No Matter How Much You Promise to Cook or Pay the Rent You Blew It Cauze Bill Bailey Ain't Never Coming Home Again

by Edgardo Vega Yunqué

Book Overview

An epic novel of jazz, race and the effects of war on an American family This sweeping drama of intimately connected families --black, white, and Latino-- boldly conjures up the ever-shifting cultural... This description may be from another edition of this product.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0312424027
• ISBN13: 9780312424022
• Release Date: September 2004
• Publisher: Picador USA
• Length: 797 Pages
• Weight: 1.64 lbs.
• Dimensions: 1.5" x 5.6" x 8.2"

Customer Reviews

Look for other works by this gifted author.....

The writer of the Publisher's Weekly review should be more thorough in their research before writing reviews. This is not Sr. Vega Yunque's "debut" novel. He has written and published, I believe at least two novels and at least one collection of stories and has published widely in journals/magazines. The man writes superbly and I was thrilled to finally have his beautiful book in print, after hearing so much about it. I'm furious with his publishers for the lack of promotion. Readings from this novel, which must have the longest title in publishing history, are quite special with actual jazz accompanyment. I believe that the publisher missed the boat when they failed to send the author out on a major book tour. It should be recognized, rewarded and READ.

Cool Book and whatnot

When I heard that this author had spent sixteen years writing an epic novel having to do with jazz music, I said, "Here we go again," having just read the two other 600-page Great American Novels published in 2003 -- those of Messrs. Lethem and Powers-- which somehow dealt with ethnic identity and music. And the sleeper, Vincent O. Carter's epic of growing up in Depression-era Kansas City, while not specifically about music, is certainly musical in its prose. So I had to read this book and didn't care what it was called, Concerto for Horn & Hardart or John Goldfarb, Please Come Home. I have to disagree with the reviewer who said this novel doesn't have the 'sensitivity to music' of Time of Our Singing (undoubtedly a fine book in many ways), and I think one basis for comparison is both authors' interpretations of Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez and its jazz adaptation by Miles Davis and Gil Evans. I think that Mr. Vega Yunqué gets it exactly right in Garlande's dialogue with Wyndell (Joseph Strom take note). One thing I really loved were the histories of the characters, especially the rural Southern ones like Pop Butterworth, Buck Sanderson, Lurleen, et al., and I also like the author's sense of family and the interrelatedness of some of the characters in terms of ethnicity. And I think that shows in his view of music: he knows the lyrics to St. Thomas, he knows Phil's solos on Thelonious Monk at Town Hall, and someone I know even gets a word in: "Yeah!."Walter Mosley not too long ago wrote a great blues novel set on E. 6th St. on the Lower East Side, but this one includes some of the landmarks and history of the neighborhood, the transit system, some of the literature, etc., that you probably have to have lived there to know about. And finally, I loved all the information about New York Puerto Rican culture, the PR sense of self-identity, and especially the humor. Another great American cross-cultural irony is that Vidamía learns more about that culture by hanging out with her white half sister than from her Puerto Rican mother and stepfather. I liked Elsa because she's smart and she grows over the course of the novel. A lot to recommend about this fine book.

Zing! Went My Heartstrings

To start with, I feel sorry for anyone who chooses not to read this novel based on some of the reviews posted about it. True, some of the scenes get to be a bit graphic at times, even uncomfortably so. Yet, for Yunque to have backed off would have robbed the reader of some vital touch of realness lacking in many authors, who are too chaste and concerned about what people will think to write what needs to be written. I find it ironic and more than a little sad to know that our society is one where we blithely glance over newspaper headlines of bombings and wars in foreign countries, as well as our own, and yet it is the subject matter of fictional novels which makes people rise up and shout: This is too much! "No Matter How Much You Promise..." offers us a multifaceted view of the melting pot that is America. The novel, itself a fusion of ideas and sounds, ex-plores the connection between one girl and the Puerto Rican, American, Irish, and African American cultures which course through her veins. At times Vidamia seems invincible, armed with her goldcard (a 25,000 dollar limit) and her sassy P.R. attitude, but then a door opens for a moment and we catch a private glance of the struggle going on inside her. Vital to the novel is the rich tradition of music that Yunque weaves into the story. From the Farrell family subway band, to Pop Butterworth's forgotten musical career, to Billy Farrell's own marred Jazz talent and more, music reaches into every aspect of the characters' lives. To read the novel without the accompaniment of the selections referred to within the story is like eating a sandwich without bread: you can still eat the contents without the bread, but obviously something is lacking. If nothing else, this novel should leave you with a greater appreciation for Jazz and related music. The other draw to "No Matter How Much You Promise..." is the emotional rollercoaster that Yunque drags the reader onto. Personally, I was brought to a bout of weeping (as well as a night or two of subdued contemplation), the likes of which I have never experienced from a novel. I found Yunque's characterization of the 'Four Horsemen of Avenue B' as `a twisted quartet of perverted junior ex-ecutives of evil' to be horrifyingly perfect. There are no changes of heart or character here, they maintain their inherent evil all the way to the bitter (and I mean bitter) end. But don't be deterred by such emotional outbursts, as the story offers just as many high points as low. One section in particular will, if nothing else, crack a smile on your face, as Pop Butterworth harangues no one in particular with a wonderfully amusing (if not slightly blasphemous) sermon on the true account of the creation of man. By the end of this novel, you will have wept with horror as well as with joy. You will never look at music, family, or yourself in the same way. While Yunque may get unnecessarily preachy at times, dealing with race, his symphonic narrative str

Problems? Maybe! But What A Masterpiece!

This is the most personal review I've ever written, and I'm somewhat embarrassed, but I don't think I care, because I can't talk about this book "objectively" anyway -- whatever that means. It has changed my life and will haunt me for a long time! The context is important to my reaction, but first . . . Other reviewers are all over the place, and that's fine. I love differences of opinion. One talks about contrivance, and I don't see it. (Is Cliff really supposed to go after Fawn on his own? Doesn't calling 911 make better sense?) One talks about lack of control in style and structure, and I'm not convinced. Pop Butterworth's closing scene is a stupendous aria in rondo form, equal to Mozart's "Deh, perdono," no less. Think about it! OK, I grant this novel MAY have problems here and there, but that's not exactly what it's about. Here's a comparison, one I can't validate. People who read Russian tell me that Dostoyevsky is an awkward stylist, clumsy and sloppy in many places. And I treasure elegance and polish. How I admire James and Herzmanovsky-Orlando for those qualities. How I babble with delight at Wallace Stevens and Lampedusa. But isn't there a sheer overwhelming greatness about Dostoyevsky that more than compensates? That said, I don't think Yunque is sloppy or clumsy. I can't find anything wrong beyond a couple of minor points.Anyway, I never thought I would wail and sob like a baby, ever again. For God's sake, I'm 61 years old! Thank God I was alone when I read what really happened to Billy in Vietnam, especially the circumstances under which his memory is activated. I felt like Macbeth -- "I have supped full of horrors" -- but oh man, what a scene. It was totally earned; every part of this novel makes a contribution, nothing is expendable, everything supports the four-movement structure, and I think I can prove it. I was absolutely shattered, broken to pieces and put together again in a way that makes me understand and accept life better. Any other criticism feels like a picayune quibble compared to the staggering success of weaving together all these themes on an emotional level hardly ever to be experienced. A great, great achievement. I teach literature and hold it sacred that characters in fiction should never be treated as if they were real people. Still, these characters have so much "realness" it will always make me ache that Elsa, Lurleen, the children, and everyone who cared about Billy will never be able to know what a true hero he was in Vietnam, how completely he really was his father's son, how he achieved in the moral sphere the breakthrough he was once afraid to make in the artistic realm.I read this novel while on retreat at a Cistercian monastery deep in the Vienna Woods. The concentration I was able to give it heightened the whole experience, as did moments during my week there. The day I finished Yunque's novel, I went to the evening service of Compline. It's all about the music, too -- at

An incredible journey through words...

This is an absolutely amazing book, written by an exceptionally talented writer. Edgardo Vega has succeeded in becoming the best-known Puerto Rico-born American writer of all time, and this novel proves that his talent is worthy of legendary status. This is the first of Mr. Vega's work that I've read, but I intend to seek out more and after this engaging novel I am greatly anticipating his next publication.If you read one novel all year, make it THIS one.