sass_quigley's review against another edition
5.0
Amazing read. One mans journey after so much tragedy.
jksmusic's review against another edition
emotional
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
4.0
anderskoehl's review against another edition
adventurous
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
sad
slow-paced
5.0
greendrum's review against another edition
I didn't enjoy the way he spoke about women.
It's easy to escape the responsibilities of your life when you are rich and priviliged
It's easy to escape the responsibilities of your life when you are rich and priviliged
acousticreader's review against another edition
4.0
Like I didn’t need another reason to love Neil Peart! This was so good! I love his brain! And his drumming.
lisahelene's review against another edition
4.0
Neil Peart, drummer for Rush, went through more pain & loss than you could imagine. I would almost give this book 3 1/2 stars because it became repetitive in parts, but Neil was just so good about exposing his heart for the whole world to see that the point became moot. If you like exploring the country, (continent, actually) learning about plants & animals, or learning about different writers, this book may be for you.
susanatwestofmars's review against another edition
3.0
I don't know what I was expecting from this, really. Healing? Yeah, healing. Watching Neil heal, wisdom so I can, too.
I'm not sure I got it, and there's a very strong overtone of "I met the right woman and she healed me" at the end, and that's one hundred percent bummer.
Overall, this was a worthwhile read, a bit long and unfocused in places. Seemed like a great way to pay tribute to a hell of a man.
I'm not sure I got it, and there's a very strong overtone of "I met the right woman and she healed me" at the end, and that's one hundred percent bummer.
Overall, this was a worthwhile read, a bit long and unfocused in places. Seemed like a great way to pay tribute to a hell of a man.
joerichards90's review against another edition
3.0
A deeply personal insight into one man's experience of coping with tragedy.
If you're reading this then you more than likely know that Neil Peart is the drummer and lyricist of Rush, an avid reader and established author. His writing style is that of exquisite detail; he is highly observant and appreciative of his environment, both externally and internally, and as such this detailed account of his 55,000 mile journey across Canada, North America and Mexico, along what he calls 'The Healing Road', leaves little to the imagination.
Unfortunately this is where the book falls down slightly. Overly detailed updates of what Peart has eaten for dinner that night, the mechanical intricacies of his motorcycle, some fairly harsh and occasionally arrogant critiques of people he observes on his travels, and a vast amount of letters written to his friends - often describing such observations for a second time - lead me to the conclusion that the book really could have done with a harsher editor.
There is also often a tangible sense of detachment from the lives of others, particularly the audience of the book. Although, of course, originally written as a personal journal, there is little post-production awareness added to ackowledge the position of privilege: where your average reader might have to grieve whilst maintaining work and social norms, Peart is able to put his life on hold for fourteen months, and it's a little harder to empathise with his experience of riding between nightly luxury hotels, fine dining and 18-year old scotch whiskeys than it perhaps should be.
This is not to undermine the emotional or physical strain of the journey itself, and whilst stylistically there is an occasional lack of pathos, it becomes all the more amicable, approachable, sympathetic and emotionally potent a read when Peart focuses in on his feelings, when he quotes from his favourite authors, reflects on happier familial memories or regails the reader with a series of interesting historical or geographical facts he has learned on that particular day.
Rush fans simply looking for an insight into his musical career would do well to look elsewhere. However, fans of Neil Peart who bear an awareness of his hyper-intellectual (and arguably socially skewed) personality, or simply anyone with a passing interest in coping mechanisms for grief, would certainly find a considerable wealth of material here.
If you're reading this then you more than likely know that Neil Peart is the drummer and lyricist of Rush, an avid reader and established author. His writing style is that of exquisite detail; he is highly observant and appreciative of his environment, both externally and internally, and as such this detailed account of his 55,000 mile journey across Canada, North America and Mexico, along what he calls 'The Healing Road', leaves little to the imagination.
Unfortunately this is where the book falls down slightly. Overly detailed updates of what Peart has eaten for dinner that night, the mechanical intricacies of his motorcycle, some fairly harsh and occasionally arrogant critiques of people he observes on his travels, and a vast amount of letters written to his friends - often describing such observations for a second time - lead me to the conclusion that the book really could have done with a harsher editor.
There is also often a tangible sense of detachment from the lives of others, particularly the audience of the book. Although, of course, originally written as a personal journal, there is little post-production awareness added to ackowledge the position of privilege: where your average reader might have to grieve whilst maintaining work and social norms, Peart is able to put his life on hold for fourteen months, and it's a little harder to empathise with his experience of riding between nightly luxury hotels, fine dining and 18-year old scotch whiskeys than it perhaps should be.
This is not to undermine the emotional or physical strain of the journey itself, and whilst stylistically there is an occasional lack of pathos, it becomes all the more amicable, approachable, sympathetic and emotionally potent a read when Peart focuses in on his feelings, when he quotes from his favourite authors, reflects on happier familial memories or regails the reader with a series of interesting historical or geographical facts he has learned on that particular day.
Rush fans simply looking for an insight into his musical career would do well to look elsewhere. However, fans of Neil Peart who bear an awareness of his hyper-intellectual (and arguably socially skewed) personality, or simply anyone with a passing interest in coping mechanisms for grief, would certainly find a considerable wealth of material here.
thepicapole's review against another edition
3.0
It was helpful to understand what was going through his mind in the years following the loss of his wife and daughter. I gained a better understanding of how he processed the world at that time, which certainly had an influence on his lyrics (Ghost Rider, the song). That said, this was written in more of a travelogue style and some of it got into mundane details that I glossed over.
secarles's review against another edition
1.0
I have been a Rush fan since 1978. I have loved Peart's lyrics ever since. I ride a motorcycle and like to travel on it. I couldn't wait to read this book!
Peart suffered a tragic loss, no one can take that away. But just because you choose to write about a loss doesn't automatically make it a well told story. It's much the same with amateur poetry writing - some people think that because the event/emotion/etc. was deeply felt by them, that when they pen it and share it, no matter how poor the writing, others must honor and respect it. Sure, you can honor and respect that the person felt that way, but once it's shared, the way the person has shared it is fair game for dissection.
So my problem with the book is the way Peart went about sharing the experience. I found it repetitive, dull and bellybutton gazing at its worst--it seemed like an extended pity-party. If Peart would have put his skills as a lyricist to work on this book, he could have easily trimmed it down from 400 pages to about 75 and told the story in a much more compelling read. Instead it just went on forever with no hint of the deft touch he exercises in his lyrics. Because of that style of writing, I just wanted him to stop whining and get on with it.
There is nothing in the book that draws me in and makes me care about Peart or his problems. I was hoping for some soul-searching then wisdom. No such luck.
Not even the travel portions could redeem this because he was drowning in his sorrows and focused on himself. If he would have spent time looking outward instead of inward so much, maybe something would have resonated not only with him, but through him to the reader. Instead we get mostly diary entries (more lists of went here, went here, went here, variety), not narrative which could also have helped pull things together.
I think that maybe this book was written too close to his loss to really deliver anything useful to others.
With as much respect as I have for his lyrics, I wish I could be more positive about this book.
Peart suffered a tragic loss, no one can take that away. But just because you choose to write about a loss doesn't automatically make it a well told story. It's much the same with amateur poetry writing - some people think that because the event/emotion/etc. was deeply felt by them, that when they pen it and share it, no matter how poor the writing, others must honor and respect it. Sure, you can honor and respect that the person felt that way, but once it's shared, the way the person has shared it is fair game for dissection.
So my problem with the book is the way Peart went about sharing the experience. I found it repetitive, dull and bellybutton gazing at its worst--it seemed like an extended pity-party. If Peart would have put his skills as a lyricist to work on this book, he could have easily trimmed it down from 400 pages to about 75 and told the story in a much more compelling read. Instead it just went on forever with no hint of the deft touch he exercises in his lyrics. Because of that style of writing, I just wanted him to stop whining and get on with it.
There is nothing in the book that draws me in and makes me care about Peart or his problems. I was hoping for some soul-searching then wisdom. No such luck.
Not even the travel portions could redeem this because he was drowning in his sorrows and focused on himself. If he would have spent time looking outward instead of inward so much, maybe something would have resonated not only with him, but through him to the reader. Instead we get mostly diary entries (more lists of went here, went here, went here, variety), not narrative which could also have helped pull things together.
I think that maybe this book was written too close to his loss to really deliver anything useful to others.
With as much respect as I have for his lyrics, I wish I could be more positive about this book.