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- <text id=92TT1537>
- <title>
- July 06, 1992: Reviews:Books
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1992
- July 06, 1992 Pills for the Mind
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- REVIEWS, Page 73
- BOOKS
- Riot by Appointment
- </hdr><body>
- <p>By CHRISTOPHER REDMAN
- </p>
- <p> TITLE: AMONG THE THUGS AUTHOR: Bill Buford
- PUBLISHER: Norton; 317 pages; $22.95
- </p>
- <p> THE BOTTOM LINE: A chronicle of violence among Britain's
- soccer hooligans.
- </p>
- <p> The title of Bill Buford's first book is disturbingly apt.
- The ancient Hindu practitioners of thuggee strangled their
- victims amid much ritual and in so doing attained a state of
- religious ecstasy. Surprisingly little direct killing occurs at
- the hands of Buford's modern-day thugs -- the soccer hooligans
- of Britain who consecrate their Saturdays to violence. But
- their battles are ritualistic in their choreographed precision,
- and the effects on the participants are mind bending as the
- adrenaline pumps, the fists fly and the boots drive into the
- sides and skulls of the fallen. "They talk about the crack, the
- buzz, and the fix," Buford records. "They talk about having to
- have it, of being unable to forget it when they do, of not
- wanting to forget it -- ever." After participating in one
- battle between rival team supporters, Buford recalls the
- "absolute completeness" of the experience.
- </p>
- <p> It is a strange epiphany for an American who went to Britain
- as a scholar at Cambridge and stayed on to revive and edit the
- successful literary magazine Granta. Buford's sojourn among the
- thugs began on an ordinary Saturday in 1982 after returning home
- in the company of berserk soccer fans bent on tearing apart
- their train. To find out "why young males in England were
- rioting every Saturday," he joined the drunken legions of Daft
- Donalds, Barmy Bernies and Steamin' Sammys as they rampaged
- around Europe like latter-day Storm Troopers, trashing cities
- and forcing hooligan into the vocabulary of much of the
- Continent.
- </p>
- <p> At times Buford's mesmerizing account borders on the Dave
- Barry-esque. "Looking around me," he recalls as the lads of
- Manchester United's feared Red Brigade run riot in the
- unsuspecting Italian city of Turin, "I realized that I was no
- longer surrounded by raving, hysterically nationalistic social
- deviants; I was now surrounded by raving, hysterically
- nationalistic social deviants in a frenzy." But even black
- humor bows out as Buford's tale of unrelenting, mindless
- violence and moronic patriotism unfolds, and the "lad culture"
- with its bloated code of maleness centered on the Saturday rite
- of soccer is revealed in all its crude nihilism.
- </p>
- <p> Most crowd psychologists practice from a position of safety
- beyond the barricades. Buford clambers over them to become one
- with the crowd -- one of the lads. He experiences perverse
- satisfaction on one occasion when he is included in the Red
- Brigade's order of battle. In the crowd riots at the World Cup
- in 1990 he is mistaken by the Italian police for a ringleader
- and beaten senseless. It is a punishing climax to an eight-year
- quest.
- </p>
- <p> Does that make Buford barmy too? Eight years is a long time
- to spend reaching the banal conclusion that "the crowd is in all
- of us." But Buford's investigation contains more than the mere
- revelation that the savagery of the crowd is infectious, or that
- violence is a narcotic. After searching for the reasons behind
- the calculated thuggery, Buford rejects the conventional
- explanations. Yes, the British working class has always been
- violent. Yes, soccer hooliganism is also symptomatic of the "rot
- of our times." But the brutish Brits depicted by Buford are not
- rebelling against economic or social oppression. There is no
- hidden explanation. "This bored, empty, decadent generation,"
- he concludes, "consists of nothing more than what it appears to
- be. It is a lad culture without mystery, so deadened that it
- uses violence to wake itself up. It pricks itself so that it has
- feeling, burns its flesh so that it has smell." And the smell
- is pungent: it has the reek of the clockwork orange as the
- mechanism spins out of control.
- </p>
-
- </body></article>
- </text>
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