Nothing (Paperback)

In 1977, Paul Morley's father committed suicide, an event which has been ever present in his mind but in a kind of unacknowledged way. "Nothing" is an attempt to come to terms with such a major life/death event, which, until recently, Morley had blocked-out to the degree that he couldn't quite remember in which year the suicide took place.

With his Manchester base, Paul Morley championed Joy Division, whose singer Ian Curtis also committed suicide. The book begins with a lengthy description of Curtis' dead body as Tony Wilson, boss of Joy Division's label, Factory Records invited Morley to do this. The book also touches upon the deaths of other singers such as Marc Bolan and Elvis Presley, deaths which were better remembered and more effectively grieved for by the author than the death of his father.

The book gives an intimate insight into a real family, although Morley's mother and two sisters take bit parts until the latter stages of the book. A lengthy interview with these women fills in many of the factual gaps in the whys, whens an hows of Morley's father and his life and death.

Paul Morley still has the need to play around with words and narrative. The book is entertaining, sobering, funny and sad. It explores all the contradictions of the taboo of suicide and deals with a whole lot more besides.

Like the most powerful relationships we were meant to be together. Two people on this planet destined to be together, and, against all the odds, we discovered each other. We weren’t even together for very long. Just a couple of weeks. Sometimes I felt completely out of my depth. Sometimes I wondered what he saw in me. His mind was so open, too open, his mind sucked you in, consumed you, but it didn’t want to devour you. It wanted to show you so many things, in so many ways. It wanted to explain why it needed you; it wanted to explain so much. But it had to be sure you understood. So it couldn’t explain something once. If there were twenty-five different ways to see something it would have to describe to you all twenty-five ways. And possibly a twenty-sixth.

So I grieve. The relationship has finished. And I’ll never forget it. My relationship with ‘Nothing’ by Paul Morley has ended. The last page is turned. The book replaced on the shelf.

Never has a book affected me in such a glorious way. This is a beautiful book. Ostensibly about the suicide of Paul Morley’s father, it is also an autobiography. Key areas of Paul Morley’s life are examined, dissected and studied. Schooldays, trips to Casualty, the death of Ian Curtis, depression, trousers, Marc Bolan, Paddington Station, taxi drivers, and cleaning ovens. This is a work that despite its subject matter never, ever dissolves into sentimentalism. A book about loss that never loses its way. A book that says quite clearly ‘I love and miss my Dad’ without ever using phrases like that. A book that loves writing. Loves families. A book that you will love.

When Paul Morley wrote for the NME he used to infuriate me. Pretentious twaddle, I thought. Over verbose and under edited. And it was. And I was right. A review of Movement by New Order does not need to use a thousand words where three hundred will do. It’s an album review for heaven’s sake. But a book like this takes you on a journey. A long journey, but never drab. Morley’s literary deftness is an integral part of the journey. Paul Morley is the Eddie Izzard that doesn’t do stand-up. He comes into your home. He puts the kettle on and sits down. And he talks. And you don’t want him to stop. He may stretch your ability to comprehend what is being said, but you won’t care.

If you’re reading this review, then you are most probably toying with the idea of buying this book. Buy it, read it, and then spend the rest of your life remembering it. And smiling every time you remember it.