[ilds] Mr Laurence Durrell has led the way

Godshalk, William (godshawl) godshawl at ucmail.uc.edu
Wed Jun 23 11:32:35 PDT 2010


A folder-in-er

Should we quote Barth's essay on the literature of exhaustion? 

W. L. Godshalk *
Department of English    *           *
University of Cincinnati*   * Stellar Disorder  *
OH 45221-0069 *  *
From: ilds-bounces at lists.uvic.ca [ilds-bounces at lists.uvic.ca] On Behalf Of Charles Sligh [Charles-Sligh at utc.edu]
Sent: Wednesday, June 23, 2010 1:39 PM
To: ilds at lists.uvic.ca
Subject: [ilds] Mr Laurence Durrell has led the way

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 the old concepts of time and reality are no longer valid — Brion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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