Chronicles by Bob Dylan

I picked this up expecting some kind of story but it's not here. From a rambling glimpse of his pre-fame days in New York, Dylan skips to a rambling groove about a failed collaboration with Archibald MacLeish then on to the Traveling Wilburys and an oblique section on his efforts recapture the muse and to keep working. He rambles. He sounds a little dazed and vaguely defeated. Like it all happened to somebody else. It made me sad.