For some reason, I really like reading books about Bruce Springsteen (Commentary)

Does anyone else out there like reading about a subject more than you like the subject itself? I suppose tabloid readers would qualify — the types who need to know who Jennifer Aniston is dating, but won’t pay money to see her new movie.

But in this case, I’m talking about books, preferably big, fat biographies. My library had “Glory Days: Bruce Springsteen in the 1980s” by Dave Marsh, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed sitting on my balcony with a breeze through the trees, cars rushing by below, a souvenir sports cup of H2O and this 478-page beast from 1987.

I can devour the nuances of how the track listing for “Born in the U.S.A.” was decided upon, thrill at Marsh’s accounts of stadium shows from 1985, be engrossed by the chronicle of Springsteen’s evolution as a promoter of social change. And yet: I haven’t bought the Boss’ 2009 album yet. I can’t even think of what it’s called offhand.

Now granted, I have more CDs by Springsteen than by any other artist. I won’t automatically call him my favorite musician (thinking of current bands, I’m obsessed with Camera Obscura; growing up, I felt the Wallflowers spoke to me; for sheer song-making talent, Butch Walker gets my vote); but he’s certainly my favorite among legendary musicians.

But here’s the interesting thing: I took a break after Marsh’s chapters on “Born in the U.S.A.” and popped said album into my CD player. Then I got kinda bored and went back to the book. “Born in the U.S.A.,” which turned 25 years old this year, is a great album. “Downbound Train,” which Marsh hates (bizarrely, considering how much he celebrates the Boss’ catalogue), is my favorite Boss song. But this time I thought, “Yeah, I know how that album goes. Now let’s get back to reading about the album, because that’s what’s really interesting.”

It’s not the first time this has happened. I read a Springsteen biography (“Ain’t No Sin to Be Glad You’re Alive” by Eric Alterman) in my car on breaks during the summer of 2002 when I stocked produce at a grocery store. I imagined myself being as downtrodden as the characters in Bruce’s songs — here I was filling shelves with russet potatoes when clearly I was meant to be writing about rock music for a newspaper (or a blog, as the case may be). I now know how ignorant and shallow that notion was — I had/have it much better than Springsteenian characters, simply by virtue of not being jobless or homeless.

On one restless night a couple years ago, I read “Bruce Springsteen’s America: The People Listening, A Poet Singing,” edited by Robert Coles, until the sun came up. Then I went to bed in the morning, just like Bruce — or Bruce’s character, if you prefer — in “Dancing in the Dark.”

I don’t read about Springsteen entirely to learn about Springsteen — because by now I know his story pretty well. It’s more about going back to a time and place that existed in my lifetime, but which I only know about from books (because I was a kid who grew up in a city, with a home and a family — but many kids aren’t so lucky). In the case of Marsh’s book, the time and place is 1984 in working-class America. Strictly speaking, Marsh doesn’t paint an appealing picture of this heartland that Springsteen was touring through — people can’t find jobs, and some don’t have homes. And yet it is appealing, in the way that any book that paints a picture of the past is appealing.

I’ve seen Springsteen and the E Street Band in concert (in 1999 at the Fargodome, too early in my Springsteen phase to appreciate the show), and I’ve enjoyed his records in all their styles — I think “Magic,” his most recent rock album before this year’s Super Bowl-hyped effort, holds up first song to last; sometimes I’m in a dark enough mood to appreciate the stark brilliance of “Nebraska.”

But I think I like reading about Springsteen more than listening to him. I don’t know what that says about me — maybe it just means I like a good tune but I love a good book.

But it still seems bizarre enough to start a comment thread about this question: Is there a subject you enjoy reading about so much that it actually eclipses your enjoyment of the original material? If so, what is it?

Comments

Matt's GravatarI have something similar. I am obsessed with Norwegian black metal. I have read multiple books (more than one), magazine articles,etc and there’s a
really good documentary called True Norwegian Black Metal that I’ve watched many times on the youtube. That being said the music is total shit. But the
dumb stuff those guys do and the funny videos they do makes me love them. Springsteen rules, though, so I’m not sure its totally the same.# Posted By Matt | 8/21/09 5:14 PM

John Hansen's GravatarActually, that is an even better example, because you clearly like learning about the subject more than you like the actual subject.

I thought of another one for me. Being a Star Wars fan, I have read several biographies and magazine articles about George Lucas’ early career. As such, I have read in detail, many times, about how he made “THX-1138.” But when I tried to watch that movie, I got bored about 15 minutes into it and had to give up. But if I came upon another article about it, I’d probably read it start to finish.# Posted By John Hansen | 8/23/09 12:22 PM