Saturday, July 13, 2013

Why Can't I Live In Chris Kluwe's World?

I don't oftentimes take the opportunity to discuss a recent book that I've read, primarily because I tend to read old books.  While I find that people are constantly rediscovering movies, and thanks to the relevance of the Oscars, there's always new generations discussing film, books aren't accorded the same courtesy on the internet.  I don't see hordes of people going out to discuss The Scarlet Letter or Jane Eyre for the first time, primarily because we all hit those milestones in high school, and that is why you will rarely see me enjoying the latest Henry James novel on the site, even if that's what I'm holed up in in the real world.

But occasionally, I read a modern, just released book, and I figured why not bring that discussion here, particularly since it brings up a larger point about a public figure I've latched onto quite a bit in the last year, Chris Kluwe.  I have an odd fascination with Tim Tebow (a topic for a different day), so I can't say this is the first football book that I've read, but I will say this is the first one that I poured through with an intellectual vigor.

The book is not your typical football memoir (or a memoir at all, really), but then again, Kluwe isn't your typical football player.  Most football players that cross the line into being a mainstream celebrity rather than just an ESPN-celebrity do so because they are either on the cover of GQ, have started dating a supermodel, or have entered some sort of notoriety (think Michael Vick and Aaron Hernandez).  Kluwe is a punter (a position that doesn't generally attract hordes of fans), happily married, and while very attractive, was not the pretty boy that Tom Brady and Mark Sanchez are, which generally mandates Calvin Klein modelling contracts and Details magazine exposes on your ab routine.

No, Kluwe became famous because he called out State Rep. Emmett Burns, a conservative Democratic legislator from Maryland, for his harsh words against Brendon Ayanbadejo, a former linebacker for the Ravens who was a vocal proponent for gay marriage.  The colorful (you can check out the letter here) retort from Kluwe launched a huge national debate surrounding gay marriage, and became a bit of a turning point in the ballot initiative that was pulling through Minnesota at the time to ban gay marriage (an initiative that failed, and subsequently led to Minnesota legalizing gay marriage this past legislative session).

Kluwe has since become a personal hero, something I'd never thought possible for an NFL player (if I ever latched onto an athlete as a child, it was a swimmer-I had little use for football).  There's little not to like about the guy-he's charming, nerdy, articulate, passionate about equality, and stand-up comic hilarious.

The book is a series of essays, with a few short stories and personal anecdotes thrown into the mix.  The book is strongest when Kluwe lets his inner-personality shine through.  I loved the piece about his band, a topic that is underrepresented in the book (perhaps being saved for a more traditional autobiography), and the anecdotes about what he's learned about his kids.  He's most at-home in the world of science fiction, where he regularly pays homage to everything from Ray Bradbury to The Twilight Zone to Raymond Chandler.  He can cultivate atmosphere well, and his recent promises that he's working on a science fiction trilogy should be treated with anticipation if his prose pieces in the book are any indication.

The book isn't perfect (few are), and while the consistency with which he shares his political beliefs is admirable and a bit stunning from a well-known non-politician (actually, scratch that-consistency for anyone in politics is stunning), it occasionally gets repetitive.  But that's a small quibble, and the chapters are typically just a few pages long, so you will soon be moving away from politics into an anecdote about the Pope's Twitter or the Super Bowl.  His pleas for justice, empathy, and honesty are particularly useful in a world where media and politics seem to have little use for any of them, and we as a culture seem to be too jaded to call anyone out for forgetting them.  It's a book that I could not put down (you always know it's good when you have to finish reading the book in a DMV parking lot because you need to know where it goes), and one that I highly recommend, particularly based on its oddly (and sadly) refreshing take on humanity.

Oh, and if you're not following Kluwe on Twitter, you're doing yourself a massive disservice-his posts are my favorite part of the site.

No comments: