[ilds] Mr Laurence Durrell has led the way

Charles Sligh Charles-Sligh at utc.edu
Wed Jun 23 10:39:42 PDT 2010

Godshalk, William (godshawl) wrote:
> OK Durrell as mixer. Sounds like an article to me.

> Burroughs’ Statements at the 1962 International Writers’ Conference
> Published by RealityStudio on 21 February 2008. The digitization 
> retains the idiosyncratic spellings, typos, and “errors” of the 
> /Transatlantic Review/ publication.
> The Future of the Novel
> In my writing i am acting as a map maker, an explorer of psychic 
> areas, to use the phrase of Mr Alexander Trocchi, as a cosmonaut of 
> inter space, and i see no point in exploring areas that have already 
> been thoroughly surveyed — A Russian scientist has said: “We will 
> travel not only in space but in time as well — “That is to travel in 
> space is to travel in time — If writers are to travel in space time 
> and explore areas opened by the space age, i think they must develop 
> techniques quite as new and definite as the techniques of physical 
> space travel — Certainly if writing is to have a future it must at 
> least catch up with the past and learn to use techniques that have 
> been used for some time past in painting, music and film — Mr Laurence 
> Durrell has led the way in developing a new form of writing with time 
> and space shifts as we see events from different viewpoints and 
> realize that so seen they are literally not the same events, and that 
> the old concepts of time and reality are no longer valid — Brion 
> Gysin, an American painter living in Paris, has used what he calls 
> ‘the cut up method’ to place at the disposal of writers the collage 
> used in painting for fifty years — Pages of text are cut and 
> rearranged to form new combinations of word and image — In writing my 
> last two novels, Nova Express and The Ticket That Exploded, i have 
> used an extension of the cut up method i call ‘the fold in method’ — A 
> page of text — my own or some one elses — is folded down the middle 
> and placed on another page — The composite text is then read across 
> half one text and half the other — The fold in method extends to 
> writing the flash back used in films, enabling the writer to move 
> backwards and forewards on his time track — For example i take page 
> one and fold it into page one hundred — I insert the resulting 
> composite as page ten — When the reader reads page ten he is flashing 
> forwards in time to page one hundred and back in time to page one — 
> The deja vue phenomena can so be produced to order — (This method is 
> of course used in music where we are continually moved backwards and 
> foreward on the time track by repetition and rearrangements of musical 
> themes –
> In using the fold in method i edit delete and rearrange as in any 
> other method of composition — I have frequently had the experience of 
> writing some pages of straight narrative text which were then folded 
> in with other pages and found that the fold ins were clearer and more 
> comprehensible than the original texts — Perfectly clear narrative 
> prose can be produced using the fold in method — Best results are 
> usually obtained by placing pages dealing with similar subjects in 
> juxtaposition –,
> What does any writer do but choose, edit and rearrange material at his 
> disposal? — The fold in method gives the writer literally infinite 
> extension of choice — Take for example a page of Rimbaud folded into a 
> page of St John Perse — (two poets who have much in common) — From two 
> pages an infinite number of combinations and images are possible — The 
> method could also lead to a collaboration between writers on an 
> unprecedented scale to produce works that were the composite effort of 
> any number of writers living and dead — This happens in fact as soon 
> as any writer starts using the fold in method — I have made and used 
> fold ins from Shakespeare, Rimbaud, from newspapers, magazines, 
> conversations and letters so that the novels i have written using this 
> method are in fact composites of many writers –
> I would like to emphasize that this is a technique and like any 
> technique will, of course, be useful to some writers and not to others 
> — In any case a matter for experimentation not argument — The 
> confering writers have been accused by the press of not paying 
> sufficient attention to the question of human survival — In Nova 
> Express — (reference is to an exploding planet) and my latest novel 
> The Ticket That Exploded i am primarily concerned with the question of 
> survival –, with nova conspiracies, nova criminals, and nova police — 
> A new mythology is possible in the space age where we will again have 
> heroes and villains with respect to intentions toward this planet –
> Notes on these pages
> To show ‘the fold in method’ in operation i have taken the two texts i 
> read at The Writer’s Conference and folded them into newspaper 
> articles on The Conference, The Conference Folder, typed out 
> selections from various writers, some of whom were present and some of 
> whom were not, to form a composite of many writers living and dead: 
> Shakespeare, Samuel Beckett, T.S. Eliot, F. Scott Fitzgerald, William 
> Golding, Alexander Trocchi, Norman Mailer, Colin MacInnes, Hugh 
> Macdiarmid.
> Mr Bradly-Mr Martin, in my mythology, is a God that failed, a God of 
> Conflict in two parts so created to keep a tired old show on the road, 
> The God of Arbitrary Power and Restraint, Of Prison and Pressure, who 
> needs subordinates, who needs what he calls ‘his human dogs’ while 
> treating them with the contempt a con man feels for his victims — But 
> remember the con man needs the mark — The Mark does not need the con 
> man — Mr Bradley-Mr Martin needs his ‘dogs’ his ‘errand boys’ his 
> ‘human animals’ He needs them because he is literally blind. They do 
> not need him. In my mythological system he is overthrown in a 
> revolution of his ‘dogs’ — “Dogs that were his eyes shut off Mr 
> Bradly-Mr Martin.”
> My conception of Mr Bradly-Mr Martin is similar to the conception 
> developed by William Golding in “Pincer Martin” and i have made a fold 
> in from the last pages of his book where Martin is destroyed “erased 
> like an error”, with my own version of Bradly-Martin’s end — The end 
> of Mr Bradly-Mr Martin is the theme of these pages — as regards The 
> Writers Conference i shared with Mary Macarthy a feeling that 
> something incredible was going on beyond the fact of people paying to 
> listen – -I could not but feel that it was indeed The Last Writer’s 
> Conference.
> Nova Police besieged McEwan Hall
> The last Writer’s Conference — Heroin and homosexuality war melted 
> into air — the conferents are free to come and go visiting the 
> obscurity behind word and image — Mr Martin was movie of which 
> intellectual and literary elite asked the question: What is sex? –
> “Hear Mr Burroughs or his answer?”: Flesh identity still resisted the 
> question and that book in this memory erased the answer.
> On reflection we can discover cross references scrawled by some boy 
> with scars — The last invisible shadow caught and the future fumbles 
> for transitory progress in the arts — Flutes of Ali in the door of 
> panic leaves not a wrack of that God of whom i was a part — The future 
> fumbles in dogs of unfamiliar dust — Hurry up — Page summons composite 
> mutterings flashing foreward in your moments I could describe — The 
> deja vue boatman smiles with such memory orders — Shifted with the 
> method of composition, i have frequently left no address — Some pages 
> of straight narrative beside you — Moments i could describe left other 
> pages more comprehensible than the original texts that were his eyes — 
> Inherit these by placing page deals: “Hurry up please — Heavy summons, 
> Mr Bradly-Mr Martin, with texts moved or conveyor belts retained and 
> copied my blood whom i created.”
> You are writer since the departed choose the juxtaposition beside you 
> — The image of the hanged man shut off, Mr Bradly-Mr Martin, to 
> fashion heavy summons — Too much comment and the great boatman smiles 
> — Growing suspicion departed have left no address — Falling history 
> beside you — Dogs that were his eyes inherit this — Let them stray 
> please, its time — And they are free to come and go — Fading this 
> green doll out of an old sack and some rope — The great streaks of 
> paint melted into air — Out of the circle of light you are yourself 
> bringing panic or chaos — Heavy hand broken, erased like an error, 
> fading here the claws in The Towers — The great claws, Martin, caught 
> melted into air — Their whole strength with such memories still 
> resisted — Mr Bradly-Mr Martin was movie played the vaudeville voices 
> — These our actors visible going away erased themselves into air — 
> Adios in the final ape of Martin — Just as silver film took it you are 
> yourself The Visiting Center and The Claws — They were our Towers — A 
> Street boy’s courage resisted erogenous summons muttering flesh 
> identity — For i last center falling through ruined September beside 
> you erased like and error –
> A Russian scientist has said: “Martin disaster far now” — Shifted with 
> travel in space — Writers were his eyes, inherit this travel in space 
> and time — Areas opened by the heavy summons, Mr Bradly-Mr Martin — I 
> think they must close your account — New and definite my blood whom i 
> created leaves not the third who walks with the past and your dust now 
> ended — These techniques that have been war melted into air — Hurry up 
> in human survival — My last summons Nova Express — Reference is to the 
> ticket that exploded your moments — Nova Police — Heavy summons, Mr 
> Bradly-Mr Martin –
> Cross references scrawled by some governmental agency decide what the 
> citizen is permitted to see in Scotland since thought consists largely 
> of the arts — Zero time to the sick areas of politics protecting 
> unfamiliar dust — In English speaking countries, hurry up — Page 
> summons sexual word and image — Consumer’s orders shifted — Any form 
> of censorship left no address — Thought material of method proffers 
> precisely the texts that were his eyes — De Sade, Henry Miller are 
> free to come and go — Censorship is the necessity of chaos for stupid 
> individuals advertising to thin air the story of one absent — Like an 
> error fading here the claws we know from Pavlov — Mr Bradly-Mr Martin 
> was movie of which sex is the overt expression — Voices asked the 
> question: What is sex? — and erased themselves into the answer — Flesh 
> identity, of which censorship is the overt expression, still resisted 
> the question What is sex? and some boy’s memory erased the answers — 
> he had come muttering things i used to say over and over as Mr Martin 
> Weary my blood whom i pent — Then i raised my eyes and saw words 
> scrawled by some boy — Hurry up — Page summons composites — Get it 
> over with — I have never known you moments, but the rages were the 
> worst such memory orders — Shifted with me frequently left no address 
> — Hurry up please — Heavy summons — Voice all day long muttering moved 
> on conveyor belts very low and harsh no wonder shut off — But let me 
> get on with this day and they are free to come and go without sore 
> throat of an old sack and some rope — These flashes out of things i 
> used to say over and over as yourself bringing panic or chaos — Never 
> loved anyone i think fading here in The Towers — Same old things i 
> dont listen to — These our actors going away on the final ape of 
> Martin — Mr Bradly-Mr Martin all day long muttering sick lies — Closed 
> your account — Not even mine it was at the end –
> This brings me respectable price of my university — The Kid just found 
> what was left of the window — Pages deal what you might call a journey 
> — Its faily easy thrash in old New Orleans smudged looking answer — 
> Sick and tired of Martin — Invisible shadow tottering to doom fast — 
> Dream and dreamer that were his eyes inherit this stage — Its time — 
> Heavy summons, Mr Bradly-Mr Martin timeless and without mercy — You 
> are destroyed erased like my name — The text of that God melted into 
> air — Mr Bradly-Mr Martin walks toward September weary good bye 
> playing over and over — Out of the circle of light you are words 
> scrawled by some boy with chaos, for a transitory ape of Martin 
> understood Visiting Center and Claws — He had come muttering flesh 
> identity — His dream must have seemed so close there, whole strength 
> to grap it — He did not know that it was still resisted, falling back 
> in that vast obscurity behind memory as the boatman began to melt away 
> — Enchanted texts that were his eyes inherit this continent — Mr 
> Bradly-Mr Martin was movie played to thin air — Vaudeville voices 
> leave the story of one absent — Silence to the stage — These our 
> actors erased themselves into good night far from such as you, Mr 
> Bradly-Mr Martin — Good bye of history — Your whole strength left no 
> address — On this green land the pipes are calling, timeless and 
> without mercy — Page summons the deja vue boatman in setting forth — 
> All are wracked and answer texts that were his eyes — No home in 
> departed river of Gothenberg — Shadows are free to come and go — What 
> have i my friend to give?: An old sack and some rope — The great globe 
> is paint in air –

Charles L. Sligh
Assistant Professor
Department of English
University of Tennessee at Chattanooga
charles-sligh at utc.edu

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