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5.0 out of 5 stars
a chance find which stunned me, Jul 26 2000
This is Canadian poet and author George Bowering's memoir of his friend and compatriot, the painter Greg Curnoe, who died in a road accident in 1992. The two were friends for almost 30 years.Until 24 hours ago, I had heard of neither. I picked this book up for a few pennies at the literary equivalent of the last chance saloon - a vast line of shelves outside a second hand bookshop in Hay-on-Wye on the England-Wales border. Having read a quarter of it before even paying, I went back to my car, mesmerised, and finished the book before driving home. I now want to read as much as I can by this author and to see the works of his subject. Bowering chooses not to give us the written equivalent of a photograph, but rather that of a briefly and deftly-made sketch - a sketch which is all the more effective because of precisely that brevity and deftness. Each page contains a single memory. It might be a memory of an art installation, a poetry reading, a strange dream, a meal, a car journey, a television appearance, the two men and their families going on a day trip, or whatever. In spite of its brevity, my first thought on reading The Moustache was to make a comparison with Boswell's Johnson. That is not to say Bowering is guilty of Boswell's self-aggrandizement, but rather that he has the Georgian biographer's ability to draw with words and, above all, the same empathy with and love for his subject. From what I can tell by browsing Amazon, Bowering is as deservedly well-known in his native land and the United States as he is undeservedly unknown here, even if this book is currently out of print on your side of the Atlantic. The Moustache is one of those pieces a person discovers and then feels the need to evangelize about. Which I suppose I just have.
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