David Littlejohn - The Man Who Killed Mick Jagger

[dem bones]

David Littlejohn - The Man Who Killed Mick Jagger (Corgi, 1979)

Blurb:
"Ladies And Gentlemen - The Rolling Stones"

Ronald Harrington- graduate student misfit, social outcast, lost in the confusion of the California hip scene and trying every escape he knows to get free.
It is time to rebel, he thinks - but rebel against what? And now he knows, perched on a gantry high above the stage, poised to jump on the sleeky, sweaty body of the idol of his generation, the prancing, teasing symbol of everything that at once repulses and attracts him...


San Franscisco, 1969 and, as if the Rolling Stones didn't have enough problems to contend with on their ill-fated US tour, now it seems poor Mick was murdered before they even reached Altamont.

The Stones' two performances at the Oakland Coliseum Arena bookend Mr. Littlejohn's 282 page novel, but the band have no other discernible part to play in the development of Ronald Harrington's life. Ronald is a brilliant academic, a closet homosexual, an overweight slob with a self-mutilated face and a head full of violent fantasies. Everyone hates his rubbish moustache. He hates his parents for their lame, middle class aspirations and the favouritism they show his elder brother, Hank (a Navy man). He loathes the Hippies and the entire up-itself counter-culture, the shallow rock and pop filth. He doesn't even fit in with his contemporaries. So when a teacher veers from the syllabus to treat his class to some Nietzsche, Ronald can only draw one conclusion. He's a superman chosen to do something of monumental important that will change the course of history ...

All of which should, and probably does make this a must-read, but it left me cold. Admittedly, this is because approximately 90% of the subject matter sailed way over my head, but that brilliant, come-on of a title might have been kept safe for another novel. This one can't live up to it because Mr. Littlejohn is too (self-consciously) literate. Most of the book sees Ronald travelling Europe, commenting on national treasures, having the occasional sadistic fantasy and feeling sorry for himself in multiple languages. It's hard to care for the boring git. Still, it probably says something plenty awful about me that the one chapter I enjoyed concerned a nightmare ocean crossing aboard an Italian liner with passengers and crew so seasick they almost sink the ship under a deluge of vomit.