Nabat/AK Press 2000 Softcover 340 pages

Reviewed by El Hombre

"The habitual criminal is a person who habitually retains stupid lawyers"

I'll be honest with you. I'm not a 'bad man'. When I enter a bar full of local toughs, I'm generally either dismissed or pummelled. The closest I get to criminal behaviour is scoffing at copyright law as I spend hours on Napster. The hardest drug I abuse is dutch gin. I am, however, a voyeur. Thieves, drug addicts, pimps and the generally anti-social fascinate me. I'm a wannabe. A Lookie Lou. The underbelly of society, with its disenfranchised populace, is the meat in my reading list sammich. The allure of the vagabond and outlaw has led me to crack the spines of the works of Hunter S Thomson, Jack Kerouac, Elmore Leonard, Michael Turner, Arthur Nersesian, Frank Miller, Irvine Welsh and William S Burroughs. The last on that list enthusiastically embraced and related the unlawful, degenerate and perverse. Since my first exposure, I've been absolutely captivated by his style and character. But what captivated Burroughs?

When William S Burroughs was only 12, a book was published that would change his life and thereby become the trunk to a tree of creators exploring the outlaw life. That book was the autobiography You Can't Win by Jack Black and it was, in large part, responsible for Burroughs' first novel, Junky. The blueprint for Burroughs' account of crime and addiction is found in the pages of Black's autobiography, and the blueprint is a better read.

Black's story begins as a youngster in a Catholic School, leading a generally honest life. His first self-documented crime is the theft of a newspaper containing an article about the 'murder' of Jesse James. This early incident holds the seeds of who Jack Black is to become. The act of thievery is only a part of the foreshadowing. He stole reading material, and its contents were about an outlaw. Black's fascination with books coupled with his romantic notion of life on the other side of the law set the path that eventually led him to the position he fills at the end of the book: an unrepentant, articulate ex-convict librarian for a San Francisco newspaper. The time between is spent riding the rails, robbing safes and homes, doing hard time in both Canadian and American prisons, smoking his money away in Chinese hop joints, and surviving life a criminal and fugitive.

On a superficial level, I was enamoured by the authenticity of language in this book. In addition to books by the list of authors previously mentioned, I've also spent my fair share of time immersed in the genre of the western. While many western writers do an admirable job mimicking the voice of the turn of the century, Jack Black, having written then, has an obvious advantage. Combine this use of language with his natural storytelling ability and a spectacular aptitude for turning a phrase, and you've got a book that's damn hard to put down. An example of his style is found in a simple sentence explaining his hard luck. "If it was raining soup, I couldn't buy a tin spoon." He also lists a number of characters, such as Salt Chunk Mary, Soldier Johnnie, The Sanctimonious Kid and Foot-and-a-half George, that made me wish I had a cool hobo name, too.

If you're looking to this book for more than quotable bon mots, there's a message to be found as well. Though a habitual criminal, Jack does strenuously follow a code of honour that provides him with two very important things: A solid reputation amongst the Johnsons ("The bums called themselves 'Johnsons' probably because they're so numerous"); and eventually the incentive to go straight. It's this honour that sends him into danger to return papers that are worthless to him but valuable to the man from whom they were pilfered. It's this honour that finally gets him off the hop, and leads him to a job with the San Francisco Call.

The other point Black makes with this book is the contrary nature of the justice system's urge to punish. In a speech to the court, Black poignantly explains that it was the acts of kindness and hope that made him see a life inside the law, but the brutal disciple he received at the hands of jailers hardened him and embittered him toward society. Later, he expresses hope for prison reform, but a century later, not much has changed.

As a voyeur of the lowlife, I can tell you this book gave me an eyeful. Unfortunately, I doubt there'll be a sequel.