Several copies of this book were found in a plastic bin Steven left at our house that was to be donated to Columbus' new infoshop.
I got the feeling that the collection of Microcosm material was the excess stuff that didn't sell when he went on tour peddling anarchist material to young punks. I got the feeling this collection didn't sell because, well, it just wasn't that good.
Not sure why I choose to read Dream Whip first. Nothing obvious about it stood out. Maybe it was the size – a bound, soft-cover book comprised of quarter sheets of paper about an inch thick.
Bill Brown is the prototype diary-style zinester. While I generally shy away from these personal, heart-felt writings, this one stands out. I would, however, recommend reading it in small doses because the entries are so amazingly consistent I think I would have lost interest if I read too much in one sitting. These short reads are made easy thanks to the book's pocket size and short sections.
Filled with travel stories ranging from the American southwest to the heart of Europe, Brown is a man concerned with the simpler things in life and he enjoys digging just below the surface exposing his own unique observations about the world. His feel-good style of writing makes him seem like the kind of guy everyone would like, but might not get overly excited to see if he was passing through your town.
Shortly after finishing this book I watched Homeland Insecurity, Brown's documentary about the US/Mexican border which he narrates. Together, the book and film made me see Brown as a less quirky Ira Glass. If Brown had a larger budget, I could see his work being similar in style and quality to this American Life, the Showtime version, which is the best show on TV.
Some friends immediately dismissed Dream Whip because they didn't want to read some "rich punk's travel stories." While Brown has more privilege than most zinesters (he writes about taking a boat to Europe and renting cars while tales of roughing it - getting stranded or lost, dealing with inclement weather, or facing natural or man-made dangers - are rare), Brown is just so likeable. He's not elitist or ignorant; he simply loves the world around him.
While I enjoyed his writings about the subtle differences between Europeans, my favorite story is pure Americana. The tale takes place at the Raven's Grin Inn, a haunted house in Mt. Carroll, Illinois run year around. The two-hour tour, Brown writes, includes performances by an eccentric entrepreneur and attractions like a free-falling bed ride.
I'm reasonably sure the text is completely hand-written (it almost looks like it could be a computer-style imitating human shorthand), but Dream Whip is not difficult to read like others of its kind. Brown's handwriting is hauntingly perfect (he might have OCD), and the book is a quick read despite the daunting length of 336 pages.
Simple line-drawings of buildings and signs from Brown's travels break up the monotony of text well. The consistency throughout the book is comforting and compliments his writing style perfectly.
If your average zine is a C, Dream Whip hovers in the B+/A- range, but Brown would likely receive the higher grade because he's just so upbeat. While I enjoyed Dream Whip 14, I have no burning desire to read 1-13. I've had enough Bill Brown for a while. Think of him not as the guy you call to be your companion during an all-night rager, but the one you phone at 4 a.m. who salvages a bad night by telling you some good stories and making you hash browns.
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