The Book of Drugs: A Memoir by Mike Doughty
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I'm pretty biased in Doughty's favor because I'm a fan of all of his music. On the other hand, maybe I'm also biased in the other direction because I take some of his scathing criticism of his fans a little personally. So take what I say however you will.
He writes well, and he writes honestly. He betrays even his darkest thoughts. I believe there is goodness in truth, and so there is goodness in this book.
But, but, but: Though he is harsh on himself by admitting every thought, it's tricky because he's not precisely sorry for the bigger moral transgressions. It's not the drugs that are a gateway to worse things, but falterings in morality. We have to hold ourselves to a high moral standard-- not out of snootiness or superiority-- but so we can be happy with ourselves and each other. Maybe he's trying to reach some of this at the end, but it sort of feels like a slapped on cheery ending. It doesn't really sound like him.
Still a big fan.
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