When Macy introduced this month’s Book Club selection, “Stone Arabia,” she mentioned its focus on the ideas of memory, time, and art. For me, the thread stringing these themes together was authenticity (a sentiment shared by Alex Shephard over at Full Stop, who has a great Q. & A. with Dana Spiotta). Nik is a musician who, depending on your view of art and the necessity of an audience, is either a failure or a genius, someone who creates for the sake of creation itself and who documents his life as it could have been—should have been?—in his Chronicles. Denise writes:
By 2004 Nick had thirty-odd volumes of the Chronicles (going back to 1978 officially; unofficially they were retrofitted back to 1973 with the rise of [Nik’s band] the Demonics). They were all written exclusively by him. They are the history of his music, his bands, his albums, his reviews, his interviews. He made his chronicles—scrapbooks, really—thick, clip-filled things. He wrote under so many different aliases, from his fan club president to his nemesis.…I am only tangentially part of the Chronicles. They are truly all about Nik. When I am mentioned, it is largely as part of events invented by Nik.
To present myself with a counterargument: in writing the Chronicles, is Nik really saying that they represent an unrealized and idealized version of his life? Does that mean they’re less authentic than reality, or more so? If I had stuck with ballet lessons when I was a kid, I might right now be the famous dancer I was meant to be (then again, I’m six feet tall, so probably not). But I could write about a life in which it happened. It could be fun. Read more at newyorker.com…