I've been interested in jazz music for some time...which probably explains why I picked up André Hodeir's Jazz: Its Essence and Evolution from Half-Price Books when I saw it on the bargain shelves. No doubt * I thought that it would give me some insight into the music, because I certainly did not understand it.
And then the book sat on my shelf for a long time, untouched.
But when I'd finished reading Ian W. Toll's Pacific War Trilogy, I knew that I needed to read Something Different, since I'd had all of the WWII that I could stand, at least for the nonce, and for some reason I picked up the Hodeir book, which I'd never completely forgotten about.
As I read, three things became clear: (1) Hodeir knew music, (2) Hodeir loved jazz, and (3) Hodeir was a supercilious son of a bitch. So I continued to read. It didn't take long for me to decide that I really enjoyed the book, both content and style, and I looked to see what else Hodeir had written vis-à-vis jazz music. I found two items: Toward Jazz and The Worlds of Jazz. Both were available at reasonable prices at Thrift Books ($8.69 and $6.29 respectively, plus $1.05 sales tax and $2.58 shipping, for a grand total of $18.61), so I went for them.
Toward Jazz was even better than the first book...less supercilious, more scathing, and more specific and technical. Alas, my knowledge didn't allow me to follow all of the technical aspects of Hodeir's discussion, but I still appreciated it because it seemed to be solid proof that the man wasn't just shooting from the hip. Reading this book inspired me to look for early recordings by Louis Armstrong, including the things he did with King Oliver, and also to start listening to Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington, Thelonious Monk, and others.
So when I got to the third book, I was stoked. I was looking for some serious insights into Dizzy Gillespie, John Coltrane, maybe even Lee Morgan (who I'd happened upon and enjoyed immensely).
I was in for a rude awakening. Hodeir decided to take a less direct route in his approach to writing about jazz with The Worlds of Jazz, and instead of writing personal essays, he wrote fiction. Mostly short stories, but there's also a play at the end. Which sounds interesting, and maybe it even could have been...but Hodeir just didn't have the writing chops to bring it off. There were a few pieces here that managed to pique my interest and even bring some brief moments of illumination to my understanding of jazz, but they were lost in a welter of bad writing. How bad was it? Well...the aforementioned play is a straight rip-off of Waiting for Godot. It even steals lines directly from Beckett at times, but it's more the rhythms of the speeches and the tone that pervades. But where Beckett is witty and insightful, Hodeir is superficial and sophomoric in his humor. I really had to force myself to read this piece. In other spots, Hodier seems to think that the way to create a character's voice is to repeat a phrase 5 to 6 times per page. I'm not exaggerating there, by the way. In "Lecture in Jazz History Delivered by Professor Deadbeat at the University of B," Hodeir repeats the phrase "don't you know" at least 55 times...in a thirteen page story. It is very much like Chinese water torture. (And yes, I have.)
This is a terrible book, and I'm sorry that I spent my time and money on it. I would recommend both of the previous books, but would heartily suggest that you avoid this one.
* It's been awhile, so I surmise rather than remember.
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