Name: Phil James's review of Jerusalem by Alan Moore
Item: Jerusalem
Rating: 4
Author: Phil James

Alan Moore

In the half a square mile of decay and demolition that was England's Saxon capital, eternity is loitering between the firetrap housing projects. Embedded in the grubby amber of the district's narrative among its saints, kings, prostitutes, and derelicts a different kind of human time is happening, a soiled simultaneity that does not differentiate between the petrolcolored puddles and the fractured dreams of those who navigate them. Fiends last mentioned in the second-century Book of Tobit wait in urine-scented stairwells, the delinquent specters of unlucky children undermine a century with tunnels, and in upstairs parlors laborers with golden blood reduce fate to a snooker tournament.An opulent mythology for those without a pot to piss in, through the labyrinthine streets and pages of Jerusalem tread ghosts that sing of wealth and poverty; of Africa, and hymns, and our threadbare millennium. They discuss English as a visionary language from John Bunyan to James Joyce, hold forth on the illusion of mortality post-Einstein, and insist upon the meanest slum as Blake's eternal holy city.Fierce in its imagining and stupefying in its scope, Alan Moore's epic novel, Jerusalem, is the tale of Everything, told from a vanished gutter.

Jerusalem

The New York Times bestseller from the author of Watchmen and V for Vendetta finally appears in a one-volume paperback. Begging comparisons to Tolstoy and Joyce, this “magnificent, sprawling cosmic epic” (Guardian) by Alan Moore—the genre-defying, “groundbreaking, hairy genius of our generation” (NPR)—takes its place among the most notable works of contemporary English literature. In decaying Northampton, eternity loiters between housing projects. Among saints, kings, prostitutes, and derelicts, a timeline unravels: second-century fiends wait in urine-scented stairwells, delinquent specters undermine a century with tunnels, and in upstairs parlors, laborers with golden blood reduce fate to a snooker tournament. Through the labyrinthine streets and pages of Jerusalem tread ghosts singing hymns of wealth and poverty. They celebrate the English language, challenge mortality post-Einstein, and insist upon their slum as Blake’s eternal holy city in “Moore’s apotheosis, a fourth-dimensional symphony” (Entertainment Weekly). This “brilliant . . . monumentally ambitious” tale from the gutter is “a massive literary achievement for our time—and maybe for all times simultaneously” (Washington Post).

Edward Steel

Phil James

Daryl Houston

What a dazzling book, a huge feat of imagination and complexity and I suppose humanism that mostly kept me really engaged. I can't help thinking that it may be one of the bigger literary achievements that'll be published in my lifetime, though I say that in the immediate aftermath of having finished it and without any real critical distance, so maybe it's just the "whew am I glad I've got that one under my belt" buzz talking. It's definitely not for everybody -- see for example the 45-page chapter of what seems like (but isn't) near-gibberish, which really challenged me (and which was equal parts frustrating and genius). It's a long book (nearly 1300 pages) and not a typical narrative by a long stretch. It really is a beautifully made thing, though, and for me was very much worth the time and effort I put into it, but your mileage very likely varies.

Lucas Coelho

Oh boy, what a ride. I am a fan of Alan’s work and this was a very interesting read. I do feel you need to understand the context on which he wrote this and a bit of his work to fully appreciate Jerusalem. 

To be fair, I don't know if I really enjoyed this book. It does makes you feel and think a lot, and in many times I caught myself not wanting to open it, almost like I was avoiding a confrontation. It messes with you a little. I believe that was the intention.

It's becoming a personal tradition to undertake a winter brick challenge. Around the time of the shortest days I'll try and distract myself and semi-hibernate with a book that's either very long or otherwise forbidding by it's reputation.
This one fulfilled these requirements: it's very long and complex. The first third is many short views from individual lives lived in Northampton at different times. There's a connection with William Blake, Jerusalem and Angels but this only becomes clear (er) in the second third. Some other readers on this site didn't make it this far, but the vision and philosophy makes it worth it.
There are some emotional story pay-offs in the end of the last third but by that time they're a bit of an anti-climax. Alan Moore, the author of "Watchmen" and "V for Vendetta" graphic novels is to be applauded for his ambition, but he would have benefitted from a fiercer editor.
Ground-hog day is over, now onward to lighter days.

Nora 

Begging comparisons to Tolstoy and Joyce, this "magnificent, sprawling cosmic epic" (Guardian) by Alan Moore--the genre-defying, "groundbreaking, hairy genius of our generation" (NPR)--takes its place among the most notable works of contemporary English literature. In decaying Northampton, eternity loiters between housing projects. Among saints, kings, prostitutes, and derelicts, a timeline unravels: second-century fiends wait in urine-scented stairwells, delinquent specters undermine a century with tunnels, and in upstairs parlors, laborers with golden blood reduce fate to a snooker tournament. Through the labyrinthine streets and pages of Jerusalem tread ghosts singing hymns of wealth and poverty. They celebrate the English language, challenge mortality post-Einstein, and insist upon their slum as Blake's eternal holy city in "Moore's apotheosis, a fourth-dimensional symphony" (Entertainment Weekly). This "brilliant . . . monumentally ambitious" tale from the gutter is "a massive literary achievement for our time--and maybe for all times simultaneously" (Washington Post).

Phil James &
Jerusalem by Alan Moore

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Phil James &Jerusalem by Alan Moore

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Phil James &
Jerusalem by Alan Moore