dog
"Nobody would believe what an effort it is to do what little I am able,—to dress and entertain, and order things."
"As I writhed under it, I would at times feel that learning to read had been a curse rather than a blessing. It had given me a view of my wretched condition, without the remedy. It opened my eyes to the horrible pit, but to no ladder upon which to get out. In moments of agony, I envied my fellow-slaves for their stupidity. I have often wished myself a beast. I preferred the condition of the meanest reptile to my own. Any thing, no matter what, to get rid of thinking! It was this everlasting thinking of my condition that tormented me."
A bizarre, meandering collection of Dylanisms and vignettes. Sparse moments of cohesion and genius bind together an otherwise surreal and meaningless patchwork. Sometimes Tarantula is funny or insightful, sometimes it paints vivid portraits, but most of the book is stream-of-consciousness gobbledygook from a heavily drugged Dylan. Worth a read for fans of Dylan (me) and weirdo literature (also me!) Totally worthless for just about anyone else.
"that's right-a lot of people would feel guilty & close their eyes to such a happening-there are people that interrupt & interfere in other people's lives-only God can be everywhere at the same Time & Space-you are human-sad & silly as it may seem"
"I am trying to get at something
and I want to talk very plainly to you
so that we are both comforted by the honesty."
Hardly anyone listened to Salamano either, when he recalled how I had been good to his dog and when he answered a question about my mother and me by saying that I had run out of things to say to Maman and that was why I'd put her in a home. "You must understand," Salamano kept saying, "you must understand." But no one seemed to understand. He was ushered out.
"The only hope now, I felt, was the possibility that we’d gone to such excess, with our gig, that nobody in a position to bring the hammer down on us could possibly believe it."