Henry Rollins (born Henry Lawrence Garfield; often referred to simply as Rollins) is an American singer-songwriter, spoken word artist, author, actor and publisher.
After joining the short-lived Washington, D.C. band State of Alert in 1980, Rollins fronted the Californian hardcore punk band Black Flag from 1981 until 1986. Following the band's breakup, Rollins soon established the record label and publishing company 2.13.61 to release his spoken word albums, as well as forming the Rollins Band, which toured with a number of lineups until 2003 and during 2006.
Since Black Flag, Rollins has embarked on projects covering a variety of media. He has hosted numerous radio shows, such as The Henry Rollins Show and Harmony In My Head, and television shows, such as MTV's 120 Minutes and Jackass, along with roles in several films. Rollins has also campaigned for human rights in the United States, promoting gay rights in particular, and tours overseas with the United Service Organizations to entertain American troops.
Rollins tore himself wide open to write and release this book, spilling his grief and devastation on the page. Though maybe not the most technically perfect prose, it's amazing in its raw and brutal honesty. Having recently lost someone to suicide, this book spoke to me on a deep level. Somehow cathartic and heart-wrenching all at once.
Henry Rollins is an acquired taste. Yet, those who love him tend to be very dedicated.
The man is simply very well spoken and very smart. People tend to see him as this big, beefy punk rock guy. That's all true, but there's so much more.
This book was written after Henry Rollins and his best friend, Joe Cole, were robbed at gunpoint. Cole was shot in the head and killed in front of Rollins. This, for obvious reasons, really messed Rollins up.
This book is a collection of journal entries, short stories and poetry by Rollins as he comes to terms with what has happened and what he's going to do with those emotions. It's raw and often very unpretty, but it's quite visceral and a powerful read.
If I opened up my copy today, I don't know if this book would effect me the way it did in the dark days (and years) that surrounded me towards the end of high school... That being said, I know I'll never shake the connection I had to Rollins's writing and poetry during that time, and the dozens of dog-eared pages are a testament to how much this book rocked me when we found one another. If this book were a person, I'd give it the ultimate "I owe you" handshake.
I really do not know what to make of this book. It was poorly written and I couldn’t really relate to it, but it will stick with me for a long time. This book is the poetry/journals of Henry Rollins during the height of his music career. He struggles with depression and anger to the point where some of his thought processes are not fully coherent. I was hopeful that we’d see him get better through the book but he only worsened. His thoughts became suicidal, homicidal and even cannibalistic. It was disturbing to find that a real person, especially a celebrity with a following, has those thoughts, but it will definitely stick with me for a long time so in some ways it accomplished what it set out to do.
These two books, written in the aftermath of Joe Cole’s death, are a black hole of grief, pain and depression. They are also Rollins firing on all cylinders, producing some of his best, most nihilistic, pessimistic writing. This is not a fun, enjoyable book to read by a long shot, but it is one of my favorite collections of his writing.
No other book has affected me like See a Grown Man Cry... Like most of his books, it's a collection of journal entries. Most entries focus on the death of his best friend, Joe Cole. No other book has nearly brought me to tears as this one has. His words are so raw. You feel every bit of anger, sadness, depression, and loneliness that he was feeling as he wrote each entry. Hours after putting the book down, I'm still overwhelmed by the sadness he conveyed in his words.
If you long to feel, even those emotions we tend to stray from, this is a definite read. It not only brings to light those feelings in yourself, but it helps you understand the man that is Henry Rollins.
My first Rollins book, holds a special place in my heart but the poetry is beautiful and powerful. Changed my life for so much better! Made me a Rollins fan for life
every book this dude writes is an outstanding collection of feelings, thoughts, especially rage. for anyone who has ever felt that they don't belong, these books fit nicely. i have spent many a day stunned by the clarity achieved by hank in his writings. i only wish i could find an outlet like he has.
Good, but it was like having a friend who's brother died. And then having to listen while he mourned his brother for a year. Honest and gritty - typical Rollins style but painful to read.
A heartbreaking documentation of loneliness building up. Intense. I won't rate this one, it would immediately feel judgmental (well written book, though, I must say for clarity). I would not recommend this to many readers. Could work as an insight into the vicious cycle of ever growing loneliness. Therefore, an enlightening read for therapists seeking to understand the working of the mind of a loner. Most reviewers here seem to place the core of the "story" to the Cole killing, but if you read a bit closer you will dig deeper in time and get a wider picture. After that the Cole case is just the upper layer of the pain.
Ps. I'm a music lover, but I don't consider myself a fan of anyone.
Let me start by saying I'm a big fan of Rollins, his spoken word, music, and some of his writing.
I'd give See a Grown Man Cry two stars. The problem with publishing your own work is that you may not have an unbiased editor. It could have been 5 pages long. There are several great passages based around the themes you'd expect from Rollins: isolation, loneliness, misanthropy, etc. But, it gets repetitive quickly.
Now Watch Him Die would get 4 stars. The tour journals are great, as is some of the prose. But again, it gets pretty repetitive. I'm not saying he shouldn't have written it or what he was coping with wasn't invalid. However, as a reader, I found some of it extraneous.
If I had read this book at 20 I would have called it the most profound thing I'd ever read. I've read it at more than twice that age, however, and I found it to be whiny, tedious, boring and pretentious. Maybe I was innocent then and I'm bitter cynical now.
But I think maybe because I've lived and grown up a bit. I hope the author did, too, I really liked some of his songs.
Regardless, I cannot take seriously someone that sees everything in black (including themselves), but suddenly their friend was glowingly perfect after they were gone. The reductionism is probably the top reason for not taking it seriously. On top of the other things from a few sentences above.
Poetic, gritty, and isolated are the best words to describe the writing of Rollins. In this book set he writes about the loss of his best friend and the anger and meaninglessness it caused, creating sharp, stabbing little pictures into his memory of events, as is his style. If you want beauty in your poetry he is not the poet you want. His work is modern, dirty city.
This book will bring you to the darkest lane in your imagination. Very raw and brutal and yet it empowers ten fold. Not your normal self help kinda read.
Written after the death/murder of his friend Joe Cole. There is more than only grief and anger to Rollins but this book with the line "I am beyond loneliness" kept my from my sleep.
to understand Rollins you have to get into the unrelenting grind of these poems, the slog to get thru the oft-repeated phrases of misery and suffering, the unending day in day out suck of life. this is essential stuff. it was not enjoyable reading. it's a man losing his grip right in front of you. its travis bickle. it's this hot animal machine rhythm that drags you under with it, much like his music. five star material but it's bleakness won't let me do it.
Should be alternately titled "This is PTSD." I started the book as a fan and ended it with mixed feelings toward him. I listen to his radio show and read his columns occasionally in the LA Weekly, and he seems like the nicest person. I thoroughly enjoy them. But reading about his feelings of hate and wanting to kill really turned me off. I understand totally he went through it for sure after what happened - his best friend Joe Cole shot before his very eyes after being out together, and he was afraid for his life as well. That would traumatize anyone. I even understand how it would make one angry. I myself have lost everything in the world I ever owned including pets to a fire a couple years ago and have felt sorrow of the deepest kind and some anger even, but I never felt any hate toward anyone. This is pure spit-in-your-eye hate, and I didn't like it. It didn't set well with me. And the calling of cops "pigs" all the time I totally didn't like at all. And he still does it in his spoken words, so that is something that hasn't changed. I have relatives who are cops. On top of it, I just found the book tedious very early on as most posts were merely about this anger and rage or else waking up with some woman in his bed after having mindless sex on the road. He sure had a good year as far as that is concerned. I have to say I'm very glad to be done with it and so ready to move on to something else.
This was a hard read, but I made it through. Every single page you just want to go pat Henry on the head and say "There, there" but going by many of the journal entries, it's the opposite of what he would want you to do. You can smell the PTSD from a mile away, it's a heart wrenching read. I can't imagine how hard it would have been to write. The book has 3 distinct spaces, they come away like an onion peel, like all the different ways he could think to deal with the pain. The first layer is the most polished, poetry, super refined feelings chiselled to perfection. Go a little deeper and you hit the tour diary layer, the bulk of the book, it's written like he's well aware of the demographic that will be reading his narrative here, angry young men~ I don't know. Finally the last layer seems to be his own personal journal entries, super intimate and definitely the rawest of the bunch. I liked these the most, they didn't feel like they had to go anywhere or mean anything to anyone but him. Sometimes I wonder how I would have felt if I'd read this first, then the tour diary stuff, then the poetry. If your a woman reading this book, maybe try it in reverse the first time, it might speak to you quicker, less walls to break down. Also I'm gonna admit it, I cried okay, I fucking cried. Henry what ever's happening in your life right now, I hope you feel a fuck load better than you did when you wrote this book.
Poetry, prose, diary entries, and other writings from the time period that he was releasing and touring what is arguably his best music, this collection also represents what might be Rollins' best writings. The murder of his best friend Joe Cole (that he witnessed) looms over the second two thirds of this book, much like it would loom over Henry to this day, but it certainly isn't the only subject that he tackles. Just like any person who experiences a horrible tragedy, the senseless taking of an innocent life isn't the only thing he thinks about, but it's never far from his mind, and the memory of it and its impact turns up frequently and often at the most inopportune times. Heavy, bleak, distressing stuff not designed for the faint of heart, but if you can stomach it, this is some powerful, often surprisingly beautiful reading.
Some of Henry Rollin's pieces really tapped into my paranoid and distrusting side. I found quite a few of his prose pieces to be highly relatable to those of us who feel alien from our surrounding society; yet other pieces that felt entirely redundant (we get it Rollins, you like pain and you distrust everyone). Yet...the amount of redundancy feels intentional because it is claustrophobic, isolating, and paralyzing. As a reader you feel trapped in this cycle of constructing walls in order to shut out the world (there are no happy endings in this book). But, Rollins can take that simple feeling of hurt, distrust, anger, paranoia etc. and spin it into some interesting scenarios.
A better collection than Black Coffee Blues, See A Grown Man Cry shows a more refined sense of language, attaining lyricism and resonance where too often BCB became merely repetitive. The material is wide-ranging in form: aphorisms, affirmations, elegies, rants, prose poems, meditations, and confessions. Even a piece or two that reads like haiku. There is still a tendency to rely overmuch on abstractions like "madness" or "violence," but especially toward the end, Rollins provides enough glimpses of the specifics that we might thank him for sparing us his grisliest insights.