A man with a difficult past, Steven Lansky, without a wife, after a divorce that could not help any, tells of his schizophrenia. Humorous and pathetic, poignantly real, he understands how mental health insurance saved him, and childlike art became his passion. Steven invites criticism, using the Gita to identify with, as the warrior Arjuna takes on a personal significance, while consuming pressure, from a hallucinogenic nightmare in a House of the Rising Sun epic self-determinate haze. Bicycling, and sailing, rescues him. Tormented by relationships, brotherly love, even by bloody memories of an unfortunate incident, and then an accidental spell, in a far-off city, from New Orleans, to Boston, to Memphis and the North Country, whatever the setting, the lush, overwhelming calm, pervades a taut emotive narration. Lovers, women, give heartfelt adoration, but not enough to satisfy. This Bildungsroman moves through conscious memory, as it progresses visually, in a paradigm parallel to Irving Stone's biography of Vincent van Gogh, whose art Lansky's resembles. His nom de plume, or sobriquet, Jack Acid precedes him, like the famed immortal charioteer Krishna. Torrid sex, and various characterizations, inhibit his telling the story straight. The story, dictated to a muse elevates artifice to art.
A man with a difficult past, Steven Lansky, without a wife, after a divorce that could not help any, tells of his schizophrenia. Humorous and pathetic, poignantly real, he understands how mental health insurance saved him, and childlike art became his passion. Steven invites criticism, using the Gita to identify with, as the warrior Arjuna takes on a personal significance, while consuming pressure, from a hallucinogenic nightmare in a House of the Rising Sun epic self-determinate haze. Bicycling, and sailing, rescues him. Tormented by relationships, brotherly love, even by bloody memories of an unfortunate incident, and then an accidental spell, in a far-off city, from New Orleans, to Boston, to Memphis and the North Country, whatever the setting, the lush, overwhelming calm, pervades a taut emotive narration. Lovers, women, give heartfelt adoration, but not enough to satisfy. This Bildungsroman moves through conscious memory, as it progresses visually, in a paradigm parallel to Irving Stone's biography of Vincent van Gogh, whose art Lansky's resembles. His nom de plume, or sobriquet, Jack Acid precedes him, like the famed immortal charioteer Krishna. Torrid sex, and various characterizations, inhibit his telling the story straight. The story, dictated to a muse elevates artifice to art.