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A-red-lipstick-wearing bibliophile extraordinaire. Word nerd & Joss Whedon fangirl; Literature lover & book reviewer. Lady Libertine; Tea collector; Potterhead.

Tuesday 4 December 2012

Review: The Diary of a Drug Fiend

There haven't been many books this year that give me writer's block when it comes to reviewing them. Aleister Crowley's The Diary of a Drug Fiend has pushed an Eiffel Tower sized boulder in front of my mind's eye, everything feels ill fitting- like I just can't do it justice.

The book follows the story of the newly appointed Lord, Peter Pendragon and the beautiful Louise Laleham. A whirlwind romance sees them travelling Europe, fuelled by nothing but love, cocaine, and heroin.
We follow the journey of drugs and adventure, as the world opens up around them, the couple find beauty and philosophy everywhere- one drug induced trip at a time. When their supply is quite suddenly (and inevitably) cut off, we witness their decent into madness and despair- it is only here they begin to discover the true nature of their drug addiction, and with this a whole new adventure into practical magick unfolds.

This is one of the most beautiful, heart wrenching, and dismal stories of love and hope, I have read in the longest time. Crowley is such a talent, he has a way with words that seem to figuratively cause my heart swell in a quiet adoration. I felt very connected to these characters; it was as though everything that was happening to them, was happening to me.
I rejoiced at their discoveries and perfectly understood the inexplicable spiritual ramblings of the intoxicated. Their battle scars glittered against my own skin, and at times their plight reduced me to into a pile of shuddering tears.
It might be because on some level, I relate to these star crossed lovers or it might be because when it comes to matters of the heart- I just like a bit of black despair thrown into the mix. I don't know, whatever it is, this book just has it. The kind of it that I usually adore. And adore it I did.

This wasn't the easiest read though, sometimes I found it quite difficult to chew through the despair and it took a while to get used to the writing style of Crowley, even the most basic sentence structure was extremely verbose.
Lord Pendragon, although wonderfully witty got a little irritating at times. It was a lovely break away when the story switched to Lou's point of view. I wasn't expecting it either, so it came as a nice surprise.

It's not exactly an informative outlook into the world of narcotics, you won't find fact here. If anything it's made more real by the simple fact that it is an almost autobiographical account of Crowley's own life. (The beginning of the novel states that the story is true but the names have changed.) The highs have indeed been romanticised and the come downs are dramatised, but that doesn't take away from what a wonderful read it truly is.
What I like most about it is the conversational tone the protagonist takes, it is as if you're sitting in an seedy drug den listening to the most interesting person on the planet recount his tales to you. I believe at one point, Lord Pendragon quite cuts himself off mid sentence and bluntly tells you to not disrupt his anecdote. It's just marvellous.

I can't say this book is for everyone, although I would recommend it to everyone. (All literature deserves a chance.)  Especially to those people who easily fall in love with beautifully crafted sentences. This novel is full of them.

Rating: ★★★★☆

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