Abstract

In Chronicles: Volume One, Bob Dylan has stunningly come forth, from what has long been his remarkably unyielding inwardness, to illuminate segments of his life in a voice that is fluent, candidly self-revealing, at times self-depreciating and humorous, and yet revelatory as well of the extent to which Dylan has always been and remains self-possessed, purposeful, and driven. Dylan narrates his recollections of particular situations with an immediacy that brings to mind an aspect of what he admired in Robert Johnson’s songwriting: “The compositions seemed to come right out of his mouth and not his memory . . .” . Chronicles has the intensity and fullness of a novel. Three of the book’s five sections recall his early days in Minneapolis and New York City. Two additional sections are drawn from later periods of Dylan’s life. In each of its five sections, Chronicles is structurally complex, consisting of shorter narratives within which Dylan’s authorial consciousness roams from minute recollections to relevant reflections and back again. As a result, Dylan’s first serious book, though limited in scope to a few selected episodes of his life, paints a surprisingly large canvas