Being an EBTG fan, started with the Marine Girls and listened and saw Ben and Tracey live in solo projects was interested when I read about this book. I found it beautifully written, not a 'woe is me' book, but an honest and thought-provoking diary of a rare and debilitating illness.Amy
I registered a book at BookCrossing.com!http://www.BookCrossing.com/journal/11651328Gary Grey
A fantastic memoir. An insightful and moving account of the experience of illness. Life-affirming and beautifully written.David Glenn Dixon
Washington City PaperArts & Entertainment : Book ReviewGut SymmetriesBy Glenn Dixon • June 20, 1997It's impossible to watch "Cocksucker Blues," Robert Frank's unreleased chronicle of the Rolling Stones' 1972 tour, without thinking that the real reason the band suppressed it was not to shield the public from all the fucking and nodding, but to hush up persuasive evidence of a fundamental truth: Few things are as uncharismatic as rock stars when they're not actually doing their jobs.That was a less publicity-savvy era, of course. Twenty-five years later, everybody's comfortable with the notion of fabulousness as so much costuming. So when Ben Watt, who with partner Tracey Thorn makes up Everything but the Girl—a band that has always conveyed a glamour born of plainness—chose to write about himself, he couched the story not as an intimate look into the ordinary life of an extraordinary person but as a simple chronicle of the curious mundanities faced by a common person under exceptional duress.In 1992, at age 29, Watt developed Churg-Strauss Syndrome, an autoimmune disease so rare that only 30 cases of it were reported over a 25-year period. In a catastrophically extreme response to a still-unknown allergen, Watt's body attacked itself, destroying the blood vessels that served his small intestine, causing most of it to rot inside him. A couple of months later, he emerged from the ordeal nearly 50 pounds lighter; he had nearly died several times, and surgeons had been able to save only 15 percent of his small intestine.In his preface, in unstated but presumably intended homage to "The Magic Mountain," Watt explains the difference between outpatient and inpatient hospitalization as being akin to entering unfamiliar terrain: "Overnight is when you are really on the mountain." The slender account that follows—dispassionate but harrowing, self-focused but not self-obsessed, by turns clear-sighted and pain-blinded—thrusts readers into a realm of personal suffering that would have been otherworldly even to the inmates of the Sanatorium Berghof.Watt's plain-spoken account takes a position among the growing literature of the past couple of decades that seeks to demystify the body, to expose its wants, needs, and workings. By studiously hewing to the body's essentials, even when they prove distasteful, Watt opens himself up without forfeiting his privacy or his self-respect. "My bowels cramped up," he writes. "I started to vomit—not regular vomit, but watery green bile. I filled a bowl beside my bed. At eight, though, it really started. A whole litre this time. Strangely, it wasn't an unpleasant experience. Quite nice all things considered. I seemed simply to have to open my mouth. The velocity with which the green bile erupted was astonishing, like a geyser. It was fascinating. Like cartoon spewing. I had five or six spasms, with either Tracey or a nurse passing fresh disposable buckets in the shape of bowler hats to me like firemen, while I filled them up and handed them back down the line."Too many corporeally centered writers unveil their insecurities when exposing their bodies. The implication is always "my body is important because it houses me!" Watt suggests that you should be concerned about his because you've got one a lot like it—and it may one day traduce you the same way his did.Although we know Watt's going to make it, that he'll live at least another five years—he is staring at us from the cover, after all—he ably unspools the details that draw us into the narrative. He actually gets us to savor the texture of his awful experience—I was somewhat puzzled to find myself continuing to read while eating.With equal acuteness, Watt observes the way illness distorts familial links. His mother agonizes over his father's refusal to visit; his somewhat distant half-brother captiously accuses him of leading the wastrel rock 'n' roll life. Watt touchingly records his family's helplessly inappropriate attempts at solacing him, and recalls one cab ride back to the hospital: "I crouched in the back, gripping myself still, eyes brimming with tears, staring at the backs of the fold-up seats in front, Tracey with her hand on my back, although I didn't want it there." He watches, unable to eat and barely able to speak, as Thorn's 4-year-old nephew catches himself after starting to repeat his earlier offer of a jelly snake.At least in terms of narrative exigencies, Watt is fortunate to get shuttled from room to room and for these rooms to be wards, where he can watch analogous dramas unfold around other patients' beds. There's a husband irritated by his wife's incessant knitting; another fastidiously reluctant admittee who soils his new, clean pajamas almost instantly, forcing him to adopt the state-sanctioned uniform of his comrades; a young drug addict, his chest ravaged by abscesses, who is gently tended by his parents; and a fated man with a chronic cough who is quietly wheeled out while Watt is out of the room, only to be replaced by another patient later in the day. "That night I was kept awake by the sheer absence of coughing," Watt writes.Watt's clinical condition may have been virtually unique, but the surroundings in which it was treated grow increasingly universal. Medically chaperoned death is a commonplace in technologically developed countries, and Watt gives insight into the possible ways we won't get out of this world alive.Watt's avoidance of his and Thorn's pop stardom throughout "Patient" (he refrains from using the band's name except on the dust jacket) doesn't result in a book that has nothing to say about the pair's work. It doesn't seem impertinent to suggest that Watt's illness may end up suiting him and his career well. Having been chubby all his life, he now has a foolproof way to keep the weight off (he embraces his new gauntness, eschewing naso-gastric sugar drips and powdered glucose supplements that would enable him to bulk up). EbtG has also been driven to produce its best music.An apparently well-adjusted couple since the early '80s, Thorn and Watt have generally had to pretend quite a bit to come up with their lovelorn plaints. Before '92, it was all getting a bit glib, eventually heading for the admittedly pleasurable cul-de-sac of that year's "Acoustic," which contains five covers and six old EbtG songs. Even 1988's "Idlewild," generally considered EbtG's strongest pre-illness album, in retrospect is too much the sort of thing that members of a women's book circle would recommend to one another.But losing a lover to illness—even temporarily—means falling prey to an infidelity beyond the grasp of either person. The fear and anger the situation breeds is perfectly adaptable to affairs of the heart. (Marriage vows traditionally include a sickness clause, with good reason.) Thorn has observed that the largely gay audience that made "Missing" a club hit a year after its release was partly responding to a romantic lyric that broaches the ultimate question: "Could you be dead?"Watt laid bare his condition by appearing with his shirt undone on the cover of the album from which that song was drawn, 1994's "Amplified Heart," the title of which is doubly freighted coming from someone who had just been auscultated on a regular basis. And if Watt's "my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway" was a curious lyric before "Patient," those peaks and valleys now emerge as clearly as the ones on a medical chart.The sort of group that makes purists insist on a distinction between rock and pop, EbtG makes music for people who hope they get old before they die. There's a good chance that such a band will continue to age well, so there's no guarantee that Watt will take time out from his music to follow up on his literary success. Should he decide, however, to pursue a second career, "Patient" indicates that it could be one of some promise. CPJen Squire
It didn't take long to read this, and (after a reasonable interval) I'll be reading his memoir Romany and Tom.I was concerned about a singer I liked in the 80s/90s writing a book - I've written about why that was unnecessary and what I loved about this book.http://jen-squire.blogspot.com.au/201...Nina
This is a heart warming story about a quite horrible, life threatening illness and about the hospital life that follows. This is not a story for the squeamish.Paul
Admittedly, a book about an obscure 80's British pop star's journey through an extremely rare and nearly fatal encounter with an extremely rare immune system disorder might be a bit of a hard sell for some but this is truly an amazing and - yes - inspiring book. Told with a songwriter's ear for detail and an almost unbelievable honest and wit, considering the circumstances he was facing, this is a riveting account of what it is like to go from the "normal" world where one is in control to "patient" world where one surrenders control, not to mention dignity. Yet in the end it is the dignity of a survivor that carries this book. An unlikely a page turner as ever was but none the less, highly recommended.D. B.
A gut-wrenching first-person account of a gut-wrenching disease that has Ben Watt's (the weirder-looking half of Brit pop duo Everything But The Girl) guts literally rotting away from the inside out. Watt, while no literary artiste, is close enuf to his own dilemma to analyze it, and yet detached sufficiently to keep his life-and-near-death struggle from descending into sappy sentimentality.Stay healthy!Annette
Interesting and a quick read.Saya Hashimoto
Blow by blow account of a rare illness, sounds boring, isn't.Lizzie
An otherwise healthy young man suddenly develops an autoimmune disease that results in him losing much of his large intestine, with a long hospital stay, and huge changes in his life. He's British, and tells his story in a clear, understated way. He does a great job of conveying how disconcerting it is to be suddenly no longer able bodied. He's half of the British pop duo Everything but the Girl. I listened to some of their songs on the web, which weren't to my taste, but I liked his book.Jennifer
Stunning account of time in British intensive care unit with an often deadly disease.Mark Slee
Gripping and beautifully honest. Ben's narration of his struggle is both incredibly moving and grounding. Tremendously enjoyed this read.Kelly
I expect nothing less from the man who brought us NORTH MARINE DRIVE.Julie Barrett
Eh, it was ok. I got this memoir from the library primarily because it is by Ben Watt, who is part of the duo called Everything But the Girl. Dang, I love their songwriting. I'm currently on a memoir kick and this seemed like an interesting premise; sort of like a House episode on tv. Why is Ben having these symptoms? What could it be? etc.Turns out that reading about a person's illness is pretty dang boring - not like a tv show at all. The part that held the most fascination for me was reading about the UK medical system. Wow, their hospitals sound like total dumps compared to American ones! This memoir takes place in 1992 but the hospital sounds like it is out of the 1930s. I guess American 1930s. Apparently normal for Britain.None of the patients have private or even semi-private rooms. It's a big ward with lots of beds. The patients have to go down the hallway to use the bathroom - like you are at a youth hostel or second rate b&b. Also, no tvs but a tv common room. It seems to take forever to get tests done or to see specialists. And the nurses live in dorms nearby? Or something like that. It wasn't clear in the book. And the food is your typical old fashioned British food - very yucky & not particularly healthy.The main thing I got out of this memoir was an appreciation for how clean & modern our American hospitals are. And I've had several hospital stays & in the early 80s I worked as a candy striper at the public hospital my dad worked at. Plus visiting friends & relatives at various hospitals over the years. Even the dumpiest hospital I've been in has had tvs & bathrooms in the patient rooms. I hope I never need to go to the hospital in the UK.