"Hip deep in music, Never Mind Nirvana is a telling inside view that perfectly captures the rhythms and sights of late-nineties Seattle." — Peter Buck, guitarist of R.E.M.
Pete Tyler is at a crossroads. Eight years ago he dropped out of a seminal Seattle grunge band to try his hand at a more grown-up calling. Now he's thirty-six ("almost forty!"), a deputy prosecutor (a suit), still hanging out at the same clubs he played ten years ago (the ones that haven't shut down), and still dating the same kind of girls (except now they tell him how much their older sisters loved his band).
Pete decides it's time to get married—he just doesn't know to whom. Possibilities include Beth, his first love, who has disappeared; Winter, his on-and-off stripper girl-friend, who has been living the grunge life too long; and Esme´, a Sub Pop A&R executive who has some life decisions of her own to make. When a date-rape case lands on his desk—the accused is a local rocker Pete's age, the accuser an eighteen-year-old from the scene—Pete finds his past and present facing him from both sides of the aisle, and he finally has to decide where he stands.
Pete Tyler is a cooler version of Everyguy, and Never Mind Nirvana is a hilarious and unexpectedly moving story of a man with one foot stuck in adolescence and the other planted in adulthood. Richly textured with references to classic rock and the music of Seattle's legendary alternative rock scene, it is also a fascinating, bittersweet riff on a particularly American zeitgeist.
Mark Lindquist is the author of The King of Methlehem, published by Simon and Schuster, Never Mind Nirvana, published by Random House, Carnival Desires and Sad Movies, both published by Atlantic Monthly Press.
Almost 25 years after publication, Carnival Desires is available on Kindle. Details magazine called it, “Great postmodern literature. Romantic and cynical, true and original, full of modern ideas and seductive moments … as of its time as such classics as Day of the Locust and The Last Tycoon.” Vanity Fair called it, “A witty minimalist epic … with the smart, spare prose only an outsider on the Hollywood inside can afford.” Amazon says, "Colored by the movies, music, and styles of the era, what was once contemporary fiction is now a period piece."
Mark Lindquist has written for The New York Times Sunday Magazine, the New York Times Book Review, The Los Angeles Times Book Review, The Oregonian, The Seattle Times, Details Magazine, and many other publications.
I haven't disliked a book this much in a really long time. It's like listening to a drunk guy at a bar who just hit on your girlfriend then try to explain to you why he's cool because he used to go to Mudhoney shows before they were popular.
I have more to say about it but it's all mean-spirited so I'll leave it at that.
After the first couple of pages I was thinking that this might be a book for fans of Bret Easton Ellis or the brat pack. It's all there, fancy looking people, hedonistic lifestyles, several excellent music references... But the more I read the more I realised that something was different. Lindquist is not sarcastic whatsoever, his overall narrative tone is even self deprecating and amusing. There is a lot of humour but it is not dark humour which you find in most novels by Ellis.
Our main protagonist starts questioning his own lifestyle and at the age of thirty-six he wants to leave his old life behind and settle down. He's got the job, he's got the looks and he's got the charm but conquering women means possibilities for him, it makes him feel immortal. There is a scene where he is in the same room with Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder and he simply stares at him and wonders how this man can be monogamous when he can sleep with so many women, when he has so many options. I think that these options are also quite central to today's twenty somethings. It is important for both women and men in 2019. So the novel aged quite well I would say.
Nevertheless I feel like there was a lot of potential wasted here. It starts out with a great premise, lots of wit and interesting characters. And I‘m usually the first one to point out that plot is absolutely secondary. But in this case, I feel like the plot didn't serve the novel too well. At times it felt like we were way too deep in rom com territories but then it took another direction again and so the ending was quite unexpected. With a couple of tweaks here and there this could have been an absolute classic.
in the aftermath of 90's grunge and an obvious hail to the 80's lit brat pack, NEVER MIND NIRVANA is a good and informed insight on Seattle, like a tourist guide or something disguised as a romance. The plot is unpredictable enough to make us stay on the wagon till the end, although it never goes off boundaries that much as you would expect from an author praised by Brett Easton Ellis and Tama Janowitz. Nevertheless, inbetween the clichés, Mark Lindquist seizes the zeitgeist of 90's Seattle grunge hype, but it is far from being the masterpiece on the subject. Good read, no doubt, mainly for the nostalgic fans.
Interesting for the Seattle locale and the post-grunge music scene, this is the story of thirty-something Pete Tyler, a lawyer/former rock musician who hasn't grown up yet. He wants an adult life but has no idea how to get there. He is involved in the Seattle club scene by night and works on a rape case involving a local musician by day. This character lacks depth. We would like to see him mature and find true love, but the author does not allow him to achieve any really change, which would have made this a more satisfying read.
Lindquist's protagonist has traded in his grunge-era indie cred for a paycheck (a district attorney, if I recall correctly) and now has to prosecute a former hero in a rape case. Along the way characters are reduced to "Pearl Jam or Nirvana" and by the end we learn that the thing about Kurt Cobain is that he's dead. That's a metaphor.
Had no idea that everyone in Seattle in 1999 was going the same places, doing a lot of the same things I was doing. Kind of weird to read about it now. That part was fun to read but the story was lacking.
Tolerable post-Brat Pack stuff, with whining kept to a minimum and a not-dead yet mother (although her dog is not so fortunate). The incessant band name dropping is annoying, making the rocker-turned lawyer sound more like an aging "modern rock" fanboy than a defrocked cutting edge musician. (You can only be so cool if Plan B is law school). But he does deserve props for correctly pegging The Ventures as Tacoma's finest.
Antihero I couldn't relate to, who seems only interested in female conquests. Plus so much name-dropping of people, places, and bands that I got bored of it within the first two chapters (and I was a music journalist fercryinoutloud).
Boring - maybe it’s the translation, but the story and his protagonist is so out of time - drinking smoking, hunting women - boring - don’t waste your time - The whole music references are also quiet lame - very disappointing story
Lindquist myesteriously gets lumped in with the Literary Brat Pack. I tend to engulf novels written about Generation X. I chanced across this one expecting big things. For me, it was a good read but an overall miss. The novel has all the trappings of Generation X in its heyday. It takes place in Seattle, it is emersed in Grunge Rock. Lindquist comes naturally to this as he lived this life. There really isn't much here for lovers of Generation X other than the window dressing. Never Mind Nirvana is more of a legal fiction more akin to Grisham than Ellis, (or is it Easton-Ellis). Once you shed the Generation X pretense, you are left with a pretty decent story. Lead character, Peter Tyler has some interest. He has obvious commitment issues and is making a tenuous progression from Seattle Grunge musician to an assistant prosecutor. Where the story shined was in Tyler's struggles to transition from his old life to his new life. If there was a problem, it was that Tyler really doesn't grow in the novel. There are no real answers. Spun positively, it doesn't try to conventionally wrap anything up. The ending almost felt like Lundquist was maybe thinking of going for a serial series. I would definitely read more by Lindquist. It was a quick and enjoyable read and I appreciate that.
If you were in Seattle in the 90s in your 20s or 30s, you'll probably nod a lot while reading this book because it's more obsessed with name dropping and cataloging every 90s Seattle musician and landmark (and going over the main character's various conquests) than coming up with a particularly interesting main character or narrative.
Did anyone every ask another person "Nirvana or Pearl Jam?," particularly in the later part of the 90s? Yikes.
Loved that this entire novel is seeped in '90s Seattle culture. It's looking back from the very, very distant future (like, 5 years removed) but it captures the time and place in an evocative and well-done way.
The main character, however, never really breaks out of his mold and is really no different than he was at the beginning of the book at the end. Stagnant character, no change, no growth. Gah.
A former rock musician becomes a lawyer, but still ends up living the same kind of lifestyle and questions himself when he has to prosecute a former cronie for rape. Pretty good, but still unforgivable for the title/cover.
Surprisingly striking and well-written. Lindquist does a very good job of describing that unique atmosphere of Seattle and its night life. First I thought that was all I can say but the end turned out to be a bit more.
Short chapters, good portraits, lot's of alternative rock music.
I liked the part where he wrote about post grunge era Seattle, and how he reminisced on his days as a grunge musician, but the story was really lacking in other areas. I guess it's just because I'm a woman, but all the sex he wrote about was a real turn off (yeah, you read that last line right!!)
Highly reminiscent of High Fidelity, with its coming to maturity story of a 36 year-old attorney who realizes his life has been empty. The musical asides are a highlight, as is the parallel story structure that is used with the case being tried.
If you're from Seattle and are homesick. . . read this book as it's a litany of local bars, restuarants, bands, and sites. If not. . . I wouldn't bother.
Reads like a raunchy version of High Fidelity set in Seattle...in a good way. I really like the author's writing style, and I'll be on the lookout for more of his books in the future.
A friend tossed this book to me and said, "This is an awful book; read it."
Even with that endorsement, I thought maybe it'd be campy, a little cheesy, full of musical references that I'd be amused by, even if I hated the book, since I'm a nerdy music fanatic myself who grew up in the 90s and enjoys pop culture references.
Nope.
This book was...not good.
In terms of writing ability, the author isn't half bad, so I guess he's got that going for him, but the book was so terrible that I want to shake him by his lapels and ask him "WHY? Why did you write this?" If it's meant to be a nod to his youth, it fails. If it's meant to be a commentary on the perils of the 90s grunge scene, drugs and casual sex, it fails there too. It certainly ain't no love story.
It's basically an entire book devoted to the author's nostalgia, which maybe would work if the characters were interesting, but they aren't. Every single female character is a caricature, various shades of the same color - girls in short skirts and waxy lipstick who quote authors and singers, all of them existing as devices for the author to rattle off obscure musical references to show off his knowledge. Ok, we get it. I am from Athens, GA, and let me tell you, NOBODY cares if you know everything there is to know about the music scene. There's always that guy who knows the most obscure band in town and can rattle off the name of the first singer of so-and-so band's dog and where he's buried and who his first girlfriend was in middle school, but this does not translate well to a novel.
When I got to the point where one of his female characters has chosen a house because the light reminds her of something in the Great Gatsby, I began to hate myself. Because the Great Gatsby is my favorite book, and this book made me ashamed of that.
That, combined with the casual misogyny, name dropping of every single musician to have a hit in the 90s, two entire pages of the main character naming women he's slept with or kissed (I'm not kidding)...those alone would be enough to make this book bad. But the worst part is that the MC has no arc. He doesn't redeem himself, he seems to learn nothing. At the end, when he finally goes on his Romeo quest to tell the girl he loves her, he's changed....we think he's finally gotten it. There has been a point to this drivel. But no. The next page, he's off trying to get another girl instead.
This book, man. I'll leave you all with a quote. "Eddie Vedder is sexier than Kurt Cobain. Especially since he's alive."