Gus Van Sant goes from auteur to author in an brilliant, inventive, and endlessly entertaining first novel that reads like a Warholian mix of Kurt Vonnegut and Tom Robbins.
In the town of Sasquatch, Oregon, Spunky Davis, middle-aged maker of infomercials, is trying to find his next assignment, finish the screenplay that he hopes will bring him Hollywood glory, and deal with the death of his friend and favorite infomercial presenter, teen idol Felix Arroyo. Enter two young aspiring filmmakers, Jack and Matt, whom Spunky finds strangely familiar--especially as Jack bears an uncanny resemblance to the late Felix. But Jack and Matt are not what they appear to be; they are messengers from a dimension beyond time known as Pink, and they invite Spunky to join them on their voyage of transcendence and recovery.
Using a delirious array of voices signified by different typefaces, a flip cartoon that animates the novel's action, footnotes and line drawings, Gus Van Sant turns the novel into an explosively visual experience, a captivating combination of texture and text. As original and involving as any of Van Sant's films, Pink is both a hip, comic deconstruction of our image-obsessed culture and a genuinely tender story on the classic themes of love, time, and loss.
Gus Van Sant is an American filmmaker and multidisciplinary artist whose work has long explored the edges of American life, with a particular sensitivity to characters who exist outside the cultural mainstream. His career began with television commercials in the Pacific Northwest, but his creative focus quickly shifted toward personal, formally inventive films that examined marginalized communities, especially within gay culture. His debut feature Mala Noche established many of the themes that would return throughout his work, including unfulfilled longing, a dry sense of humor, and an insistence on portraying same-sex relationships without moralizing. He followed it with a string of acclaimed independent films, most notably Drugstore Cowboy, a raw portrait of addiction, and My Own Private Idaho, a poetic story of drifting young men that became one of the touchstone films of early 1990s American independent cinema. To Die For revealed his talent for sharp, satirical storytelling, while Good Will Hunting brought him into the mainstream, earning broad critical praise and multiple Academy Award nominations. Van Sant's career has remained restlessly varied. He experimented with form in Gerry, Elephant, and Last Days, a trio of films known for their long takes and meditative rhythms. Elephant, inspired by the Columbine High School attack, won both the Palme d'Or and the Best Director Award at Cannes, drawing international attention to his unique blend of realism and abstraction. His work has ranged from major studio productions such as Finding Forrester to bold misfires like his shot for shot remake of Psycho, and he has continued to move between intimate character studies, biographical dramas, and genre defying experiments. Milk, his portrait of San Francisco politician Harvey Milk, earned eight Academy Award nominations and remains one of his most widely acclaimed films. Beyond directing, Van Sant has written screenplays, published fiction and photography, released music, and worked extensively in television, contributing to series such as Boss, When We Rise, and Feud: Capote vs. The Swans. His artistic interests extend across media, but his filmmaking is united by a fascination with outsiders, a lyrical visual style, and a willingness to take creative risks. Throughout decades of shifting critical and commercial fortunes, Van Sant has remained one of the most distinctive voices in American cinema.
Nostalgic and shamelessly sentimental in its own unirritating way, "Pink" takes feeling over fact, vibe over memory. A tricky approach, which is almost guaranteed to set a novel apart from any chances of mass market success, actually works wonders for this one. Be it because of Van Sant already being an accomplished artist by the time of publishing, or him not caring about the reception of it to begin with, this book is perfect in its childish indifference to reader's convinience, and that is exactly what makes it work.
It has a bunch of familiar faces (Damon-Affleck powerduo before the big break, Kurt Cobain, River Phoenix), but they are left with different names and put in some ridiculous situations, which liberates the novel from being a memoir and having to follow rules. Free of the pressing fame that names drag behind them, all characters are stripped to their essence, to what made this particular filmmaker want to write a book about how they were, put his appreciation in words rather than images, because that is how we remember our friends - not by name, but by heart.
Neither ficional nor documental, this novel serves no purpose other than to commemorate some deeply personal yet strangely transcendent feelings one talanted man had for a few others he met on his way. It may seem like an empty effort, but that's the thing with celebrities - those memories about them don't only belong to people who were there, but also to anyone who wanted (or still wants) to be. Ironically, it's not about who they were, it's all about how they made us feel, and that is exactly the focus of this book - how it felt for one person (Van Sant, in this case) to be around those people at that time.
In fact, if River Phoenix and Kurt Cobain (not that the book concentrates too much on them, but still) are not your own personal Dead Celebrities - maybe put it down and don't come back to this book for a while, do your reading, watching, listening - introduce yourself to them. Or maybe don't come back at all. It's not a mandatory gathering or en enlightment excersize, it's a relatively private party for those who want to be there and are ready to open themselves to someone else's emotional experience, that is hardly meant to teach anyone anything or tell a cohesive story. "Pink" invites you to come along, but if you're not interested in those already walking the way (and they are not going anywhere, dead or not), maybe choose yourself another journey. They won't mind.
reading this made me feel so gross i can’t lie the like detailed lifting of kurt cobain and river phoenix’s deaths and writing it into a narrative that is so egotistical and self involved VERY WEIRD. NOT FUN.
This book is completely stupid and the treatment of River Phoenix and Kurt Cobain after only a few years of their deaths was a bit disgusting. Even his cheap attempts to add gay porn into the novel was more embarrassing than erotic.
Weird and bizarre are words that don't quite cover this book. It was hard to read at times because of its use of footnotes would be distracting. After a while I did get used to it. There are definitely characters that are based on River Phoenix, Kurt Cobain and Ben Affleck/Matt Damon. There is a lack of cohesion, as the story jumps around a lot. However, I did get used to it and enjoyed the oddness. This book is not for just any kind of reader. It takes the reader through a variety of emotions such as fear, loss, and grief. Reading this was a bizarre ride that at the end of it you just think, WTF.
As a fan of Gus Van Sant, River Phoenix, and Kurt Cobain, who all feature in this book under pseudonyms (Spunky, Felix, Blake respectively), this was mandatory reading. The narrative is a bit of a mess but it is still entertaining and beautiful in parts, particularly in the moments in which Spunky is mourning the loss of Felix. Definitely an enjoyable exercise in '90s nostalgia for this reader.
A great book, a look inside the life of a young indie-film maker, probably very autobiographical. Very interesting, and fun and a great slice of life of Gus's life.... highly recommend, especially for film makers.
Middle-aged gay infomercial (sorry, 'filmmercial') director mourning the loss of his boyfriend-collaborator meets a young filmmaker who looks exactly like him. This is a book of loss and disconnection: generational divides, the in- versus the out-crowd in pop culture and fame. There's also a supernatural element that gets slowly introduced. The perspective switches between our hero Spunky and the last days of a depressive megastar musician who's addicted to buying construction equipment. Despite moments of comedy this is a sad novel, and Spunky's attempts to (re)kindle relationships are tragic and relatable. I saw a couple of places saying this was about Van Sant's grief over the death of River Phoenix, and I can definitely see that. There are also passages in the book that are taken from Spunky's work-in-progress screenplay, a bizarre sci-fi epic full of sexual excess and other odd fixations. I hope somehow Van Sant can turn that into a film. Oh, and also there's a flip-book in the corner! This is far from a great book, but I enjoyed the time I spent with it, and it evoked more feelings in me than I expected.
I found this book to be quite nostalgic and gave me Tom Robbins collage style writing vibes, and I understand what he was trying to achieve concerning dueling realities, and I even found his use of doubling effects and satire on celeb culture and movie making interesting. However, there was this feeling I got reading it that made me feel like this was a bit self-indulgent and could have really benefitted from some editing that amplified the satirical aspects, and put the characters to greater use. There was a whole lot of characters that get introduced and it's hard to feel anything about them--the only emotions they generate are because as readers we know who they are supposed to represent in "real" life, and with better characterization and development (that went beyond just the physical descriptions) we would be better off. There were some of those moments--like the story of Blake's dad playing guitar, but I simply wish there were more of those strangely beautiful and visual parts. I like the Roald Dahl type of illustrations though; those were clever.
so glad i finally finished this. really love gus van sants style of storytelling using small drawings and total left field turns in page formats very much. i found the use of footnotes kinda confusing at first but got used to it as i went on. the use of river phoenix and kurt cobains deaths as narrative inspirations doesn’t come across to me as perverse in any way, as van sant knew both these men and it comes across more as a means to deal with his own grief to me than anything seedy. gonna try act like i understand everything in this book but that doesn’t matter to me cos i loved it anyway!!!!!
An embarrassing exercise in "I wanna be a grunge tween." A dog's breakfast of musings on the film world (largely that of "informmercials"), somewhat fictionalized Kurt Cobain and River Phoenix, unreadable sci-fi porn, and some twaddle about a phenomenon called "pink" that seems more than anything else to serve as a seance-like means for the Van Sant character to communicate posthumously with the River Phoenix character ("Felix").
All of the supposedly imaginative techniques employed -- the use of in-text drawings, the flip-page reel-like drawings in the margins, the multiple typefaces, the footnotes, and probably even the fake Greek -- are actually shopworn (you'll find most of these in Čapek's *War with the Newts*, or for that matter in Sterne and Rabelais) and if anything characteristic of -- guess what -- Young Adult fiction, which, except for the Van Sant character's ephebophilia (or, better, grunge tweenophilia), is what this book aspires to. I mean, really, didn't we all get over "secret coding" our English by using another alphabet by the time we left high school?
I suppose one could argue that the book is an attempt on Van Sant's part to exorcise his River Phoenix obsession. This would put the book in the same company as, say, Goethe's *Sorrows of Young Werther* and Thomas Mann's *Death in Venice*, in both of which the authors exorcise their erotic-romantic obsessions by killing off their erotically-romantically obsessed main characters. And indeed a few aspects of *Pink* play into such an interpretation: the first-person narrator is a pretty dreadful sci-fi writer -- imagine a thirteen-year-old who swallowed a dictionary -- and he is told during the "pink" seance that Riv . . . errm, I mean Felix "loves you as much as he can, but he cannot love you very much." But since we're given several of those sci-fi episodes, we're apparently supposed to take them seriously, let alone the supposedly dimensionally transfiguring "pink" business, into which the first-person narrator is absorbed at the end -- and if the narrator lets up a bit on his Riv . . . ermm, Felix obsession (and that's a big if), he redoubles his obsession with Jack, who, when "in the pink" (my pun, sorry!) *is* "Felix."
Except for the milieu I find it baffling to think that the the guy who produced such films as *My Own Private Idaho* could have written such an exercise in mental emesis and onanism. It's much more what I would have expected from the, ermm, "creative forces" behind *Gods of Olympia* (the 2002 "film", that is).
A Nan A. ("Million Little Pieces") Talese book. Figures.
I read this book very quickly which is a testament to the easy going writing style despite the 'plot' not being easily defined. The novel itself is a trifle bizzare - a cross between Tom Robbins, Douglas Coupland and the movies of Gus Van Sant - but it maintains a momentum that pulls you through despite the ending feeling a little slapdash and the concept of 'Pink' (an alternate dimension) being shoehorned in at the end and only partially developed.
The main character is a infofilm director named Spunky who is grieving the loss of his good friend, Felix, who died way too young. Spunky also courts the attentions of Matt and Jack, aspiring film makers who often seem to be taking him for a ride, mentioning work they are doing without any evidence of it. Spunky is a character where reality is slipping away from him. He has had some success, but not enough. Life is passing him by and the story of Pink is him trying to get back into the stream of it. There are also numerous observations on the nature of reality and filmmaking which were interesting to read.
Pink was... cute and subversive and different- but all the things that made it good were also huge distractions. Parts of it were non-sense and parts were beautiful and often they were the same parts. The self-reverential theme was needed, perhaps, in a story about time travel, and it gave it a depth it would have other-wised lacked, but it also seemed to be a too easy method of explaining away some of the novel's more peculiar idiosyncrasies... for example the characters all having multiple names... interesting... different... and incredibly hard to follow. I don't think I'd recommend it, but I definitely want to know what you think.
Loved this novel to pieces. Charmingly weird and haphazard; packed with some lovely, original, INNOCENT ideas and writing. Hit-and-miss, surely, but mostly hit. Most of all, it's probably the most rewarding and kind gift Gus could ever have given his dedicated fans; full of introspect to his kind (...kinds!) of cinema, and surely full of his love for all kinds of cinema at large. Just flipping through it makes me full of admiration and love for him yet again. I dunno, it's a fucking treat and it personally makes me smile stupidly, in spite of...beause of... it's flaws and bumps yeah
A trippy, surreal piece of fiction that is clearly very self-referential to Van Sant's life and world, full of veiled satiric references to real filmmakers and places. The story sort of floats and then falters at the end and never really reaches a release, it just sort of... floats away. But it's an entertaining read while it lasts, very funny, irreverent, and provokes lots of thought about filmmaking, hollywood, Portland, pop culture, middle age, and more.
If I have to pay for a book I tend to read it to the end. In this case I had to make an exception. The plot is too disjointed to follow and the author is trying out a new format for a novel which doesn't seem to work. I did like the cartoons but then I like illustrations anyway. The endless footnotes as a means of filling in background just wore me out. It was like reading two concurrent novels.
relies on devices to the point of distraction -- from the endless footnotes to the change in typeface denoting a character switch, the flipbook character hidden in the lower corner of the pages rises as the singular steady thread throughout. likely more entertaining text for filmmakers (constant references to method and culture of), leaves the layman... bored.
Finished this days ago. The story was okay. The best part was the way the story was told but unfortunately, I didn't love the rest of the bits like the characters. It may have been trying too hard. The final bits when you get to the time travel parts are a bit flat compared to some of the earlier bits.
I think I may be the only person to like this book. It's crazy and all over the place it rarely seems cohesive yet it all works in a almost (david)lynch type style that makes it unique and interesting.
Pink is an interesting vacation into a wilderness of profanity that I can't help feeling grateful for. At times, the reader realizes that nothing makes sense and yet, experiences illumination unlike he or she has ever felt before.
Gus Van Sant uses time travel and multiple dimensions to muddy the autobiographical incidents that run through Pink. Written in a Hemingway-ish style that doesn't get in the way, nor engage, nor stimulate, this novel is mercifully quick to read, and yet, still a waste of time.
I have 7 or 9 pages in this book of my writing. Gus was fun to hang out with and this was a good experience, except for the part where I didnt get to be a movie star!