I stopped reading the book and sadly did not finish. It did not hold my interest. I thought it would be a really great read but just couldn't engage.

Thanks you Netgalley form this e-book copy!

reading it was like if the author was describing how to compose a song, the expression from that art

This novel is not a page turner, but rather should be savored a page at a time. It tells of the inner life of a famous singer-songwriter, clearly fashioned after Bob Dylan. Reading like a non-linear memoir, the narrative describes the journey of Abe Runyan from his modest childhood as the only Jew in a small midwestern town where he feels squelched, isolated, and misunderstood. Music is his escape, both figuratively and literally, and of course his arrival begins in Greenwich Village when his talent begins to be noticed. Looking back, Abe reflects on his relationship with his parents and hometown, the origins of folk music, what it's like to be an outsider, the nature of fame, and the importance of music and creativity. What makes this book so special is its lyrical flow. Each short section is introduced with a four line poem, but in fact much of the prose reads like poetry, with lovely turns of phrase. As Abe Runyan says, "The story was a way for the words to hitch a ride."

Unfortunately this didn't work for me and I won't be continuing, but there's plenty to like here and some great potential that I'm sure other readers will appreciate a lot.

I received an advance copy of Baron Wormser's Songs from a Voice from NetGalley in exchange for a fair review. To be fair, I have to admit that it's hard for me to be fair. So please keep in mind that my opinions on this particular subject may be unique to me. That's because this book is a fictionalized memoir of a character based on Bob Dylan.

I have tried for 55 years to understand Bob Dylan's popularity. I've had a lot of help -- I have one friend who co-wrote a screenplay fictionalizing Dylan's biography, another who as a journalist wrote a book about traveling with Dylan, another who was part of Dylan's touring band for many years, and others who are just huge fans.

I don't dislike Dylan. He's written a lot of good songs and some great ones. His public persona has been controversial, but as a musician I judge artists on their music. I have more of a problem with his reputation for authenticity, which he earned despite making stuff up about himself at the start and then crafting a chameleon-line career -- "the jester in a coat he borrowed from James Dean," as we sing in American Pie, also borrowing arrangements without permission (read: stealing), like Dave Van Ronk's House of the Rising Sun.

Still, I get why he's liked -- he sang in "a voice that came from you and me" is the next line of American Pie. But I don't get why he's revered, especially when he so disingenuously misled his fans. Wormser captures part of that sentiment perfectly, the part about lying about his past: "What mattered weren't a life's particulars. What mattered was the feeling a person had for his or her life."

I read almost the exact same words from a famous memoirist defending herself against evidence that key parts of her memoir were invented out of whole cloth. I disagree with this transparent rationalization in both cases -- facts matter, call fiction by its proper name, and certainly, if you know you've invented that part of yourself, don't trade on it as authentic.

None of this is Wormser's fault. He is not writing an apologia -- I don't see where he ever thought he needed to, except in a couple of isolated cases like the creation of Dylan's background and his treatment of people in the Village folk scene ("Did [I] take advantage of other people? Yes. Some of the small change of hurt feelings wasn't so small, but I had my eye on a near yet faraway prize.").

No, Wormser is attempting to get into the head of an inscrutable subject, and he does a magnificent job. It's just that, for a searcher like me, all he really finds in there is inscrutability. And so that leaves me wanting. I was hoping to find a semblance of truth in pseudo-Dylan's internal monologue that never made it outside the confines of his skull, as we all have those truths hidden in our own skulls.

But it's an exquisitely written book, prose poetry, full of great if occasionally random ideas. I almost wish there was no mention of Dylan, but it probably wouldn't have attracted my attention without the Dylan connection. I wish there was more about Dylan's time in New York, which is the best part of the book, but only comes at the end. Most of the book is set in Minnesota during his youth, and I'm sorry, but there is little there that illuminates what came later. At least for me.

But if you're a fan, especially one intent on being a completist, this book will be a pleasure.