Wednesday, June 28, 2017
Book Review: 'You're Making Me Hate You' by Corey Taylor
You're Making Me Hate You
By Corey Taylor
Review by David Wineberg
WC Fields had a character he portrayed in a number of his films in the 30s, who was put upon by society and by people’s total lack of consideration for others. During the film, it would become too much and Fields would say things and do things we all wish we could, but can’t. So we laugh and applaud. So with Corey Taylor’s You’re Making Me Hate You. He says the things we wish we could, loudly (lots of capital letters) and vulgarly (no phrase is too coarse). He is immensely entertaining.
The essence of the book is that Taylor has lately come to discover common sense. The great lack of it exhibited by his fellow humans makes him hate them. He should know, he often admits, because he was the worst offender. What he sees around him has suddenly become unbearable: “The wells have gone dry on the human race.” But to soften the blow he claims he has” never killed anyone for being stupid”. Though the chapter-opening photos might lead one to speculate otherwise.
Taylor is a rock musician, with a predilection for Rubik’s Cube Bermuda shorts and a wife beater t shirt, the better to display the gallons of ink on his limbs. Yet he has the nerve to criticize fashion because everyone else is a conformist phony. It’s a wild ride no matter the topic of his lecture/rant. He loves tangents. His rants branch off into mini rants off topic, for which he apologizes profusely, but not really. My favorite is where he suddenly screams at his readers for accusing him of smoking too much. He beats us and himself up for a paragraph, then settles back into the lecture at hand. Brilliant.
For a heartlander who was born and lives in Iowa, his language is remarkably British. It is peppered with whilst, telly, queue barging, cheeky, bloody, snogging, muck about, tossers, bad rubbish and bollocks. There’s more to Taylor than he lets on. He sort of admits he is well read. His deepest felt concern is with music, his main passion. He is disgusted with the current state of it. But he has also just discovered jazz and is thrilled with the education it is giving him.
At the end he comes clean and admits the book has a higher purpose - a call to save ourselves and future generations from ourselves, in words as sincere as he can. I never expected this to be such a worthwhile read.
Editor's note: This review has been published with the permission of David Wineberg. Like what you read? Subscribe to the SFRB's free daily email notice so you can be up-to-date on our latest articles. Scroll up this page to the sign-up field on your right.