”Those who shun the whimsy of things will experience rigor mortis before death.”

”I have a black belt in haiku.”

It was during my early 20s vagabond period that I discovered Still Life with Woodpecker. I was holed up in a dilapidated, rural motel with an old hippie wino pseudo-Indian (white, balding, full bearded, but swore his mother was a “Cherokee princess.”) He was plenty sketchy, but possessed a cool tape collection of Alan Watts lectures, Janis Joplin concerts, and self recorded Grateful Dead shows — he seemed the perfect avatar of an era. He gifted me his worn copy of Still Life with Woodpecker which introduced me to what Tom Robbins dubbed the Last-Quarter-of-the-Twentieth-Century-Blues.

In this book, Tom Robbins parses the difference between criminals and outlaws, and inessential and essential insanities. He says profound stuff like,
”Morality depends on culture. Culture depends on climate. Climate depends on geography.”
And he dares to ask those really important questions:
”Does the moon have a purpose? Are redheads supernatural? Who knows how to make love stay?”

Still Life with Woodpecker is a sophomoric book, and I mean that in the best and most positive way. It is a wise-fool of a book. While the author plays with some serious themes throughout, play is the essential word. He refuses to take his themes, his book, or himself seriously, and clearly has no intention that his reader do so either. He give the game away in one of his authorial asides within the story:

”Humans have evolved to their relatively high state by retaining the immature characteristics of their ancestors. Humans are the most advanced of mammals because they seldom grow up. Behavioral traits such as curiosity about the world flexibility of response, and playfulness are common to practically all young mammals but are usually rapidly lost with the onset of maturity in all but humans. Humanity has advanced, when it has advanced, not because it has been sober, responsible, and cautious, but because it has been playful, rebellious, and immature.”

This book is wonderfully immature. It plays with concepts just as it plays with language — clever, funny, and without a hint of seriousness. The characters are delightful, but aren’t even close to real. It’s a twisted parable told as an intoxicated fairytale — it’s characters are meant to be denizens of fairytales.

This was my first re-read of Still Life with Woodpecker since 1988. I started it afraid that I would be disappointed, that it wouldn’t tickle me the same at sixty as it did at twenty-four. I needn’t have worried — apparently I have manage to preserve my immaturity intact.

This is a love story. A beautiful kaleidoscope of a love story that brings two unlikely characters together: a modern-day princess and an outlaw (or terrorist, depending on whom you ask), and rotates in colorful pieces of activism, pyramids, cigarette packaging, red-headedness, and of course, the catalyst for a love story--sex. These elements weave together to reveal the answer to the questions "how do you make love stay?"

Robbins' lyrical prose yearns to be read aloud. The beauty of his phrasing contrasts with his crass content (for example, the princess's nanny becomes addicted to cocaine), and gives the reader the sense that in the "last quarter of the twentieth century" worlds are colliding to have something monumental happen. A force (perhaps the moon?...the moon is discussed in great length as a form of natural birth control) brings the couple together and they fall quickly in to love and lust. These scenes are balanced with sensuality, romance, and with a skillful amount of erotic vulgarity that echo Robbins' common thread of beauty and baseness. This careful execution gives the reader a sense that the love scene never really ended, but rather ebbs and flows throughout the entire story, for an effect of unrequited love and intense longing.

At one point, our protagonists are separated and the princess locks herself in herself in her attic. Here Robbins employs one of my favorite devices: the obsessive analysis of a pack a Camel cigarettes. The symbolism of pyramids, camels, and package design are discussed. The seemly insignificant details reveal a rich inter-connectedness in the universe that the reader will want to believe in.

Upon completion, I wanted to read the book again. I suspect there will new insights the second time around, which to me, is the mark of a good book.

Tom is my new hero; I loved this story and is outrageous humor. I mean seriously.. when an exiled Queen's favorite response to just about any incident is "Oh, Oh, spaghetti-o's" you gotta love it! Tom obviously lives in a world far different from most of us and that's why he's so great. And no Seattle isn't that odd though it IS different, LOL. I'm hooked on his wacky mind and will read everything he's written. I've give this 5 stars and maybe some of his others will merit it.

“Still Life with Woodpecker” opens with a paragraph that is worth the cost of the book just in itself. If the book is to be found for 5 bucks or so. Let’s not get carried away here.
I am a huge Tom Robbins fan, despite the fact that when first introduced to him years ago I just was not all that enthralled. I changed somewhere along the line, and now I devour his works. I am continually amazed by his skills as a figurative writer, and the miasma of his mind. Robbins can write a paragraph (as he does in “Woodpecker”) describing tequila or the rain and it is absorbing, beautifully written, and catches the essence of what it is he is describing. I have not come across many writers in my reading life capable of that feat. But as he writes in this book “Outlaws, like poets, rearrange the nightmare.” Mr. Robbins probably qualifies as both. Another example of the excellence of this text is in chapter 38 where Robbins has insightful things to say about the true nature of socialism, capitalism, equality, good & evil, and red hair!
The weakness of this novel is the part called “Phase III”. It gets a little dull (compared to the parts that preceded it) and a little too out there for my tastes. It is philosophical a bit too much for its own sake and not in service to the story. It is a little “precious” and detracts from the text.
“Still Life with Woodpecker” is a unique read. You will not come across many novels like it. Like most Robbins it is incredibly inventive and creative, and Robbins inserts himself as the “author” in a persona throughout the text in a device that works well.
If you have never read Tom Robbins before I would not start with “Still Life with Woodpecker”, but if you have read and appreciated Robbins before you must continue the journey with this book.

It’s like listening to the ramblings of an uncle you’re not even sure you’re related to.

I remember over the years, I would come across Still Life with Woodpecker every now and then in bookshops and book bazaars. Each time, I would take it in my hands, read the backcover and put it back on the shelf. I don't know why, although it seemed interesting to me, something always stopped me from buying it. Of course I was aware of all the praise about it but that is never enough for me to want to read a book.

I think I get why it became such a big success all over the world. Its romantic and at the same time cynical aura can be appealing to people of both sexes. But let's face it people. It's not a masterpiece. While it's full of cheesy themes and everyday philosophy, it lacks the ingredients that make a novel timelessly brilliant. Now, I'm not saying it's trash. On the contrary, I found it good with moments of awesomeness. And that's it. In fact, I think Jitterbug Perfume is better on many levels. Truth is though, had I read it when I was younger, I probably would have liked it more.

The humor is nice, although after a while it feels a bit forced. Storywise, it lost me from time to time probably due to all the abstract blabbering. I think it's clear that finally it left me with a feeling of... meeehh.

My favorite book of all time. I used a quote from this book in my wedding vows. It is funny, silly, and romantic.

As my lack of stars indicate, this book is ok. However, the Best thing about the book is the following quote - one of the most influential in my life:

"How can one person be more real than any other? Well, some people do hide and others seek. Maybe those who are in hiding--escaping encounters, avoiding surprises, protecting their property, ignoring their fantasies, restricting their feelings, sitting out the Pan pipe hootchy-kootch of experience--maybe those people, people who won't talk to rednecks, or if they're rednecks won't talk to intellectuals, people who're afraid to get their shoes muddy or their noses wet, afraid to eat what they crave, afraid to drink Mexican water, afraid to bet a long shot to win, afraid to hitchhike, jaywalk, honky-tonk, cogitate, osculate, levitate, rock it, bop it, sock it, or bark at the moon, maybe such people are simply inauthentic, and maybe the jackleg humanist who says differently is due to have his tongue fried on the hot slabs of Liar's Hell. Some folks hide, and some folks seek, and seeking, when it's mindless, neurotic, desperate, or pusillanimous can be a form of hiding. But there are folks who want to know and aren't afraid to look and won't turn tail should they find it--and if they never do, they'll have a good time anyway because nothing, neither the terrible truth not the absence of it, is going to cheat them out of one honest breath of earth's sweet gas."

Edit, Jan 2013: Funny story, I'm one of those people who totally loves Tom Robbins now, in part for a bunch of the reasons that I decided I didn't like him originally. What can I say, tastes change, and I've come to respect him a ton--in part, for his incredible similes/metaphors, which are worth anyone who ever wants to write picking up one of his books for.

Original review:
I'm not one of those people who hates or loves Tom Robbins, which I guess puts me in the minority.

I'm a redhead, thus why I chose this Robbins novel to start with. There, I admitted it.

The "plot," to put it broadly, is about a well-intentioned albeit naive redheaded "princess" who meets a redheaded self-obsessed "outlaw."

Reading Robbins reads a lot like talking to someone with ADD or on some kind of mind-altering substance. It's entertaining at times - probably moreso if you're on the same substance - and at other times, you really just wish they'd shut the fuck up.

Robbins' writing style is unique, that's for damn sure. After reading this, I'm pretty sure I've got him down pat. Give me a page from any other Robbins book, I bet you I could nail it. Here's the thing. Having a unique voice is important and all that, but it doesn't automatically make what they're writing worthwhile. In tandem with that voice, that personality, you have to know how to use it. You have to have some tact. Kurt Vonnegut, for example, kind of lives in his own world, and he uses that to his advantage, but he also knows how to use it to draw in those who are from other planets. Lester Bangs was crazy as fuck, but had a point hidden among his craziness. Robbins is definitely his own brand, but he doesn't give a flying fuck about making it palatable or accessible - which, on some level, I totally respect, but on another, I don't.

The level on which I don't respect his disregard for the reader is that good art, good creativity feels as though it has a purpose, as if it makes a point, as if it reflects something about existence. This doesn't mean it has to be profound or ground-breaking, just that it captures something real, whether that reality is a feeling, a place, a time, a person, a... whatever. I think there's some kind of point hidden in here, but it's loose. It's reaching. It feels like he was just throwing a bunch of shit at a wall. You could argue Still Live with Woodpecker is about love, and that'd be sort of accurate, but the annoying thing is that the very subject he addresses is the one thing he's conventional about (I don't want to spoil it, but let's just say I found the ending/basic plot a little drab), whereas he chooses to toss convention in every other regard. He puts his personal stamp on everything except the one thing that could really use it. He reminds me of a guy who tries really hard to be funny, really hard to be profound, and it's not that he isn't funny or profound, just that because he's trying so damn hard, all of the failed efforts distract from the times he nails it.

All that said, Still Life with Woodpecker has its attractions. I can see the appeal. Because Robbins' writing is so intricately connected to his personality, it possess a certain level of charm, it's fun to get lost in somebody else's world for awhile, even if you wouldn't really want to live there, and Robbins, at the very least, can certainly draw you in. He does make some interesting points/arguments here, but unfortunately he's more of a smash and grab kind of guy and doesn't really develop any of them. I can't help but feel like this would have been a better book if he had taken what's here to an editor, who would have, undoubtedly, pointed out his strongest points and had them focus on those. But Robbins' writing style is crazy - he basically writes a sentences as many times as he needs to until he thinks it's perfect, then moves on to the next, with no consideration as to what came before it or to what comes after it. He also apparently never goes back to edit. When it's done, it's done. I knew this before I read this book, and it totally shows. If he had any kind of editing, if he had any kind of pre-thought as to where he was going, he'd probably be a great writer. But maybe that's just the editor in me.

This is, admittedly, the first book of his I've read. But I get a strange feeling that he's one of those, you've read one you've read 'em all kinds of authors. I'll probably pick up one of his better known works, just to see if I get more of what the fuss is about, but it'll be awhile.

I expected crazy-weird-awesome:



So far it's:



To sum up, I looked forward to reading this and walked away very disappointed.




Not sure if I'll ever bother writing a proper review or quoting any of the god-awful similes, stupidly-inane tangents, or sententiously-prosaic truths.

A strange love affair of liberal and anarchistic lead protagonists, reflecting everything out of the Punch and Judy show called politics and it´s strange and illogical ideological foundations.

The woodpecker is such a badass antihero, and his pairing with the redhead hippie girl leads to loads of great plot options Robbins uses to make fun of everything and adds an extra load of filth, sex, and wordplays to the mix to make it even grittier. His language, comparable with some rare ingenious novelists such as Simmons, Irving, etc., makes it difficult to choose if one wants to enjoy the flow of letters or the underlying themes Robbins throws at the reader all the time, because altogether characterization, introspections, and weird world views of the protagonist and the universe around them are astonishing.

I know that I know nothing and so many of the political and some economic innuendos won´t find their target in my mind, because I´ve stopped dealing with the lunacy and stupidity of both fringe sciences a while ago, but readers who are big in history will maybe find many real life inspirations. Although that´s just an assumption, it´s also possible that most of it is purely fictional, but I deem Robbins too clever to not use the option of owning this dysfunctional system. Not to forget the symbolism, individualism, how society deals with progressive tendencies, and how stupid people become by following a mixture of primate and wolf pack instincts.

That´s one of these novels that could get reduced in quality by a bad translation, because some of the puns might get lost, but the German edition is splendid and I´ve read some of the best picks of the English, even better edition some time ago, where Robbin's ingenuity in playing with words is shown in his perfectionistic work attitude. The man might be a stoner, but hell, if some of the greatest writing of all times come out of widening the horizon and the writer doesn´t go completely bonkers, more of the creative heads should try it. It´s not as if I would also suggest it if they would all get seriously mentally ill after a few works, just to be able to enjoy their novels, because people told me that would be antisocial, egoistic, and sociopathic.

Tropes show how literature is conceptualized and created and which mixture of elements makes works and genres unique:
https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.ph...

Πρώτη μου επαφή με βιβλίο του Τομ Ρόμπινς, τα συμπεράσματα μου είναι απλά και είναι τα εξής, λάτρεψα την αφήγηση όμως αδιαφόρησα παντελώς για την ιστορία που μου αφηγούνταν.

«Ο Άλμπερ Καμυ έγραψε πως το μόνο σοβαρό ερώτημα είναι αν πρέπει ν’ αυτοκτονήσεις ή όχι.
Ο Τομ Ρόμπινς έγραψε πως το μόνο σοβαρό ερώτημα είναι αν ο χρόνος έχει αρχή και τέλος.
Σίγουρα όταν το έγραψε ο Καμύ θα’ χε στραβοκοιμηθεί κι ο Ρόμπινς θα’ ξεχάσει να βάλει ξυπνητήρι.
Ένα είναι το σοβαρό ερώτημα. Κι αυτό είναι:
Ποιος ξέρει να κάνει την αγάπη παντοτινή; Απάντησε μου σ’ αυτό και θα σου πω αν πρέπει ν’ αυτοκτονήσεις ή όχι.
Απάντησε μου σ’ αυτό και θα σε καθησυχάσω για την αρχή και το τέλος του χρόνου.
Απάντησε μου σ’ αυτό και θα σου αποκαλύψω αν έχει λόγο να υπάρχει το φεγγάρι.»
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