Review of Crowder's "the eschatology of bluegrass"

Ok, so David Crowder wrote a book. Actually more than one, if you are keeping track. I recently borrowed his latest entitled, "Everybody Wants to go to Heaven, But Nobody Wants to Die - or (the eschatology of bluegrass). I read it in a mere 3 days, which (even though it is only about 250 pages in length) is a nice feat for me - seeing as I rarely ever finish any book, no matter how good, or how short.

Before I get too far, let me give you a little background on Crowder and me. I don't know diddly about him. If we were contestants on the "Newly Weds", I would probably get all of his answers wrong (and be wondering why I'm married to a man, and why this man looks like he escaped from an Austin hippy farm - they have those you know...seriously...). I had heard his name around the Christian bubble for a year or so, but hadn't paid any attention - seeing as he was a "contemp" (murmured with a contemplatory look on my face), and we don't like 'those' kind around these parts. Yeah, yeah, I'm a traditionalist...so shoot me. And while you are at, rather than tell me to put my hands up - play me one of those modern worship songs - cause some where in it, there's got to be the line "raise your hands, and dance around" - and then you can shoot me...I may even be asking for it by then.

That being said, I do try to keep an open mind/heart/ear/eye. I borrowed a few cds and this book from a buddy and started on my journey to come to know the artist/writer known as David Crowder. So on to the book:

The book is not really all about bluegrass. And really, it’s not even all about eschatology. In fact, I'm a little hard pressed to explain to you just "what" it is all about. Crowder, and co-author Mike Hogan do a fantastic job of writing, I'll give them that. The problem is, half the time, you can't tell what there writing about, or what (if anything) this story has to do with that one. I would've stopped reading altogether at the second chapter, if not for one overriding factor - Crowder is a humorous nut-job.

Some would say, "He got jokes". And he does. But he also has problems sticking to a logical progression of ideas - and this makes you want to give somebody a dead arm (perhaps not Crowder, cause you know he doesn't know any better - I mean, he's a musician, not a novelist - but maybe his momma...j/k). By the end of the book, I felt like sitting his publisher down, and explaining why loosely related (if at all) instant messages, emails, and lists do not make for interesting reading material. What held my interest, was the slim hope that sooner or later, he would get to "the eschatology of bluegrass" part of the book. But increasingly, I felt as if, we would never get past the "Crowder". Hey, and he might be a pretty sweet guy - but I didn't plan on reading his own personal diary/minibio/attempt at a research paper, and wanted to hear about bluegrass.

Throughout the book, Crowder progresses through a look at the joint histories of the soul, and bluegrass. Alongside of these, he tells the story of an old woman, a priest, and little boy. Mixed in with this, he sprinkles in a few pages here and there of misc instant messages and off-the-wall footnotes (and oh the footnotes - although many are humorous - most are just, well, intriguing at best, and annoying at worst)...(yay for 5 commas in one sentence...whoop!).

I guess one could come away from this book with a new view on the soul. Maybe. But throughout the book, I came to a greater, and greater awareness that these pages were written - not for strangers - but for fans. That would explain the personal 'rabbit trails' he insisted on following until their end, and perhaps even the assumption that his readers were more interested in him, than eschatology or bluegrass.

Overall -
Crowder fans: eh, it's worth a shot.

Un-Crowder fans: don't look for anything other than a main course of Crowder with a side of music and soul.

And speaking of Crowder's music (if any care): a banjo doesn't make you bluegrass, nor does an affinity for Bill Monroe.

-BH

P.S. - Somebody please break his speak-and-spell