Very funny in a few parts. Very HEAVY in others. As someone who has had bouts of extreme problems with breathing a few sections tied in very well with things I've experienced.
Excellent writing debut by Gary Mundy. Starts out deceptively simple, with Mundy musing about figuring out what topic he'd like to write about, and what style he'd like to write in. He tries a few different writing approaches, and topics while continuing to write about his indecision on what direction/topic he should pursue. The samples of various styles and topics are all interesting, but the book comes off a bit amateurish with the digressions about the writing process. Didn't bother me, as it comes off as though he never intended to write a book until asked to do so, so a bit of an amateur feel is almost expected.
The book begins to get very intense as it continues - as Gary continues to share his thoughts on the writing process, I began to feel as though I was in his head....and being in the author's head is a terrifying place to be as he begins to describe experiences of anxiety, alienation and depression. Unique approach that worked very well, far surpassing my initial impressions. Would love to read something more long-form from him.
‘So what I’ve produced is a series of possible ways that this book could go and those now are the book. Was that a good idea? Well, it’s the one I committed to’
The reflective nature of the text makes Mundy feel relatable and sincere even when he questions his own trustworthyness.
Excellent; apocalyptic and scathing. Surprisingly challenging, too - an easy read but those first two pages unbalance you; and the constant re-referencing operates to unbalance as well.
“Gary Mundy is the founding member of Ramleh, and ran the legendary label Broken Flag,” says the blurb on the Amphetamine Sulphate website, none of the proper nouns in it I had heard of before reading this 40-page book, but which, as a fan of Merzbow, I can now say, OK, I can see all of this happening—whether or not it’s literally or fictionally true. The po-mo version of “Is it live or is it Memorex?” is irrelevant if the story is both well-told and true to life (and it is), if not the life of Mr Mundy in particular.
Specialist Fabricator is, perhaps, Gary Mundy’s autobiographical musing about his beloved father’s death; his battles with profound anxiety and, as a result, drugs and alcohol; and his fears of having betrayed two peers to a bad fate early in life and making his wife’s a hell by doing such things as attempting suicide in front of her. The narrative is unadorned simplicity and straightforwardness, weaving together different strands of the story that occur years and decades apart from each other. The mad compulsion to suicide forms the climax of the book, which put me in mind of Simon Critchley’s Memory Theatre and Notes on Suicide, which also cover emotionally intense breakdowns with sympathy and insight.