I, too, read this cover to cover, stopping only to sleep and work. It was literary popcorn, and I was munching away at the spectacle before me.
Picking up the Spurl editions copy, it had a certain magnetism to me, as many of their books do, that appealed to my interest in seedy, disturbed characters and their expository neurosis and psychosis. The book in its presentation lets on like it's a kink filled book about a wife navigating her husband's sadism.
But in fact, the role of William Seabrook's sadism is more of a haunting thing, unnamed through most the book until the end.
The book instead is an exploration of the relationship between two major literary celebrities, who are now mostly unheard of. Though it has Seabrook's name in the title, it's Marjorie's memoir by and large. It's written about twenty years after he had committed suicide, and by the end, you get the feeling that the whole thing was type of exorcism—an attempt to expel her love and memory of William Seabrook, perhaps an attempt to proclaim her compliancy in his final state, and to pay a long awaited respect to her loved deceased through validating the merit of his work.
Willie was presented in the text as wild and seedy as I had hoped from Spurl Edition's presentation of the book—the man credited with bringing the term "zombie" to white america, the man famous for eating human flesh once, the man known for his time spent in the insane asylum dealing with his alcoholism, the man known for his sadistic experiments. BUT WHAT I LIKED THE MOST about the book, is that it's told through the lens of Marjorie, his second wife, and long term partner.
THIS LENS IS interesting because while they were lovers—the were 'sexually incompatible' which means we see Willie's tendencies through a more 'prudish' lens, one that despises the sadism of her partner but has to reconcile her love for him. Constantly. That to me is interesting in itself. Layers are good to me. I dig it.
But I suppose the most interesting thing about the lens, is that we get to see these two bohemian writers, both famous in their own rite, interact with a who's who of famous writers of the time. THE ENGENDERED DIFFERENCE IN THE WAY THEY ARE TREATED is interesting from a sociological reading. It's constant, and manifests in almost all their interactions. My favorite to paraphrase (i again don't have my book here), was when Marjorie gets introduced as Ms William Seabrook, and she, a published writer too, has an internal battle with herself of whether or not to claim her identity beyond her partnership with him—she's says, 'I go by Marjorie Worthington'. I just love that.
Lastly, with the lens of distance with time, we can see the internalized patriarchy imbedded in the text. For example, in the way she seems to respect his writing over her own (because his wild macho approach is valorized); or how she always feels like it's her job to take care of him—certainly a reflection of her deep impassioned love for him, but also at times a reflection of the patriarchy imo; the general overtones of self doubt—the patriarchy imo; or how she (might) have written the book to accept blame for his ultimate condition (he brought it on himself) patriarchy!; how he keeps begging her to be around for him to lean on like a crutch (as if she has nothing better to do) patriarchy!; how he interrupts her work to send her on errands and doesn't value her creative time creative zone or creative process as much as he values his own and everyone one was complicit in it (she hella points that out though and it's savage)obviously patriarchy!
Also, while I think Seabrook was an interesting and seedy character, and the bondage photos taken by Man Ray are really intriguing, and he might have done a couple positive things for american culture, I think I'm mostly ok that his work has gone out of print and out of favor. I think his travel books (from my research after and while reading the book) are probably really sensational, and written from a perspective of white superiority and probably in a major way, contributed to many of the negative stereotypes that still linger deep in the recesses of the american imagination (ie: the savage, or the primitive)
Sorry for ranting a little bit. I read the book before i could really process my thoughts about it!
Yeah it was a good book. It wasn't the best written thing ever but it still was something i couldn't put it down!