Hertfielder and Papazien: Why it’s OK to thoroughly enjoy a bad book every now and then

Both of these books are somewhat badly written, at least by the standards I judge writing by. The prose is either unremarkable or flawed, given to cliche and obvious tropes. But I really enjoyed both of them, and I’d be very sad if ever a day came where I found myself unable to enjoy a book that didn’t live up to some objective standard of obsessive rewriting and literary dedication. As much as I value words written beautifully, it seems ridiculous to expect everything I enjoy to fall within that paradigm.

“80.3: Gas Available” is a collection of columns written by Ed Hertfielder for a few different motorcycle magazines. Hertfielder writes short, humorous essays on enduro racing and dual-sport riding, a motorcycle subculture that I have only moderate experience with, but enormous respect for. His essays read a bit like an extremely blue-collar Dave Barry writing mostly for his own amusement -lots of cheap gags and predicable jokes- but it’s honest writing and it’s about interesting shit. Good enough for me.

Charlie Papazien’s “Microbrewed Adventures” is a beer-based travelogue, written by the founder and head of the American Homebrewers’ Association. Papazien has written some of the best how-to books on homebrewing out there and is a perfect evangelist for the American homebrewing Renaissance, but he’s only a mediocre travel writer at best, falling into the kind of cliched patterns of retelling experiences that characterize the blogs of non-writers hiking the Pacific Crest Trail or backpacking across Europe. But again, passion can score points over craftsmanship, and Papazien’s undeniable enthusiasm for beer and the community it engenders covers a multitude of sins.

Recommendation: Read shit that’s interesting to you and don’t get obsessively hung up on exclusively literary prose, or you’ll turn into an asshole and people won’t talk to you at parties.

Reading Log: Best of British

Great used-bookstore find. This little gem was published in 78 and samples some 30 or so British motorcycles from the post-war era through the early seventies. This volume has the most Britishness-per-square-inch of any piece of media I’ve ever encountered, full of regional idioms and generally British peculiarities.

For those of you not familiar with bikes, (or bikes of the vintage and manufacture herein) a very brief summary: British companies like BSA and AMC (along with many smaller lines) made some of the most unique and beloved bikes in the history of motorized bicycles. These machines were always interesting, but often temperamental, downright badly-engineered compared to the Japanese bikes that have dominated from the 70s on. Nonetheless, these impractical and archaic machines were so beloved -even in 78- that an entire series of these books was produced. Best of British features a short biography on each machine, technical specifications, and an owner’s testimony. It’s a unique blend of oral history and reference book, with a bit of a coffee-table vibe on the side.

Reading through a book like this might seem odd, but I love hearing about these old machines. I’ve got no particular desire to own one myself, (as much as I love old bikes and as sexy as an old Vincent might be) but the love these guys have for their objectively inferior bikes is something wonderful. It’s nostalgia, sure -many of the owner’s stories begin with them talking about how they rode or pined after something similar as a teenager- but it’s also an amazing look at the best kind of tribalism we can create in the postmodern world.

Another Successful Trip To Bookhounds

Had some good luck at Bookhounds (simultaneously the greatest bookstore and thrift shop within 80 miles of Bakersfield, CA). All of this for less than twenty bucks.

Really loving this one here:

Got some serious vintage bike porn going on. Mmmmmm. Two-page glossy photo spread: