This is beyond to-do. This is must-do. Christmas vomited in our guest room, and it needs to be cleaned up, boxed and stored in the attic this weekend.
Seriously.
Oh, man. I’ve had a long love affair with “Rent” and Anthony Rapp’s portrayal of Mark Cohen, but I now have a new love for the man behind the voice.
The book’s tagline says it all: “A memoir of love, loss and the musical “Rent.”
“Without You” is written in a way that feels like you’re having a conversation with a close friend. Rapp gives a firsthand account of the evolution of “Rent,” starting with its days as a workshop, long before it became a Broadway show. As he grows in his role as Mark Cohen, Rapp learns that he isn’t all that unlike his character – in both good ways and bad.
Much of the book is a sort of coming-of-age story as Rapp learns how to live while his mother is dying, how to be himself to those he loves most, who he wants to be and how he wants to be loved.
I laughed out loud several times. I had to take singalong breaks. I ugly-sobbed through the chapter discussing the death of “Rent” creator Jonathan Larson and the cast’s performance the night of his death.
I finished reading this book a few days ago, but I’ve been unable to listen to anything other than the original cast recording of “Rent.” I hugged the book when I was done, but I can’t stop thinking about the sheer beauty of this book and the stories it tells.
Quality-control dude must have been out sick. My conversation hearts are muted and difficult to understand.
Oooh, maybe they’re AT&T customers?
I still can’t decide on what to use my gift card for. Perhaps sticking it to my head will help?
I debated whether or not I should write about this book, but I decided it’d be silly to say I planned to read it next in one entry and then never mention the book again.
I can count on one hand the number of books I’ve started and never finished. This book joins those.
I picked it in a spontaneous moment at the library. The cover was pretty, the book-jacket synopsis was intriguing. Why the hell not?
Ugh. Because it sucked.
I only made it about a quarter of the way through, but I just couldn’t handle the pretentious asshats that filled this book. A number of subplots took root in that first quarter of awful reading, but I barely skimmed the surface of the book’s (apparent) main plot: Nouveau riche parents hire an author to pen a novel to their daughter’s preferences. She has no interest in books. They want to impress their peers with a great Sweet Sixteen present. They want to buy her a love of reading.
I tried to like the book and the characters, but I honestly rolled my eyes too much to read straight. Reading isn’t fun when it becomes detrimental to your health.
Up next: “Without You,” by Anthony Rapp
