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Forced Entries- The Downtown Diaries: 1971-1973
***This 1995 edition has the same ISBN as the 1987 edition: 0140085025, 9780140085020
184 pages, Paperback
First published June 1, 1987
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1062 people want to read
About the author
Jim Carroll
69 books490 followersJames Dennis "Jim" Carroll was an author, poet, autobiographer, and punk musician. Carroll was best known for his 1978 autobiographical work The Basketball Diaries, which was made into the 1995 film of the same name with Leonardo DiCaprio as Carroll.
Carroll became sober in the 1970s. After moving to California, he met Rosemary Klemfuss; the couple married in 1978. The marriage ended in divorce, but the two remained friends.
Carroll died of a heart attack at his Manhattan home on September 11, 2009, at the age of 60. At the time of his death, he was in ill health due to pneumonia and hepatitis C. He was reportedly working at his desk when he died. His funeral mass was held at Our Lady of Pompeii Catholic Church on Carmine Street in Greenwich Village.
Year of birth corrected & extra info added from Wikipedia
Carroll became sober in the 1970s. After moving to California, he met Rosemary Klemfuss; the couple married in 1978. The marriage ended in divorce, but the two remained friends.
Carroll died of a heart attack at his Manhattan home on September 11, 2009, at the age of 60. At the time of his death, he was in ill health due to pneumonia and hepatitis C. He was reportedly working at his desk when he died. His funeral mass was held at Our Lady of Pompeii Catholic Church on Carmine Street in Greenwich Village.
Year of birth corrected & extra info added from Wikipedia
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 88 reviews
July 9, 2012
This is the first Jim Carroll book I've ever read. Sure, I watched "The Basketball Diaries" and it was interesting years ago, but nothing to crow about. I had two other books in my hands from the local library and I saw this one on the "new / featured titles" section so I added it to the stack.
The book is just journal entries, embellished a bit to be sure, but Jim Carroll has a way with metaphors that I really dug. Sure I've read a little about 1970's lower east side Manhattan, and this book reinforces what everyone else I've read says about the time and place, but that's not as interesting as the images that Mr. Carroll creates throughout each entry about nothing in particular. Dreams. Women's asses. Bob Dylan's folksiness. Reading this book was like hanging out with Ernest Hemingway on a lunch counter, and then saying goodbye. Except he's also a poet and it shows in his prose. The entries are short, nothing is overly dwelled upon and overall you get a concise account of a guy's transition from excess to sobriety over a few years, with a few flourishes. Refreshing.
The book is just journal entries, embellished a bit to be sure, but Jim Carroll has a way with metaphors that I really dug. Sure I've read a little about 1970's lower east side Manhattan, and this book reinforces what everyone else I've read says about the time and place, but that's not as interesting as the images that Mr. Carroll creates throughout each entry about nothing in particular. Dreams. Women's asses. Bob Dylan's folksiness. Reading this book was like hanging out with Ernest Hemingway on a lunch counter, and then saying goodbye. Except he's also a poet and it shows in his prose. The entries are short, nothing is overly dwelled upon and overall you get a concise account of a guy's transition from excess to sobriety over a few years, with a few flourishes. Refreshing.
July 24, 2015
I've just re-read this book after first reading in 1987, now that I have a commute that leaves me some time to catch up on my reading. My only regret in life is that I was born 10 years to late to really experience what was going in the NewYork art scene circa late 1960's early 1970's, as I came into it as a semi-participant, late 70's and early 80's. My re-read gives me a feeling of nostalgia and longing for a time that was the last great inclusive movement for art, music, and culture in New York City.
The charm of Jim Caroll's writing is that he can spin a humorous and truthful tale with all the elements of a fictional short story. And he admits to embellishing in the Author's Note at the beginning of the book. This all makes for some highly entertaining writing which is part autobiography, part fiction, but the truth is never lost amongst the showmanship.
This is his personal journal, but it is edited for an audience, so it reads as if he is chatting, telling stories to the reader on his living room sofa. Having attended Caroll's readings, and speaking to him on a few occasions, I tend to read his work in his voice, with all the unique cadences and New York drawl that goes with it. Although he is telling his stories in the first person, he "reads" them to you with some hindsight, and at times it seems he is almost as shocked as we are to hear about some of his more debaucherous moments. This slight distance from the tales allows for the reader to feel like a confidant rather than an observer of a strangers story.
Besides giving us some amusing tales to entertain us, Forced Entries let's us experience Caroll's transition, starting in 1971, (a few years after Basketball Diaries ending in 1966), from heroin user, hustler, and scenester to a man who realizes he must shed these distractions if he is to seriously focus on his writing. All of this is depicted as a very personal journey, so personal that there does not seem to be a lot of dialog with the other players in his world as to steer him in one direction or another. It is the internal journey of observation, introspection, and action that brings about this transcendence.
One other amusing aspect to this book is guessing at some of the real names behind some of the pseudonyms he gives to those he wishes not to cause embarrassment. Two characters at the beginning of the entries, "Jenny Ann" and "Roger", his neighbors at the Chelsea Hotel, are clearly Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe, if you know your history.
I intend to read more of Caroll's, including Book of Nods and his last book titled The Petting Zoo. I need to read these books for my own personal nostalgia and the memories they bring back of a New York City that held the promise of art around every corner.
The charm of Jim Caroll's writing is that he can spin a humorous and truthful tale with all the elements of a fictional short story. And he admits to embellishing in the Author's Note at the beginning of the book. This all makes for some highly entertaining writing which is part autobiography, part fiction, but the truth is never lost amongst the showmanship.
This is his personal journal, but it is edited for an audience, so it reads as if he is chatting, telling stories to the reader on his living room sofa. Having attended Caroll's readings, and speaking to him on a few occasions, I tend to read his work in his voice, with all the unique cadences and New York drawl that goes with it. Although he is telling his stories in the first person, he "reads" them to you with some hindsight, and at times it seems he is almost as shocked as we are to hear about some of his more debaucherous moments. This slight distance from the tales allows for the reader to feel like a confidant rather than an observer of a strangers story.
Besides giving us some amusing tales to entertain us, Forced Entries let's us experience Caroll's transition, starting in 1971, (a few years after Basketball Diaries ending in 1966), from heroin user, hustler, and scenester to a man who realizes he must shed these distractions if he is to seriously focus on his writing. All of this is depicted as a very personal journey, so personal that there does not seem to be a lot of dialog with the other players in his world as to steer him in one direction or another. It is the internal journey of observation, introspection, and action that brings about this transcendence.
One other amusing aspect to this book is guessing at some of the real names behind some of the pseudonyms he gives to those he wishes not to cause embarrassment. Two characters at the beginning of the entries, "Jenny Ann" and "Roger", his neighbors at the Chelsea Hotel, are clearly Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe, if you know your history.
I intend to read more of Caroll's, including Book of Nods and his last book titled The Petting Zoo. I need to read these books for my own personal nostalgia and the memories they bring back of a New York City that held the promise of art around every corner.
December 15, 2009
Jim, Jim, Jim. What can I say? Well, I probably wouldn't be saying that I didn't really like your book if you were still alive, because I have way too much respect for you. But then because you died I was thinking about you when I was looking around the used book store and I came across Forced Entries and wondered how in hell I'd never read it. The Basketball Diaries was like an anthem when I was growing up. When I saw you play with your band at the Mabuhay Gardens in SF you didn't disappoint. You were like a fuckin hero, well, as close to whatever heroes were in those days. The times we talked you were gracious, subdued, and distant - and that was cool. I was so loaded it all seemed right, like if it wasn't strange and awkward something was wrong. But Forced Entries man? Ah, no. You were too cool for the "look at me, I am so cool" sense this book breeds. It doesn't matter who you hung out with. I don't care what names you drop. You don't gotta do that to kick it dude.
March 9, 2015
I can't say I enjoyed this as much as I thought I would due to the fact that the names were changed and composite characters substituted to protect the guilty. In spite of this, I thought I recognized some of the people like Patti Smith and Brigid Polk. Also, for someone who spent every night at Max's Kansas City, we get very little detail about the infamous watering hole.
Still, there were some funny stories which make this worth reading. It just won't add much for folks who have read Please Kill Me.
Still, there were some funny stories which make this worth reading. It just won't add much for folks who have read Please Kill Me.
December 4, 2008
At the beginning of this one, Jim Carroll's working at Warhol's Factory and hanging out at the St. Mark's poetry project. His writing's much better here than in the more famous Basketball Diaries. He's housesitting for none other than Billy Burroughs, Jr. (given a fake name) near the beginning and houseguest Allen Ginsberg has a misadventure offstage with Carroll's girlfriend's vibrator, reprising his role as the loyal old warped uncle type--as he was to Burroughs, Jr and Jan Kerouac before Carroll. Patti Smith encouraged Jim to start a band in the early NYC punk days--The Jim Carroll Band has its moments--check out "People Who Died".
February 12, 2009
The abcess part of this book was revoting and hilarious. You all have been warned....
December 26, 2022
JC is so sweet and captivating when listening to the live recordings of his readings of his poems and prose, such as The Loss of American Innocence. He doesn’t come across quite as viscerally when I read it from the page; maybe it’s because I can’t do his beautiful (and now rare) native NYC accent with its quiver in my mind when digesting the words. I read Basketball Diaries when I was 15, and now Forced Entries at 51. I can’t say it was great but I wasn’t expecting much from a guy who was just trying to stay alive after NYC in the 70s exploded quite literally in his face. I have a friend who still lives in the Chelsea Hotel since those times (who I used to visit on a weekly basis for nefarious sundries) and of course I am enamored with that period in street art and culture, but this isn’t great stuff; more a diary of suffering the loss of inspiration. Oddly, sometimes I got a Michel Houellebecq vibe from his prose that I obviously wouldn’t have picked up years ago. Some parts are entertaining nonetheless but it is an inconsistent affair describing an inconsistent time of his life. The name dropping is a bit aggravating, but underscores the near misses of his own success.
July 13, 2025
Less enticing than its predecessor The Basketball Diaries, but some memorable mental wanderings of a young artist trying to find his voice in NYC while enthralled in the cycles of addition.
April 13, 2023
I’m sucker for “NY in the 70’s” memoirs and Carroll’s 1971-73 diaries (obviously polished up), hit the spot. Sure, there’s a lot of that “Oh, look how cool I am, I live in the Chelsea, get blow jobs from Jackie Curtis at Max’s, and hang out with William Burroughs” vibe, but, like I said, I’m totally entertained by this shit! At some point (after an arm abscess episode which is horrifically funny), he decides he has “no more cool” left in him and goes to detox in CA. This part of the book is the least interesting (thankfully, it’s short!) and then it’s back to NY for more tales of the city. I would have loved this to have continued on into the 80’s when Carrroll got famous!
January 12, 2017
I enjoyed reading Jim Carroll's movement from all out junkie in NYC to mostly clean weedhead in California then traveling back to NYC to re-experience it like a challenge he was taking on for himself in his new sparkly dried out persona. - may he rest in peace - You almost think the kid didn't stand much of a chance, hobnobbing with celebrity at Max's and getting dissed by Warhol over the phone, because Warhol only wanted to talk to him when he was wired on speed (and recorded these phone calls apparently). Great street level perspective of NYC in the early seventies. Jim Carroll is an brutally honest sorta writer, so be prepared to go under carpets with him and hangout with fragments of cheese doodles and mites. Or inside a festering abscess. He certainly won't glorify substance abuse or addiction, so you don't need to worry about your children. Or do you? I found the first half of the book a little harder to get through, a lot of socializing with Ginsberg and name dropping (though anyone could be envious to hang out with William Burroughs and Bob Dylan for a night). Sometimes I felt he was writing to impress his celebrity buds. But mostly I admire Jim Carroll, I consider him a strong writer and the survivor we know by his Basketball Diaries. This book was supposed to be a sorta sequel to that one. He didn't stand a chance as a kid himself going deep on the streets, yet he always respected the muse and was a real creative mind, and a local new yorker in his heart. The second half of the book I found a bit clearer, more honest, and particularly his return from Bolinas to NYC. The last quarter of the book was a straight read, I hunkered down in my apartment and really got into it. It ends well, I mean, more intimate and heartfelt. A good read.
April 11, 2020
I read this to fill in the gaps between the Jim Carroll I knew from The Basketball Diaries and the one I knew from Jim Carroll Band. It was not a pleasure to read. He is attempting a more literary voice while still stuck in the same narcissistic subject matter as the previous memoir. While continuing to abuse drugs and people, he tries to spin humorous anecdotes, but there's nothing underneath. He's living in a moral vacuum with little insight into his own motives and feelings. In a lucid moment, he writes, "Not only did I not give a shit, but I had no inkling that I was supposed to." At the end of the two-year period covered here, he concludes, "At least I've raised my quality of living above cockroach level."
At the same time he was writing these "forced entries" (in his diary), he also wrote the poems that became his book Living at the Movies. I still love his album Catholic Boy (1980).
At the same time he was writing these "forced entries" (in his diary), he also wrote the poems that became his book Living at the Movies. I still love his album Catholic Boy (1980).
July 10, 2012
What do I think? Well, with Jim it's forever how do I feel after I finish a book, or a poem, or listening to a tune of his? His visceral connection to the Raw, the bleeding without dying by the age of 35 forced him to continue to write. To breathe for Carroll is to write and reflect. (and shoot dope more off than on so sad). But I read him anyway. His wisecracks and singular perspective peddled him all over NYC and introduced him to the biggest names of the day. Jim liked the situation. I liked the product of his situation during this two years. Don't forget, he won awards for his poems at 15 years of age.
"If you haven't died by an age thought predetermined through the timing of your abuses and excesses, then what else is their to do but begin another diary." Jim Carroll
"If you haven't died by an age thought predetermined through the timing of your abuses and excesses, then what else is their to do but begin another diary." Jim Carroll
January 14, 2015
Best known for "The Basketball Diaries" and the song "People Who Died", Jim Carroll was a young man on the NY art scene in the bohemian heyday of the late 1960s and early 1970s. This book/journal covers 1970-1973 and deals primarily with his heroin and methamphetamine addictions. There are plenty of anecdotes that students of the Warhol scene will find amusing and/or illuminating. There are also plenty of gross-out scenes that I could have done without. All in all, it is a nice collection of stories and vignettes that are more like supplementary material than the feature event. I suggest reading "The Basketball Diaries" first and then, if you want more, pick up this book as well.
June 4, 2008
Jim Carroll is brilliant, a true artist of literary proportions. Sounds like B.S., but its true. Reading about his crazy life, one adventure to the next, and realizing that he actually lived through it all, not just survived, is really inspiring. He has an air of honesty mixed with a pose of smug streecat ambition. But he is also raw, and that part of him always wins out in the end. So, I personally recommend anything by him, if you want your skull ripped off and replaced with illuminating optimism.
April 4, 2008
I've read this book over and over, though I've only read the Basketball Diaries once. This diary takes place in the early 70's, when Jim Carroll is the new hotshot poet on the block (imagine a world where it's possible to even be a hotshot poet!), hanging out at the Factory with Andy Warhol, having Allen Ginsberg sleep on his couch, and getting tongue tied around Bob Dylan. And of course there are drugs. Lots and lots of Warholian superstar drugs. The writing style is unpretentious and funny, which is what inspires multiple readings.
May 25, 2008
Warning! This book is not for anyone with a weak stomach. You may feel the need to scrub yourself with a Brillo pad after reading this book, but I say it's worth it if you really want to get into the gritty folds of a New York poet and all of the elbows he rubs in this journey. See the likes of Andy Warhol, Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs, and even Salvador Dali and Bob Dylan at their worst in this tale of a writer who struggles with his addictions, his faith, and his muse, and some other interesting ailments.
November 14, 2007
The part about meeting Bob Dylan and Auden is great. Ginsberg with a vibrator is gold.
A very enjoyable, personal, and unpretentious look at the art and drug worlds in the '70s. Evokes New York in a way many other books cannot. The humor is warm, and despite all the drugs and craziness, it is really a celebration of life.
A very enjoyable, personal, and unpretentious look at the art and drug worlds in the '70s. Evokes New York in a way many other books cannot. The humor is warm, and despite all the drugs and craziness, it is really a celebration of life.
November 11, 2008
More clever and evolved than basketball diaries... seems like Carroll was in the right place at the right time. From a chance run in on the street with Dali to working for Warhol he's really sucking the marrow out the bone... the chapter on Ginsberg entitled "the poet and the vibrator" is priceless...
May 12, 2011
A gritty, humorous, sometimes frightfully disturbing portrait of day-to-day life from multi-media artist, Jim Carroll. Only the talented Jim Carroll could portray drug addiction, seedy New York City life in the seventies, and raw,conflicted emotions to read as beautiful poetry. Outstanding "creative fiction" from one of the most prolific writers of the 20th century.
July 5, 2007
I read this while living in NYC, it makes you realize how much the city has changed, but also how much it hasn't changed. I dogeared some of the sights that he frequented and did my own little Jim Caroll tour of NYC - it was nice.
March 9, 2013
A real look at the inside of a world where characters such as Ginsberg and Warhol's Factory commingle. I was disappointed when I found out there were only two volumes of Caroll's diaries because they really zip along and there is not a single bit of unnecessary text in this book.
March 7, 2021
Beautiful and brutal use of language
June 10, 2017
"...I don't want to become a cynical prick."- Jim Carroll, 1973
"TOO LATE, MOTHERFUCKER!!!"- Dimestore Liam, 2017
At his best, Carroll was an incredibly talented writer, but this book is at best uneven, and at worst so hopelessly bad and worthless that I greatly resented the fact that I paid $5.00 for it. I thought the most telling scene in the book was fairly early in the narrative when he was watching the NBA All-Star game, and said "I fucked up."; that is most likely the most honest sentence he ever wrote, for once completely without artifice or sardonic, faux-glamourous Devil-may-care pretense. I'm not half the writer Jim Carroll was (and I've always been hopeless as an athlete, in addition to my small size), but given the fact that I share his working-class Irish background and many of his less savory proclivities, I've always felt a certain connection with his outlook on life. When I was a young musician, scuffling in the gutter after the proverbial pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (the leprechaun's hoard, perhaps...), Carroll's song 'People Who Died' was one of two songs that were invariably performed at wakes (usually by a revolving pick-up band made up of friends of the deceased, passing the mic for each verse & chorus) after every overdose, murder or suicide. It seemed then that we were all destined to eventually suffer one of those three fates, and our collective fatalism grew with each lost friend (the other song we always played at wakes was the Dead Boys' 'Ain't It Fun'). Then those of us who survived grew up. I can't read even Jim Carroll's best work at this point without constantly being conscious of the sickening waste of talent his life ultimately was. 'Forced Entries' is far from his best work.
"TOO LATE, MOTHERFUCKER!!!"- Dimestore Liam, 2017
At his best, Carroll was an incredibly talented writer, but this book is at best uneven, and at worst so hopelessly bad and worthless that I greatly resented the fact that I paid $5.00 for it. I thought the most telling scene in the book was fairly early in the narrative when he was watching the NBA All-Star game, and said "I fucked up."; that is most likely the most honest sentence he ever wrote, for once completely without artifice or sardonic, faux-glamourous Devil-may-care pretense. I'm not half the writer Jim Carroll was (and I've always been hopeless as an athlete, in addition to my small size), but given the fact that I share his working-class Irish background and many of his less savory proclivities, I've always felt a certain connection with his outlook on life. When I was a young musician, scuffling in the gutter after the proverbial pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (the leprechaun's hoard, perhaps...), Carroll's song 'People Who Died' was one of two songs that were invariably performed at wakes (usually by a revolving pick-up band made up of friends of the deceased, passing the mic for each verse & chorus) after every overdose, murder or suicide. It seemed then that we were all destined to eventually suffer one of those three fates, and our collective fatalism grew with each lost friend (the other song we always played at wakes was the Dead Boys' 'Ain't It Fun'). Then those of us who survived grew up. I can't read even Jim Carroll's best work at this point without constantly being conscious of the sickening waste of talent his life ultimately was. 'Forced Entries' is far from his best work.
April 5, 2020
Jim writes from the perspective of a bisexual drug addict, in this volume making an attempt to get clean around the middle of the book. Some of the terms are dated, including descriptives of race and the queer community. I don't think he did this to denigrate anyone necessarily, but it was more the colloquialism of his particular subcommunity, coming from a street and arthouse background, and the era and city of his youth. Nowadays, the terminology would seem just dated, not as hip, slightly problematic - not "woke."
He takes more potshots at elitists and he flat out speaks of his dependency on people from diverse backgrounds, so if it seems like he is disconnected and uses problematic language, I think it is because that was the accepted terminology of the time.
I say that because I think it is the major issue people would have reading his work, nowadays. Some people may dismiss the work entirely, and I understand their feelings if they choose to.
Myself, I enjoy it and revisit his poetry and journals because his imagery and experiences were always vividly recorded. He had a gift for expression, and he always inspires my visual art. And that is why I do recommend his work.
His descriptives are incredible, and in this book in particular as he sobers, he gains focus in expression. The imagery and flow sharpen, and the beauty of his expression is on display in the last third of the book especially.
He takes more potshots at elitists and he flat out speaks of his dependency on people from diverse backgrounds, so if it seems like he is disconnected and uses problematic language, I think it is because that was the accepted terminology of the time.
I say that because I think it is the major issue people would have reading his work, nowadays. Some people may dismiss the work entirely, and I understand their feelings if they choose to.
Myself, I enjoy it and revisit his poetry and journals because his imagery and experiences were always vividly recorded. He had a gift for expression, and he always inspires my visual art. And that is why I do recommend his work.
His descriptives are incredible, and in this book in particular as he sobers, he gains focus in expression. The imagery and flow sharpen, and the beauty of his expression is on display in the last third of the book especially.
June 16, 2025
As a big fan of Jim Carrol’s first book “The Basketball Diaries”, I have been excited to get my hands on this book for years! The tone of this work is very different, and it feels good to read as someone in their early twenties. While his first release focused on his downward spiral into losing everything and blooming into his identity, these diaries focus on a new phase of his life. There is a lot of self reflection, brutal honesty, and vivid, sometimes disgusting imagery in this book. I loved this imperfect story of redemption and reality, even when life felt bleak and pointless. It is a slow start and at times hard to get into, but halfway through I began feeling invested in his life and journey. Maybe I’ll read again someday? I’m not sure.
August 20, 2017
jim carroll è stato un grandissimo: nella poesia, nella musica e anche in questi diari. questo è il secondo, il seguito dei "basketball diaries": qui non ci sono più momenti "innocenti" che rischiaravano storie davvero drammatiche, ma c'è una saggezza e una consapevolezza che anche nei momenti peggiori alza i racconti verso vette incredibili. e -a parte la parentesi californiana- sullo sfondo c'è quella new york anni '70 che abbiamo imparato ad amare in tanti film, romanzi e dischi, qui vissuta in prima persona.
December 23, 2021
This far superior follow-up to the pretty good Basketball Diaries takes Mr. Carroll through the darkest parts of the Manhattan drug/art scene of the early '70s, with brief (and mildly boring) stop in Bolinas, California. Frequently insightful, often humorous, and always decadent (without the bragging!), he even manages to kick drugs without being an asshole about it. Takeaway quote: "Doesn't she know how outright embarrassing it is for a man to bet a blowjob from a woman whose cock is bigger than his own?"
July 6, 2025
Im always left high & dry whenever i finish reading books from Mr.Carroll. I didn’t like it as much as basketball diaries in the beginning but towards the middle i was hooked. The whole time i was rooting for Jim to be sober. He finally found his purity. These are the type of journal entries you wanna go back and read a couple times over to really feel whats hes talking about. The California entries were beautiful to read. This makes me want to visit California /NYC badly.
Beautiful & Brute writing.
Beautiful & Brute writing.
March 5, 2017
I loved the basketball diaries a lot and it's now one of my favorite books. But this second one didn't get to me as much as that one did. Maybe it's because when Jim Carroll wrote the basketball diaries he was a teenager and I'm a teenager. But this book didn't stick to me as much as that one did. But I did really in joy it.
December 3, 2021
Better than Basketball Diaries. A bit more colorful and interesting, but still self-indulgent. It lagged at times, but some stories made me keep turning the pages and put off sleep. At the very least it gave a small glimpse into the art, music, and literary world that collided in NYC at that time.
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