Confessions of a Crap Artist

It was packed by Limonov fictionalized biography by Emmanuel Carrère.
Turning around this author, this is not quon-ty discovers that he has also committed a bio Philip K. Dick?
I am alive and you are dead.
It nen was enough to rush some thirty years back.
At the time, when there were among the fans and had read and reread all the prose of barjo. Where we part, as stated E. Carrere:

[Of] foreign admirers Dick babas good complexion, marcuso-Reichian leftists, bearded harmless.

Philip Kindred Dick Because, everyone knows (yes, really) not least by the many films adapted from his work at the movies: Total Recall, Blade Runner, Minority Report, The agency, this is it. Even Truman Show is strongly inspired dickiens delusions.
But before this (relative) film fame, was known as Dick insanely author of SF novels completely delusional.
His stories were those of guy who dreams that he is dead so that he is living in another parallel world, the real world, but in fact the guy is inhabited by someone else that he is really dead, but finally he is not dreaming How does it , you do not follow?
Cétait the good old days of LSD (T. Leary, Aldous Huxley, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds,) although Dick nen na almost never taken: notorious hypochondriac, he was rather addicted to various psychoactive substances sold legally in pharmacies to First feel more cool, and then others to be a little more speedé because too melancholy, and then others for less euphoria and good, I must go seek, nothing more in the enclosure front in pharmacy.
The novel dE. Carrère teaches us, or rather confirms, that Philip K. Dick was good and downright wacko: paranoid schizoid tendency (cétait time of the Cold War and Nixon), it does not really make any difference between his novels and his life . It was undoubtedly very well for his writing for cinema and for us, but it was dramatic for all his relatives, his friends and his various companions who never held much longer.
Incidentally, it was also hard for her doctors and other psychiatrists that he managed to bamboozle with natural ease and according to his desires: barjo play when he needed some substances (even with the right profile adapted to the desired pill (?) ) or feign the most normal guy you and me when cétait necessary, or even doctor tell me that this is me who am crazy huh? Aaaarrgh
To sum it all perfectly, lanecdote include burglary. His home on the west coast was once visited, burglarized and ransacked a lot. Sure he saw the sly hand of the KGB. Or rather that of the FBI who wanted to believe in a conspiracy by communists. At least while red naient successfully manipulated the CIA?
Anyway, I'll spare you all the assumptions, I have taken the simplest and most obvious. Dick makes a complaint. For once, nice, cops Beverley lécoutent and even move him home for observation.
On leaving, the cop: why did you do that? Aaaarrgh
See doctor, paranoia also has enemies.
And so we travel with E. Carrere lifetime of expensive barjo.
Who starts strong, since her mother leaves her twin sister almost starve in a few weeks and at the tomb of the little, the father is also engrave the name of the boy leaving empty (phew) the end date. We do not choose our parents.
The whole life of barjo therefore scrolls. With his books, essays, notes, his mistakes, his failures, his unfinished novels, times, and even his success.
We meet the same again (mere chance since the book dates from 1993) Hannah Arendt:

[] This is an idea that really struck washed reading Hannah Arendt: the goal of a totalitarian state is to cut people of reality, make them live in a fictional world.

E. Carrere stretches a bit too long on this osmotic blend between life and work (proofreading a way exegete): Certainly, we understand that Dick was little difference between the two worlds (how that doctor, he ny only two worlds), but the process is a bit long and repeated may not be useful to detail it wasnt all that for each of his major works: Ubik, Master in the High Castle, Simulacra, even if it Androids us recalls a time ah nostalgia
Over the years, Dick will end up writing less and suddenly, this is the novel Carrère taking off to provide a more human and tormented aging writer of a portrait, the brain completely Dizzy, not least as all pills swallowed since these years, but cétait to get better right?
At The approach of the denouement, exaggerated fears of the man (who am I and where courses I?) Then closer to our own uncertainties.
This second part of the book is by far the best while paradoxically the first half has not managed to give us enough envy to plunge headlong back to the brain melted in one of the great works of Master Dick. Must say that unlike us, these stories had still pretty darn old evil?