Grimlock ♥ Ultra Magnus

Sometimes it only takes one hauntingly beautiful book to turn an author into a favorite author.   I first stumbled upon The Man Who Fell to Earth thanks to David Bowie, and I only know of David Bowie because I heard Space Oddity on the radio.   I was in my mid-teens, and my father and I were listening to the harder classics station, one that played Bowie and Queen and Cream, and others of their ilk.   Truly iconic music.  

My father was racking his brains for Bowie's name, and I did something I've only done a couple times in my life: called the radio station to ask who had sung that song.   They laughed and said they thought everyone knew.   Knowing they couldn't see me, I shrugged.   'My dad can't think of his name and I've never heard of him, or his music before.'

'David Bowie singing Space Oddity.'

Thanking the DJ, I spent the next couple of months finding and listening to Bowie's music.   For my next birthday, my parents took me to the local music store and purchased three Bowie CDs for me: Ziggy Stardust and Space Oddity were the ones I listened to the most, to be honest.   

Fast forward to me catching a glimpse of Bowie as Thomas Jerome Newton.   I was hooked on the movie, the spareness, the alienation, the haunting quality of the movie that Bowie simply enhanced.   I found out it was a book and took it out of the library.   I never finished it. 

Then when it came up as a daily deal on Amazon - two dollars on Kindle - I bought it, perhaps forgetting that I couldn't finish it the first time.   I tried starting a couple times, and ended up going back to the beginning this time to get a feel for what I had obviously not remembered.  This time would be shortly after Bowie's death.   I still struggled through the beginning, feeling as if I would weep: the book evoked only Bowie's death.  I only could think of that, and it bled into my reading. 

I put it away until a couple days ago, and have been devouring this along with my comics.   I suppose, although Bowie's death hit me far harder than I expected, that the pain is receding enough for me to read this.   Reading Low?   I could do it, partly because I'd read it before perhaps.   I knew what was coming.   Then again, reading Low made me realize that Bowie identified strongly with the character he had played, the one I was trying to read about.   The main character who dominated the book; it was his story even if it was told in third person point of view, even if he wasn't in every single scene.   I was immersed in his life and it was too close to me.   (I had also been spoiled reading about the movie; it's where I learned about the book, but also where I learned about the book's differences and knew that the ending was far more depressing than that in the movie.)

This novel does an excellent job of providing a character study for Newton.  Not only that, I became so fascinated with him, I found myself panicking at the end: it was a surreal moment when he realized what would happen to him.   I knew, and he knew, and no doubt both of our panic was due to this knowledge.   To tell the truth, I liked Newton, enough that I would put this book aside, hoping to put off the ending I knew was coming. And yet it had to at some point.   

Normally when I have foreknowledge of something, I don't feel it as intensely.   In this case, Newton shows very little emotion.   When he does panic at the end, I felt it more keenly due to his even nature throughout the novel.   It became so strong, I could feel myself choking on it, as I do with my own panic.   

The moment the novel was over, however, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.   It was heartbreakingly sad, but it was also over.   I also see why Bowie - an avid reader, who I'm assuming read this book before he played this part - would be interested in Newton.   He has religious, spiritual, and specifically messianic symbology in his work.   Specifically, Ziggy Stardust, although there are uses of different kinds of messiahs including, from what I understand, a computer-type-messiah in Saviour Machine.   He also has a weakness for messiah figures with flaws, as is shown Saviour Machine.   

Newton plays into this obsession: he is a savior, a messiah, and calls himself one at one point.   He also has physical faults, and ends up being an alcoholic, something you find out early on in his plans.   The more time he spends with humans, the more human he becomes, and the more susceptible he becomes to human faults.   He also feels loneliness quite keenly, although he doesn't really show it, and all this makes him a bundle of flaws. 

And I know, this is a Bowie-centric review.   But that's not necessarily a bad thing: not only was Bowie well read, he was incredibly sharp.   He was drawn to things that were smart, and this fits into that pattern, as well.   That being said, while the book and movie share a great deal of qualities, I can't help but think of them as two separate entities.   Changing the ending in the way the movie did changed a lot, in my opinion, although I have't seen the movie in a while.   (I do remember what was changed about the ending, and keenly recall the details of reading about it, more clearly than I do seeing the end of the movie.   Go figure.)   Both are a bit of a slow burn, but they both build this character and story expertly, drawing you in.   It turned out I just needed the proper motivation and to be in the right mood to read this. 

Also, as if this book couldn't get better?   It motivated me to track down Saviour Machine, which  I have never heard before.   I'm listening to it for a third time right now.   Powerful song.  I highly suggest it if you haven't heard it, and have provided a Youtube link up above.