The first time my friend had mentioned The Dice Man to me, I judged the book by its cover, not by the person reading it. This was good, and bad. For obvious reasons.
At the time I was getting my literary fix from the likes of Burroughs and Kerouac, Kesey and Wolfe – writers I read about over the years, occasionally picking up their most poignant titles, and reading them from start to finish with incredulous delight.
It was during a random tangent, while I was explaining to my friend how great a particular book was. He urged me to read The Dice Man.
“I think you’ll like it. It’s not like the books you normally read, it’s not as heavy but it’s good. I read it when I was younger, and you don’t know if the writer is telling the truth or making it all up.”
“Convince me.”
“What sort of extract do you want?”
“Anything that you think will convince me.”
He picked an extract; the writing was different, admittedly. It was though the writer was talking to himself, inside his head, not an audience of readers. This intrigued me, but it didn’t convince me.
“Ok, well, I’ll buy it tomorrow. I’m not convinced, but you recommended it, so I go by your decision.”
“Give it a chance, it’s a good book!”
People, environments, and situations are described in such wonderfully colourful detail, that you almost feel like you’re there
After entering the book shop to purchase The Dice Man, and instead leaving with a further nine titles I went back to the office. At the time I was reading another Kerouac title, so I agreed that I would read The Dice Man after I had finished. I looked at the front cover when I got home, “Novelist of the Century” Quite a bold claim I thought, I looked at the author of that quote, “Loaded”. I laughed to myself, and thought, “Christ, I bought a book adored by a lad’s magazine?” I find magazines that display the female flesh to sell magazines rather pathetic in nature, as are the readers that purchase them. “Turn page, wank, sleep”, as a friend once described them.
“Recommended by Loaded eh? It’s bound to be good ain’t it?”
“Don’t diss it man! You ain’t read it yet, you’ll see. Just give it a chance.”
My friend is smart, smarter than most people I know. I’ve only known him for less than a year, and already he was recommended a book – I have to respect someone rather highly to not listen to what they say, but also to hear and act upon it.
I began the book with prejudice – I induced a state of dislike, but it was subtle. My open-mindedness was the greater victor, and justifiably so. The Dice Man is written by a Luke Rhinehart, the character of the book is also Rhinehart – the book has been written from the perspective of Rhinehart, the author, writing from both a first person and a third person perspective, switching between at “random”.
The tale is about a psychiatrist bored with his life as it is. He’s sick of seeing mental patients. He’s sick of writing journals, sick of the places he visits, of the family he has, the world he lives in and all that exists. He’s sick of it, and ultimately bored. The book captured me, in so far as it was reflective of how I had felt, and perhaps still do. I gave it a chance, and decided to see if it could teach me something new, other then remind me of boring everything is.
Rhinehart, by chance, makes a decision to do something that will break the rules of his morality, his inhibitions, his entire life, and the lives around him. From the patients he meets, to the board that wants his head on a plate, to his best friend, and his own family.
He’s sick of writing journals, sick of the places he visits, of the family he has, the world he lives in and all that exists
The Dice plays an important part in the book. In fact, the Dice are another character, even as inanimate objects, hence I refer to them as Dice not dice. The Dice are the core of the book, the influence and the manifestation of everything someone wants to do – the door to open perversion, bending the rules of morality, breaking the rules of law, and allowing someone to indulge in their darkest desires. In some ways, the Dice could be seen as the box in Hellraiser – the box opens the gates of hell, for a sacrifice/for the promise of immortality and power. In The Dice Man, the Dice are the box – they open the gates of freedom, the taste of freedom, the responsibility being placed on the Dice.
Rhinehart is no longer in direct control of his life. The Dice are. The Dice decide what he does; based on the choices he offers them. There always needs to be a choice that he would not take, and should the Dice fall on this decision, then, in the name of the Dice, he will follow through.
His first encounter, as mentioned, is by pure chance. He offers himself options. If it’s any of three numbers, he would go downstairs and rape his best friend’s wife. If the dice fell on the remaining three numbers, he would go to bed and sleep. This is essentially the premise of the Dice.
To take away responsibility for the choices, and to hand over control. “I did it, but I didn’t choose to do it – the Dice did.” At first, it’s amusing, or was for me – the whole concept, the whole idea that you could negate responsibility through the use of Dice. And then you become drawn into the book, and wonder as to the will of person who would go through with it.
The Dice Man is not without its faults, at times, Rhinehart becomes repetitious, beleaguered and withdrawn for a few moments. You feel bored, during small moments – and wonder if he was actually sure about what he was writing. The whole theory, as explained by Rhinehart, is that the book was written randomly, that chapters are not consistent, but thrown around. He may digress to something else, or will change from “I did this” to “Dr Rhinehart did this”. He changes roles, names, behaviours and so on, in order to provide some consistency to the theory in which the book is “being written”. Whether it’s true or not, I don’t know, but if it is, he doesn’t pull it off very well.
The bulk of the book (and at 530 pages or so it’s quite a bulk), is moderately engaging, at times challenging and pretty entertaining overall; in a manner with which you would treat a throw away film. It made me laugh, it tapped into areas that are not at all explored by most other writers, and if they are, not to such an extreme perhaps.
The whole theory, as explained by Rhinehart, is that the book was written randomly, that chapters are not consistent, but thrown around
As the book goes on, the character of Rhinehart starts to disintegrate – those that hate Rhinehart in the medical profession, start to succumb to his ideas of the Dice way of life. Soon his patients are living the dice life, his wife, his kids, his peers and eventually centres are opened around America healing those of a mental disposition.
Rhinehart’s book will offend some, but it should be read with an open mind. The idea of Dice living is intriguing, if perhaps far fetched, but hell, isn’t that what writing is about? Going beyond the normality of what is written, exercising the mind to think differently and to accept things that are perhaps not otherwise acceptable in reality. To explore hidden depths, desires, and to tap into parts of the reader that are not often called upon.
The writing is, for the most part, sharp, funny and extremely well composed. Characters are explored in depth, but without boring the reader. People, environments, and situations are described in such wonderfully colourful detail, that you almost feel like you’re there. You are drawn into the life of Rhinehart, and are taking part or at least watching this all take place.
Rape in all varieties, sadism, masochistic behaviour, mental breakouts, paedophilia, homosexuality, orgies, gang bangs, prostitution, seduction and many other topics are discussed and acted out, in very fine detail at times. If this sort of literature makes you gasp in desperation at calling the “Blasphemers Hotline” then don’t pick this book up. If you are not of a sound mind, or if you are open-minded, and are happy to explore the thoughts of something that isn’t often explored, then I would highly recommend this title.
Verdict: Provocative, mostly well written, but lacking bite.