[ilds] Mr Laurence Durrell has led the way

James Gifford james.d.gifford at gmail.com
Wed Jun 23 11:49:19 PDT 2010

Didn't he get it from Eliot in the first place -- he's probably the best 
(and most shameless) thief of the lot, not that his thefts weren't from 
other thieves...


On 23/06/10 11:32 AM, Godshalk, William (godshawl) wrote:
> OK
> 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 the old concepts of time and reality are no longer valid — Brion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 –
> http://realitystudio.org/texts/burroughs-statements-at-the-1962-international-writers-conference/
> --
> ********************************************
> Charles L. Sligh
> Assistant Professor
> Department of English
> University of Tennessee at Chattanooga
> charles-sligh at utc.edu
> ********************************************
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