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Original Title:	Confessions of a Crap Artist
ISBN:	0679741143 (ISBN13: 9780679741145)
Edition Language:	English
Characters:	John Isidore, Fay Hume, Charley Hume
Setting:	Point Reyes Station, California(United States)

Confessions of a Crap Artist

Philip K. Dick

Paperback | Pages: 256 pages

Rating: 3.68 | 4244 Users | 267 Reviews

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Confessions of a Crap Artist is one of Philip K. Dick's weirdest and most accomplished novels. Jack Isidore is a crap artist -- a collector of crackpot ideas (among other things, he believes that the earth is hollow and that sunlight has weight) and worthless objects, a man so grossly unequipped for real life that his sister and brother-in-law feel compelled to rescue him from it. But seen through Jack's murderously innocent gaze, Charlie and Juddy Hume prove to be just as sealed off from reality, in thrall to obsessions that are slightly more acceptable than Jack's, but a great deal uglier.

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Title	:	Confessions of a Crap Artist
Author	:	Philip K. Dick
Book Format	:	Paperback
Book Edition	:	Deluxe Edition
Pages	:	Pages: 256 pages
Published	:	June 30th 1992 by Vintage (first published 1975)
Categories	:	Fiction. Science Fiction. Novels

Rating Containing Books Confessions of a Crap Artist

Ratings: 3.68 From 4244 Users | 267 Reviews

Rate Containing Books Confessions of a Crap Artist

I've never read a book about so many irredeemable assholes before. There really isn't a single character anyone in their right mind would care about here. Children, maybe, but PKD pretty much completely ignores them, milking the assholes instead for all they are worth. It got really hard to read towards the middle, not so much because it was tedious or badly written, but because I wanted to rip the book to shreds every couple of minutes after something some asshole said or thought. I can't

"...it doesn't seem to me that I should be the only person who has to bear the onus of believing an admittedly ridiculous notion. All I want is to see the blame spread around fairly."And thus we have Confessions of a Crap Artist - the novel that makes transparent all of the little insanities that we conceal so well! Obviously, being a Philip K. Dick novel, it's a little out there - even the most normal character, Nathan Anteil, somehow manages to find himself in love with the most conventionally

It was refreshing to read a Philip Dick novel that did not end in the tiresome alternate reality 'revelation' trope that so often muddles and mires his sci-fi novels. CONFESSIONS OF A CRAP ARTIST is a mainstream novel; the title, however, is disingenuous, because the novel is not a confession and the crap artist is not the center of the story. In fact, Jack Isidore, the 'Crap Artist' (or, one who collects crackpot theories and ideas) could be excised completely from this novel without changing

The only "straight" novel of Dick's I've read. It's also one of his best. Reading this you can see that his ability to portray a specific time and place through the intimate portrayal of his character's thoughts and habits is what makes his "out there" novels so great.

There's a great French film based on this book, too. Check out "Barjo"

A "non-genre" novel by PKD. The only one of several he wrote during the fifties to be published during his life-time - though twenty or so years after it was written. This was a revelation. I was born in the late sixties so only became 'aware' in the seventies, eighties and beyond... Were there many books like this written in the fifties? Was this the norm? Is this what it was really like in California during that time? This ain't no "American Graffiti" type story. No "Leave it to Beaver" or

wow, a difficult book to assess.you wouldn't think there'd be that much difference between how people thought in the 1950s and now. i mean, it's not like it was the Middle Ages or something.but it might as well have been, in so many respects.since you can read the summary above, i won't bore you with it. instead, i'll tell you what's difficult (and also well-done) about this novel.first off, as a feminist, the misogyny is like a bullhorn in the face. you can't escape it--even the female