During work I sat. Every time I glanced in the direction of the Kindle icon on my desktop, like a 2yo asking "why" repeatedly, the icon queried "Is it 5 o'clock yet?" Between feedings, my brain rumbled for more & my eyes, set loose in the evening on "Life Knocks", consumed its words like a ½-starved bird flapping & flailing at a seed feeder. Or perhaps more accurately, like a cat tearing at a catnip sack.
When they were handing out politeness or conscientiousness before incarnation to earth, whoever was charged with the task must have tripped, spilling it on the autobiographical character, Colossus, who wound up overdosed. This, along with happenstance and at times an alcohol/drug-infused brain, land him in some of the most uncomfortable, dodgy, and comical predicaments: wresting the arm of a suicidal German on a Cambodian beach, mouthing off to the head of the Cambodian mafia and near-drowned in the Indian Ocean;
compassion--with an ability to walk around in others shoes whilst sometimes forgetting his own---provides a counselor's ear for a homicidal drunk in a bar, a racist, meshuga landlord with high-octane boundary issues with his tenants, & anyone seemingly in need of one (with patience for that mad landlord that deserves nothing short of canonization).
He must have some sort of serious angel on his shoulder. Though I think for the period in time covered in this book, the angel must have called in a brigade of reinforcements. With mind-blowing powers of observation & bare honesty, so empathetically-placed was I, frequently nervously in the moment with him, I quite frankly wished I could reach in and pluck Colossus out of the story; but then, I was eager to see how the story unfolded.
He loses himself in love, loses love and is adrift without it; but the message ultimately is optimistic, assuring us that we're firmly moored on the shores of hope. There is a personal love story here but I feel the real love story is the adventure of life itself somehow perfect in all its imperfections, its ups and downs ("knocks"), and the humor found in it all; and that how we see Life is how we choose to look at it. "We can see life as a mountain; or we can see life as land that moves upwards with an awesome view."
The book succeeded further for me as a reminder to view the rough, cold, patch of concrete I live on--where angry, apathetic, weary, disappointed (even despairing) feet of residents pound hope out of the pavement every day - with softer eyes of equanimity.
"I wanted to tell him life is thinking you are a broken kettle; until it rains, a fish falls from the sky and you realise you were always an awesome goldfish bowl." We know without a doubt from the start "Life Knocks" is an awesome goldfish bowl. Jolly-good. Buy it, read it, enjoy the ride laughing along the way. You won't regret it.
And on Craig Stone's writing, I leave the words to David Foster Wallace: "What the really great artists do is ......They're entirely themselves, they've got their own vision...and if it's authentic and true, you will feel it in your nerve endings."
Consider my nerve endings: felt.