Headed for the Blues: A Memoir

by Josef Škvorecký, Kaca Polackova Henley (Translator)

The Czech novelist looks at his childhood and the changes that took place as Communist rule replaced Nazi rule

Genres: Czech Literature, Fiction

148 pages, Hardcover

First published April 1, 1996

About the author

Josef Škvorecký, CM was a Czech writer and publisher who spent much of his life in Canada. Škvorecký was awarded the Neustadt International Prize for Literature in 1980. He and his wife were long-time supporters of Czech dissident writers before the fall of communism in that country. By turns humorous, wise, eloquent and humanistic, Škvorecký's fiction deals with several themes: the horrors of totalitarianism and repression, the expatriate experience, and the miracle of jazz.

Reviews

[Karen]

Skvorecky's sardonic stream-of-consciousness memoir was a challenge (even though I had read most of his books) because it's not a straight chronological recitation of the events and accomplishments of his life but more truly a memoir of his emotional life. As his recollections float to the surface and are connected to other (historical) events and his reactions to and feelings about them, he moves freely back and forth in time and place, between callow youth and world-weary maturity, between (Soviet-dominated) Czechslovakia and Canada. Fascinating and insightful about the costs of pursuing a creative life under a totalitarian regime.

[Carsten]

My version of the books starts with the memoir and then includes a collection of short stories (The Tenor Saxophonist's Story).

I'd bought this book somewhere years ago after having read and enoyed his fiction but ony opened it this month. The short stories are a mixture of light / humour / satire with the background / risks of living in a controlled country, which is the feel I memember from reading his previous fiction. Well observed characters, endings that aren't happy or obvious, an enjoyable read.

The memoir is harder work. Like a complex jazz piece, the stream of consciousness is sometimes a struggle, but I enjoyed it. From sections where a sentence stretches over a page (a majestic solo?) to shorter, sharper sentences, from names introduced early that are 'resolved' later, I suspect that a lot of thought went into structuring this memoir. The content, of course, is interesting, a personal life under the constraints of communism, the life of a man who likes his music and his literature and - like the Danny of the short stories - just seems to want to get along and be human.

[Ian Durant]

A slightly odd publishing combo of a memoir and a number of short stories describing the tensions of artistic and youthful freedom in a repressive society.

The memoir is a highly structured improvisation of a jazz stream of consciousness. Reading it was hard work in the way I find a complex and not very melodic (read lyrical in the context of a written work) piece of jazz music hard to connect with. The topic of growing into adulthood and living in a totalitarian state lends itself well to the improvisational style, allowing for satire, black humour and the personal point of view. I feel that my reading style didn’t extract as much as the author intended - that’s my shortcoming I think.

And then the more conventionally narrative short stories. Clever, funny and all about people in the same context as the memoir they are an easier read but less substantial each one of them.

[Helen]

I couldn't get through more that one third of it, and was disappointed because I love Skvorecky's work. I prefer more straightforward memoir and this was rambling train of thought.

[Czarny Pies]

This curious work probably should never have seen the light of day. It has the feel of being comprised of fragments deleted from other works when the author discovered they did not quite work in the way he had hoped.

For postgraduate students doing a thesis on Skvorecky, the title piece as some merit as it describes his frustration with fizls (i.e. informers) who pursued Skvorecky both in Czechoslovakia and in Canada.

This work is to be avoided by anyone not having an obsessive interest in the life and work of this great Canadian and Czech writer.

[Patrick]

In this short memoir, a rant against the crimes of communism and a lament for his friends who were its victims, Skvorecky abandons his usually highly structured prose for Hrabalesque, rambling sentences interrupted by extensive parenthetical digressions. Though much of his novels are autobiographical, here Skvorecky abandons the protections and advantages of fiction to deliver a powerful, angry testament.