that this was marketed as a novel is the type of prank that I imagine Dylan really enjoyed. The actual writing itself is obviously very loose and chaotic, but there's also plenty to enjoy in the imagery and humour of it all. It still feels pretty thrown together and I wouldn't recommend it to a casual fan, but it was worth a read.
January 15, 2014
It doesn't have to make sense to be wonderful.
December 3, 2017
What a joke
February 6, 2024
as the story goes, bob would carry around a box of words and mix them up in random ways to write songs. this book feels like the entire box dumped out onto the table. very nonsensical and basically just a collection of words.
more of a curio than a serious literary contribution by the nobel prize winner. even still, there were some very funny abstract absurdisms peppered throughout that made it worthwhile to read.
more of a curio than a serious literary contribution by the nobel prize winner. even still, there were some very funny abstract absurdisms peppered throughout that made it worthwhile to read.
June 20, 2017
Mit dem Schrifsteller Bob Dylan werde ich es in Zukunft so handhaben, wie mit dem Musiker Bob Dylan: Ich schätze und bewundere das Werk und den Künstler, doch wirklich viel Zeit widme ich dem Schaffen nicht. Das hat aber weniger mit Qualität und Anspruch des Werkes zu tun, sondern mehr an meinem persönlichen Geschmack.
Mit "Tarantel" habe ich mir aber nun doch den ersten Roman der amerikanischen Legende zu Gemüte geführt - mit einigen Überraschungen. Handelt es sich bei diesem, 1971 erstmals erschienenen Werkes doch um eine Sammlung surrealer Texte ohne grossen Zusammenhang. Dylan wirft Prosa, Erzählung, Syntax und Struktur komplett über den Haufen und formt kurze Geschichten, die eher einem verwirrten Bewusstseinsstrom als stringenter Erzählung gleichen. In kurzen Kapiteln werden merkwürdige Figuren und komische Szenerien zusammengeknüllt, nur um immer mit einem sehr befremdenden Brief abgeschlossen zu werden.
Bob Dylan greift dabei auf versteckte Gesellschaftskritik, unzählige Referenzen auf die Popkultur und Politik der 60er-Jahre und extremen Slapstick zurück. Das macht vereinzelt Spass und fordert immer, wirklich erschlossen hat sich mir allerdings zu wenig für eine lohnenswerte Lektüre. Sicherlich ist es fatal, diese Texte als "Schund" abzutun - und meine Wertung von zwei Sternen soll dies auch gar nicht aussagen.
Vielmehr entzieht sich "Tarantel" einem Vergleich mit Standard-Literatur oder gar den Songtexten von Dylan, und ist ein eigener Kosmos, der einem überbordenden Kopf entsprungen ist. Für Rätsellöser, Kulturforscher und Buchstabenzauberer aber bestimmt einen Blick wert.
Mit "Tarantel" habe ich mir aber nun doch den ersten Roman der amerikanischen Legende zu Gemüte geführt - mit einigen Überraschungen. Handelt es sich bei diesem, 1971 erstmals erschienenen Werkes doch um eine Sammlung surrealer Texte ohne grossen Zusammenhang. Dylan wirft Prosa, Erzählung, Syntax und Struktur komplett über den Haufen und formt kurze Geschichten, die eher einem verwirrten Bewusstseinsstrom als stringenter Erzählung gleichen. In kurzen Kapiteln werden merkwürdige Figuren und komische Szenerien zusammengeknüllt, nur um immer mit einem sehr befremdenden Brief abgeschlossen zu werden.
Bob Dylan greift dabei auf versteckte Gesellschaftskritik, unzählige Referenzen auf die Popkultur und Politik der 60er-Jahre und extremen Slapstick zurück. Das macht vereinzelt Spass und fordert immer, wirklich erschlossen hat sich mir allerdings zu wenig für eine lohnenswerte Lektüre. Sicherlich ist es fatal, diese Texte als "Schund" abzutun - und meine Wertung von zwei Sternen soll dies auch gar nicht aussagen.
Vielmehr entzieht sich "Tarantel" einem Vergleich mit Standard-Literatur oder gar den Songtexten von Dylan, und ist ein eigener Kosmos, der einem überbordenden Kopf entsprungen ist. Für Rätsellöser, Kulturforscher und Buchstabenzauberer aber bestimmt einen Blick wert.
September 18, 2011
I will start by stating that I'm heavily biased, in that I adore Bob Dylan. His writing is like experimental jazz: on the fly, off the cuff, vibrant, rattles inside your bones, offers that warm-burn an extended hand toward a campfire provides. If you like his lyrics from the 60s (that's also the timeframe in which he wrote Tarantula), read this collection of poems and prose. It's as simple as that. A narrative description of the book is fruitless; it's a spontaneous work of poetic genius. Read it aloud and you'll be hooked. A line from the text, "... resign from mind the heart of light & approve the doom, the bending & the farce of happy ending..."
March 19, 2019
"ova zemlja je tvoja zemlja & ova zemlja je moja zemlja - nema frke - ali svetom upravljaju oni koji ionako nikad ne slušaju muziku"
May 26, 2020
Narativno nečitljiv i nerazumljiv, etiketiran zbog svojih vizionarskih pogleda, predvodnik zamršenih stihova, slučajni tvorac aluzivnog nadrealizma... Bob Dylan je primjer ljudskog lutanja za istinom. Savršen u svojoj nesavršenosti.
March 23, 2018
Iz mog prikaza srpskog izdanja Tarantule sa predgovorom prof.Zorana Paunovića objavljenog na sajtu StereoArt
...Tražiti smisao u bilo kom poglavlju romana „Tarantula“ kurčeva je rabota. U nekim poglavljima je to još i moguće, ali vrlo nategnuto, u većini je skroz nemoguće. Dakle, ili nas Dylan zajebava (što ne bi bilo ni prvi, a bogami ni poslednji put) ili je potrebno ovom tekstu pristupiti sa neke druge strane. Ako nas zajebava, možemo da se tešimo da je zajebao ne samo nas, već i Nobelov komitet. Ako je ozbiljan, moramo da se vratimo onoj drugoj opciji. Da pristupimo tekstu sa druge strane. Mislim da je prevodilac ovog romana na srpski jezik, koji je i jedan od najvećih dilanologa u Srbiji, profesor Zoran Paunović, najbliži njegovom ispravnom tumačenju. Citiram: ...Jer „Tarantula“ je knjiga koja se bavi isključivo sama sobom i govori isključivo o sebi samoj. To je spontani nadrealistički iskaz ispisan tehnikom toka svesti, naglašeno egzibicionistička jezička igrarija u kojoj, pre bilo kakvih smislenih asocijacija i racionalnih razjašnjenja treba tražiti muziku i ritam. Dilanov svet je muzika. Njegove reči, i kad nisu otpevane, na slušaoca ili čitaoca deluju pre svega na nekom iracionalnom , instinktivnom nivou...Ovo delo ne treba odgonetati, niti ga treba „razumeti“ u bilo kom uobičajenom smislu te reči. Treba ga čitati naglas, bez agresivnog učitavanja i štreberskog traženja smisla. Ono nešto neuhvatljivo, što ostane posle takvog čitanja, to je muzika. A ona je, srećom, izvan i iznad svakog razuma“. Kraj citata iz predgovora knjige „Tarantula“ Bob Dylana, Geopoetika, Beograd, 2017....
...Tražiti smisao u bilo kom poglavlju romana „Tarantula“ kurčeva je rabota. U nekim poglavljima je to još i moguće, ali vrlo nategnuto, u većini je skroz nemoguće. Dakle, ili nas Dylan zajebava (što ne bi bilo ni prvi, a bogami ni poslednji put) ili je potrebno ovom tekstu pristupiti sa neke druge strane. Ako nas zajebava, možemo da se tešimo da je zajebao ne samo nas, već i Nobelov komitet. Ako je ozbiljan, moramo da se vratimo onoj drugoj opciji. Da pristupimo tekstu sa druge strane. Mislim da je prevodilac ovog romana na srpski jezik, koji je i jedan od najvećih dilanologa u Srbiji, profesor Zoran Paunović, najbliži njegovom ispravnom tumačenju. Citiram: ...Jer „Tarantula“ je knjiga koja se bavi isključivo sama sobom i govori isključivo o sebi samoj. To je spontani nadrealistički iskaz ispisan tehnikom toka svesti, naglašeno egzibicionistička jezička igrarija u kojoj, pre bilo kakvih smislenih asocijacija i racionalnih razjašnjenja treba tražiti muziku i ritam. Dilanov svet je muzika. Njegove reči, i kad nisu otpevane, na slušaoca ili čitaoca deluju pre svega na nekom iracionalnom , instinktivnom nivou...Ovo delo ne treba odgonetati, niti ga treba „razumeti“ u bilo kom uobičajenom smislu te reči. Treba ga čitati naglas, bez agresivnog učitavanja i štreberskog traženja smisla. Ono nešto neuhvatljivo, što ostane posle takvog čitanja, to je muzika. A ona je, srećom, izvan i iznad svakog razuma“. Kraj citata iz predgovora knjige „Tarantula“ Bob Dylana, Geopoetika, Beograd, 2017....
September 18, 2020
Bob Dylan fue nobel de literatura en 2016 "por haber creado una nueva expresión poética dentro de la gran tradición estadounidense de la canción".
Este libro, Tarántula escrito entre 1965 y 1966 pero publicado en 1973, es una novela; pero no es una novela típica. De hecho es muy díficil de comprender de qué va, no hay una linea narrativa a seguir, es un caos total, aún así la considero una gran obra; tal vez escuchando los primeros discos que grabó Dylan se pueda intentar comprender algo de la novela. Tiene sus toques poéticos y cierto humor negro que la hace interesante, y también muchas frases sin sentido. Su género es catalogado también como novela experimental, lo que la hace ser un tanto partícular en comparación con la novela común.
Le doy tres estrellas porque me ha gustado mucho, pero es un libro muy díficil, sin lugar a dudas. Cuesta comprender lo que Bob Dylan quiere transmitir en este libro.
Este libro, Tarántula escrito entre 1965 y 1966 pero publicado en 1973, es una novela; pero no es una novela típica. De hecho es muy díficil de comprender de qué va, no hay una linea narrativa a seguir, es un caos total, aún así la considero una gran obra; tal vez escuchando los primeros discos que grabó Dylan se pueda intentar comprender algo de la novela. Tiene sus toques poéticos y cierto humor negro que la hace interesante, y también muchas frases sin sentido. Su género es catalogado también como novela experimental, lo que la hace ser un tanto partícular en comparación con la novela común.
Le doy tres estrellas porque me ha gustado mucho, pero es un libro muy díficil, sin lugar a dudas. Cuesta comprender lo que Bob Dylan quiere transmitir en este libro.
August 23, 2021
I began reading this book with an open mind. At this point I feel I can't ever give any other book a single star on goodreads. This is literally the worst book I've read, and I've read loads of books, some of them pretty awful, unfortunately; but none so awful as this one.
The content is trash, pure and simple. There is nothing here worth reading, apart from maybe teaching little kids how to spell "night" and "except" instead of "nite" and "excpt". It's full of stupid orthography mistakes (unfortunately on purpose).
The intent OBVIOUSLY was to enter the far away realm of the "intelectuals" - the untouchables. Well, here's the thing, literature takes work, hard work. This is something an angry preteen with drug issues could have scribbled on his school desk with a glitter pen.
Random words thrown in to form random sentences - Tarantula.
The content is trash, pure and simple. There is nothing here worth reading, apart from maybe teaching little kids how to spell "night" and "except" instead of "nite" and "excpt". It's full of stupid orthography mistakes (unfortunately on purpose).
The intent OBVIOUSLY was to enter the far away realm of the "intelectuals" - the untouchables. Well, here's the thing, literature takes work, hard work. This is something an angry preteen with drug issues could have scribbled on his school desk with a glitter pen.
Random words thrown in to form random sentences - Tarantula.
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