An intoxicating blend of poetry, film noir and war story. Achingly beautiful sentences; weary survivor of WWII; bleak city renovations; McCarthy; Hollywood; homelessness.

I have to say that this is one of the better books shortlisted for the Man Book Prize in 2018. I really enjoyed the format being utilized, it really set the feeling of the story for me. This book really talks about a very difficult topic that many have to deal with PTSD and having known someone who suffered with it first hand, I feel like the author did a great job portraying how it can affect some people. PTSD affects many, but can affect each person differently.

This book really had a feel to it that I think sticks to a reader, I feel like I will bee thinking about it for sometime. It is encompassing and consuming in a way. I also like how the author portrays the internal feelings struggles of the main character to the external society/city. It was veery interesting to read. There are many dark topics in this novel/poem, so if PTSD, drug use, and other dark themes are something that can bother you, I would stay away. If that is not the case it is a powerful read for sure.

I found this compelling and vivid, but I am still unsure about it - the protagonist, Walker, dwindles as the book progresses, and I know it wouldn’t, couldn’t work as prose. I found the ending disappointing. It’s clear that there are only two paths - a somewhat phoney redemption or an equally unpersuasive tragic lapse. But the ending was not satisfying, although overall this is an extraordinary piece of poetic construction. Robertson opts for the dark ending, and I can see how and why, but the bleakness felt unreal and detached from the film noir structure and metaphors underpinning the poem.

Still, a fascinating work and well worth exploring and re-reading.

novel as poem. Noir.

This book is like 90% atmosphere--all of it reminiscent of that cover. There seemed to be a narrative push near the end there where our protagonist really felt the need to confess the dying homeless man (did I read that right?). The book switched from a poetic narrative describing 1) Walker's transformation from Vet to Journalist; 2) the paths his journalism leads him down; 3) hints of Hollywood Noir moviemaking; 4) the steady destruction of Old Los Angeles to make way for parking spots.
I think the correlation between "man at war" and the helplessness of the city (as a character) to remain unique or unchanged was interesting--woulda liked it more central to the expression of the book; instead we get hints of this idea "What had been a blaze of neon, streetlights, lit windows, becomes a smoldering ruin of blue." If that's not a metaphor for the mind of a man at war, I don't know what is.

This idea is reinforced, not by the words of the narrative, but of the juxtaposition of the separate voices in the book. One (in bold) appears to be the diary entries of Walker that, as the book progresses, become increasingly...erratic; another (in italics) is the story of Walker at war. These are interspersed with descriptions of the City's destruction and rebirth, and with Walkers journalism, and, later, his interactions and search for Billy Idaho.

Solid thoughtful book that has given me a lot to think about, and demands a re-read.

This book is a Canadian soldier suffering terribly from the effects of WW2 tries to build a life for himself in LA. A wonderful experiment and a beautiful, harrowing account of PTSD. Author wrote the book in poetic prose manner with story and poetry mixed with serious baritone and gripping experience of reader.

He finds work as a reporter but is haunted constantly by memories of what he has seen and done during the war. And the reminders are everywhere - explosions as buildings are torn down and rebuilt; new year's celebration fireworks; scores of homeless, drunk vets on the streets who taken a bad turn in life and now , not able to handle themselves and country is not doing enough and mental health issue concepts was not there when they came back from war, so frustration get to them preety easily .

This is a brutal tale with bleak of hope that thing may get better in future , written mostly as a longform poem, could have been gimmicky. But it works wonderfully for readers. Telling a novel-length story in this way opens new doors for the new genre in literature and writers who want to say there stories and express themselves new way. Surely, characterisation is harder in this format, but a new world of imagery is suddenly possible. Some sections describing the city are as beautiful as any I've read. And the flashbacks to WW2 battlefields are shocking, raw and hugely affecting

Thoughts in Russian in my WordPress.