Normally I prefer something to be illuminated in a one or
two word description rather than buckets of prose. I’m not fond of poetry. (I know, GASP!) However Pat Conroy’s writing brings new
heights to prose and poetry. This book
details his basketball career at the Citadel.
Conroy’s lush descriptions and vivid emotional portrayals
captivate you from word one. His soul
searching and searing self condemnation bring new bloody wounds each time you
turn a page. I’m not sure how I missed
this book as I thought I had read everything he had written. I have reveled in each of his books even
though so much of his writing is an in-depth, over the top depiction of numbing
and brutal emotional torture.
I suspect that each book provides catharsis to a man who
appears to have had a strife filled life. The bi-polar aspect of someone in love with
life and literature is shadowed by the persona willing to accept ego crushing
blows from parent and coach.
Conroy’s books smack of philosophy. His premise that his losing season taught
him strength and character and allowed him to have a measurable counter-point
for loss and gain seems to suggest that a life with out loss leaves one with no
benchmark to measure ones successes. Regardless
of his personal philosophic musings, his writing is simply beautiful. We all have self doubt, Conroy waves his at
the world and tells us regardless of self doubt we can succeed in our
endeavors. Having been a mediocre
basketball player myself and by my own standards having a wonderful life, I
found much in his book that resonated and chimed in my own batty belfry.
I highly recommend the book.
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