October 26, 2013 The Norton Records Invasion! With
Special Guest Charles Plymell (Kicks Books).
Listen to this show and playlist at http://www.wfmu.org/playlists/shows/52922 .
30 tracks on line, music and interviews.
dimanche 27 octobre 2013
Quelques nouvelles de l'éclat
Bonjour
Le livre de P.M.,
bolo‘bolo
a paru pour la première fois en allemand il y a
30 ans.
Il a été traduit depuis en anglais, italien,
français, hébreu, arabe, espagnol, portugais, chinois, néerlandais, russe
...
La version française a été publiée aux Editions
de l'éclat en 1998 et a été rééditée cette année (augmentée d'une nouvelle
préface).
Pour fêter dignement cet anniversaire nous
vous invitons
le 30 octobre à partir de 18h30
à la librairie/ galerie
71, rue de Ménilmontant / 2, rue de la
Mare
75020 Paris
En présence de l'auteur (et de l'éditeur)
qui racontera les 30 ans passés de bolo'bolo,
évoquera ceux à venir et répondra à vos questions...
Venez
nombreux, faites suivre le mail à vos amis...
... et puisque les générations se suivent et
(ne) se ressemblent (pas), l'éclat est heureux de vous annoncer la naissance du
site (en anglais) Lasso, où vous
trouverez peut-être chausson à votre pied...
Merci de votre fidélité
consultez notre page "nouveautés"
Michel Valensi
Editions de l'éclat
Interzone galleries: Le Château d'Oiron (3) 15/09/13
15 high resolution pictures, taken on September 15th 2013 https://sites.google.com/site/interzonegalleries/oiron3-htm
Photo: I. Aubert-Baudron
samedi 26 octobre 2013
Neil Young: 'Live At The Cellar Door' coming November 26th
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Paul Gentry O'Donovan: Sigmund Freud psychoanalysing the white rabbit...
"Sigmund Freud psychoanalysing the white rabbit..." Author unknown.
Posted by Paul Gentry O'Donovan https://www.facebook.com/paul.g.odonovan
Posted by Paul Gentry O'Donovan https://www.facebook.com/paul.g.odonovan
La philosophie du non de Gaston Bachelard
A écouter sur France culture dans “les Nouveaux chemins de la connaissance” le quatrième volet des « Vertus du non »:
17.10.2013 – 10:00
Par Adèle Van Reeth
Réalisation : Olivier Guérin
Lectures : Georges Claisse
Invité(s) : Didier Gil, professeur de philosophie en hypokhâgne, chercheur associé au Centre de recherche sur l’histoire des système de pensée moderne (Université Paris I) Thème(s) : Idées| Philosophie| Gaston Bachelard
Dans le site “La sémantique générale pour tous “ : Les différentes étapes de l’évolution de l’Occident: Aristote, Descartes, Korzybski, Trois visions de l’homme et du monde«
Sur Gaston Bachelard sur le net:
La philosophie du non : essai d’une philosophie du nouvel esprit scientifique Gaston Bachelard PUF, 2005
mercredi 16 octobre 2013
samedi 5 octobre 2013
Quelques nouvelles de l'éclat et Rencontre avec Jean-Marc Mandosio à la librairie Compagnie
Bonjour,
Après Paolo
Virno, Rita di
Leo et C. S.
Peirce en septembre, trois nouveautés ce mois d'octobre : Diderot, le
Talmud et Hegel ! ... et deux rencontres à ne pas manquer dans des
librairies parisiennes.
— Jean-Marc Mandosio sera présent le
8 octobre à 18h30 à la librairie Compagnie
pour présenter Le Discours
de la méthode de Denis Diderot ; discours, plutôt, d'une
anti-méthode avec laquelle le grand Denis jongle, comme il a su jongler avec les
mots, les sens et les formes du récit tout au long d'une œuvre sans équivalent.
L'ouvrage vient compléter l'édition de l'article "Encyclopédie", présenté et
annoté par le même Mandosio, que nous avions fait paraître au printemps (et
toujours en librairie).
— Yohanan Lederman a traduit, présenté
et annoté ce traité de Moshé Hayyim
Luzzatto (contemporain de Diderot !) qui met au jour les mécanismes
logiques du Talmud, corpus de 63 traités qui fondent le judaïsme et semblent
obéir plutôt à la loi de la digresssion, jusqu'à ce que ... "Luzzatto
vienne!"
— Crises du capitalisme, conflits entre
religion et laïcité, bioéthique, transformations du milieu naturel etc., autant
de questions qui se posent au monde moderne et pour lesquelles la philosophie
pratique de Hegel suggère de nombreuses et fructueuses pistes de
réflexion. C'est le sujet de ce livre important de Ludwig
Siep, le premier traduit en français.
Et le 30 octobre vers 19 heures (à confirmer), nous fêterons à la
librairie Le
Monte en l'air les 30 ans de Bolo'bolo
en présence de P. M., son auteur. Venez nombreux, apportez vos rêves
de bolo !
Merci de votre fidélité. Faites circuler ce
mail autour de vous et ne manquez pas d'entrer dans une librairie quand vous en
trouvez une, avant que les villes ne soient transformées en bretelles
d'autoroutes. Librairies nouvelles, librairies d'"ancien", elles sont et font la
ville.
Michel Valensi
Editions de l'éclat
mercredi 2 octobre 2013
Newsletter Ami Barak - Nuit Blanche Toronto
Ami Barak
76-78 rue Notre Dame des
Champs
FR-75006 Paris
m/ +33 676675194
t/ +33 954750466
skype
barakami
A.D. Winans: Interview conducted with me during my trip to Mexico to attend the Oaxaca, Mexico International Arts Festival
In 2007 I was one of two U.S. Poets honored at the Oaxaca, Mexico International Arts Festival
Below is an interview conducted at that time.
Interviewer: Daniel Eduardo De La Fuente Altamirano, a Mexico freelance
journalist.
A.D. Winans
1-How would you describe the literary environment in the
US?
First off, I’m not a poetry scholar or an academic poet. The response you
will receive is a blue-collar, workingman’s perspective of the poetry scene and
how it relates to my life.
If by this question you are referring to the publishing environment in the
U.S., it has been on the decline since corporations first began purchasing major
publishing houses in the eighties. The major publishing houses no longer accept
unsolicited manuscripts. You need to have an agent in order to get in the front
door. This is a “Catch-22” situation. The publisher demands you have an agent,
and the agent demands publishing credits, and a track history before
representing you.
The University presses are dominated by academic writers and a few poets
and writers who have managed to obtain name recognition.
The only real alternative left is being published by a small press. There
are literally thousands of small press magazines seeking and publishing the work
of alternative poets and writers, but 99% of them lack any distribution and are
limited to small press runs. The small presses who publish books are hampered
by lack of funds for proper promotion and distribution.
This has led to “Print on Demand” (POD) services, which refers to the
digital printing and binding of a book in a relatively short time frame. It is
cost-effective to produce books one or two at a time, rather than the more
costly process of a larger print run.
In reality, however, POD publishing services aren’t publishers in the
traditional sense of the word but are really just a printing-publishing service
offered to writers. They charge a fee for publication and will publish most
anyone willing to pay the fee. They do not routinely provide editing services
or proofreading, although many will provide this service at an additional fee.
In practice, this service closely resembles vanity publishers and is equated as
such by critics and reviewers.
It has been estimated that 40% of POD sales are to the authors themselves,
who purchase them for family and friends. There are many drawbacks: Booksellers
don’t like dealing with POD services; POD services are not cheap; books are
unlikely to be reviewed; The book will not be publicized, and terms and
conditions have been known to be changed without warning. In short, to a new
poet or writer, the publishing prospects other than the small press world are
indeed bleak.
If you are referring to the poets and authors writing within this
environment, a lot has changed since my generation. There are any number of
young writers today who are not overly concerned with being published by a big
publishing house. This is true for some writers I know in San Francisco who are
content with desktop publishing and having their books published in a print run
of 100 or 200 copies. They are satisfied with a local reputation, although I’m
sure they would not turn down an offer from a large publishing house.
I don’t feel qualified to speak for the entire U.S. I was born in San
Francisco, California, and have lived here practically my entire life;
therefore, I feel qualified to speak about my own literary environment.
San Francisco has always been a Mecca for creativity, be it poetry, prose,
or the art world. Many young people continue to be enthralled with the Beat
poets and writers, but before the Beat Generation, there existed what was known
as the “ San Francisco Renaissance,” a designation for a range of poetic
activity centered throughout the city.
The poet Kenneth Rexroth is considered the founding father of the
renaissance. Rexroth was a prominent second-generation modernist poet who
corresponded with the likes of Ezra Pound and William Carlos Williams. He held
regular readings in his apartment located in the Fillmore District. The poets
and writers attending the meetings represented a wide range of styles, from the
ballads of Helen Adams to the bawdy themes of poet and filmmaker James
Broughton.
In the fifties, the Beat Generation sprang-up with the core of the movement
centered in New York’s Greenwich Village and San Francisco’s North Beach.
Allen Ginsberg came to San Francisco around this time and soon found his
way to Rexroth’s pad, as did Philip Whalen and other Beat poets. Later Rexroth
arranged a reading at the Six Gallery where Ginsberg read his now famous HOWL
poem. Gary Snyder, Philip Whalen. Michael Mc Clure, and Philip Lamanita
(surreal poet) were also on the bill.
Literary historians cite jazz as a major influence on the work of the
Beats, and this is certainly true in the case of writers and poets like Jack
Kerouac and Bob Kaufman. The truth is reading poetry to music was nothing new.
In the early 1900s, Carl Sandburg played the guitar while reading poetry and
Rexroth read to jazz with Langston Hughes, in Chicago, Illinois, before the term
“Beat” existed. And Kenneth Patchen, whom I have only heard on tape, was
perhaps the greatest jazz poet of them all.
The Beats openly challenged and defied the established order of the day.
They were among the first to fictionalize their lives to readers worldwide, who
thrived on their real-life experiences. By the late fifties, they had cemented
their role in the new American Counterculture. The most important thing Kerouac,
Ginsberg, and Cassady did was to make rebellious youths in the U.S. and abroad
aware there were others out there who felt the same way they felt.
The single most important event that served to gain the Beats notoriety was
when the U.S. Customs seized A shipment of Ginsberg’s HOWL, declaring it
obscene. Customs later dropped the charge and allowed the book into the U.S.,
but an overzealous San Francisco Police Department arrested Lawrence
Ferlinghetti and Shig Muro (the then manager of City Lights) and charged them
with selling obscene literature. Judge Clayton Horn later ruled that if a book
has “The slightest redeeming social importance, it is protected under the First
and Fourteenth Amendments of the U.S. and California Constructions and therefore
can not be declared obscene.” This legal precedent allowed Henry Miller’s
Tropic of Cancer to be published by Grove Press.
The Beat movement in San Francisco continued through the early part of the
sixties. Ferlinghetti, Corso, Ginsberg, Di Prima, Joanne Kyger, Bob Kaufman,
Jack Spicer, Richard Brautigan, Philip Whalen, and others were at the forefront
of the movement.
There is some dispute over who termed the word “Beat.” Some people claim
it was Bob Kaufman. Ferlinghetti, Mc Clure, and others Beats have said they are
uncomfortable with the term but are quite content with the fame it has brought
them. The word itself is hardly new. As Robert Briggs has pointed out, “In
1860, a Beat was a loafer, moocher, or dead beat. By 1930 it was the rhythm with
which someone beat a rap, or beat someone’s time for a girl, and by the late 40s
the term dead beat referred to those who drained whatever scene they happened
into.”
Be it as may, today the Beats have by and large died off, with only
Ferlinghetti, Mc Clure, Di Prima, Kyger, and David Meltzer still residing in the
San Francisco Bay Area, but their Influence remains, their spirit carried by
post-Beat poets, who are too numerous to mention.
2-Is today's American literature characterized by any determining
trend?
I don’t follow or subscribe to trends. American Literature since the
beginning of thee 21st Century is exceptionally diverse, with rapidly growing
multicultural influences. The biggest and fastest-growing minority group is the
Latino population, which is now more than 40 million strong. The Asian
population, although stabilized, also makes up a sizable number of the overall
population. New voices continue to emerge within the Native American, African
American, Asian American, and Hispanic American communities. “Bilingual” is a
popular theme among American authors, reflecting both the alienation and the
strong cultural identify that come with being a non-native English speaker
living in the U.S. Gender issues remain popular in 21st Century American
Literature, and Gay and Lesbian authors continue to publish and make their
concerns known within their particular communities.
American writers as a group continue to respond to the important issues of
the country and the world at large, while creating unique worlds within their
own communities. America’s diverse literary voices reflect the unique
characteristics of its land, its people, and culture. The same holds true for
Latino writers in their native land.
3-Horace Engdahl, Nobel Prize Secretary, said on the eve of
declaring Le Clézio winner of the 2008 Nobel Prize in Literature, that the US
were too insular and ignorant a country to compete against Europe for the
world's main literary prize. “Europe is still the center of the literary world,”
he said, "not the United States. The U.S. is too isolated, too insular. They
don’t translate enough and don’t really participate in the big dialogue of
literature. That ignorance is restraining.” What is your opinion about this
statement?
I think his statement is both arrogant and misguided. There is just as
much junk literature cluttering the shelves of Europe as there is here in the
U.S. Perhaps Engdahl forgets that William Faulkner, Ernest Hemingway, John
Steinbeck, Saul Bellow, and other recognized writers were also awarded a Nobel
Literature Prize, the very prize Mr. Engdahl holds in such high esteem.Faulkner
said, “I believe that man will not merely endure, he will prevail. He is
immortal, not because he alone among creatures, has an inexhaustible voice, but
because he has a soul, a spirit, capable of compassion and sacrifice and
endurance. The poet’s, the writer’s duty, is to write about these things. It
is a privilege to help man endure by lifting his head, by reminding him of
courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity. The poet’s voice
need not merely be the record of man; it can be one of the props to help him
endure and prevail.”
Could a European writer have said this any better? But more importantly,
poetry is not, and should not be, about competing. Poetry comes from the heart
and soul of the poet, and poets should not be in competition with each other,
let alone nations competing with each other.
Mr. Engdahl says the U.S. is “too insular and too ignorant a country.” He
fails to realize poetry does not originate from the core of any one country, but
from the poet himself, regardless of what country he resides in. Most poets
outside the Academy are by their very nature outsiders, some even
outlaws.
He is perhaps right that not enough translations are being done in the
U.S., but this is slowly changing. PEN (of which I am a member) encourages and
rewards translations, and its writers have actively participated in the
“dialogue of literature.” However, I would respectfully point out that no
translator can fully catch the full beauty of a poem written in the native
tongue of the poet. As for the “big dialogue of literature,” I leave this up
to the Academics.
4- You were close to the Beat Tradition. What is the legacy of its
authors? How valid are Ginsberg, Kerouac or Burroughs' writings in 2008? Have
they been studied enough?
Kerouac will always be the Godfather of the Beat Generation and Ginsberg (a
self-marketing genius) will be remembered, if for nothing more than his poem,
HOWL.
For my money Ginsberg’s Kaddish is the best poem he wrote. I’ll discuss
Burroughs later, as you have a question directly addressed to him. However, I
feel it’s important to point out there were many Beat writers who were as good
if not better than Ginsberg, but who never received the proper recognition. An
example is Bob Kaufman, one of the original voices to come out of the Beat
Generation. Kaufman is rightfully considered as one of the most influential
black poets of his era, though his poetry transcends race identification. Like
many of the Beats he started out in New York and later migrated to San
Francisco’s North Beach.
He was an amazing poet who early in his life served in the Merchant Marines
and traveled the world over. Like Kerouac, he was heavy into the jazz scene. In
later years, he became the victim of drugs and forced shock treatments at New
York’s Bellevue Hospital. He took a vow of silence in 1963 after watching
President Kennedy assassinated on TV, and kept his vow until the end of the
Vietnam War. And yet he had the poems of the masters memorized. You would be
sitting next to him in North Beach and all of a sudden he would start reciting
lines from T.S. Eliot, William Blake, and Lorca, this despite his diminished
capacity.
Today, literary critics and academics alike recognize the Beats as
legitimate poets, writers, and artists, but the legitimacy did not come without
a cost. In later life, Ginsberg sold out to the establishment, and as a result
his work suffered. He applied for and received not one or two, but three NEA
fellowship grants, and years before his death sold his archives to Stanford
University for one million dollars. William Burroughs made commercials and had
a small roll in a popular movie. Today, Ferlinghetti’s City Lights Bookstore
can’t be distinguished from other commercial bookstores, and he is second only
to Ginsberg in marketing himself, receiving thousands of dollars for
readings.
It’s unfortunate that Beat historians and translators have by and large
limited their study of the Beats to Ginsberg, Ferlinghetti, Corso, Di Prima, Mc
Clure, and Burroughs, while largely ignoring other Beat poets who left their
mark on the Beat Generation. This extends to non-Beat poets who were an
influence on the Beats; Kenneth Patchen and Kenneth Rexroth are an example of
two excellent poets and writers who seem to have fallen out of favor with the
literary elite.
5- You were close, among other writers, to Burroughs. To what
extent is his work enriching and influencing other authors?
Actually I only met Burroughs twice. The first time was at a New York
Book Fair and the last time at City Lights Bookstore, for a total conversational
time of probably no more than fifteen minutes. There is no denying he was an
important voice that went beyond the “Beat” image.
His was a literary voice that influenced many young people, both at home
and abroad. He is considered by many to be one of the most important literary
figures of the twentieth century. Jack Kerouac called him, “the greatest
satirical writer since Jonathan Swift,” and Norman Mailer went so far as to say
he was quite possibly the “only American Writer possessed by genius.”
He was a Harvard-educated man and the grandson of the inventor of the
Burroughs adding machine, whose family was listed in the Saint Louis Social
Register, who gave it all up to write drug-induced literature that bridged
generations and made him immensely popular both at home and abroad.
After graduating from Harvard, Burroughs moved to New York and became part
of the underground drug scene. It was in New York that he met and became
friends with Kerouac and Ginsberg, who were both students at Columbia
University. Ginsberg and Kerouac convinced Burroughs to write about his own
personal experiences in life, which resulted in his first book, Junky. In his
early literary career he wrote straight narrative prose, having burst forth on
the scene at a time when conventional methods of writing were becoming boring.
It’s said his intention was to create a “literature of risk,” in which the
writer was an outlaw in the midst of society and the accepted writers of the
day.
His greatest contribution to literature came with the publication of later
books such as Naked Lunch, which was banned in many places due to its sexual
content and biting political satire. The book revealed a new writing style,
with Burroughs presenting numerous characters and personalities within the
course of the book, shifting from one to the next without any warning. He
spliced in what he called “routines,” small skits of humorous anecdotes. Rather
than the standard practice of progressing from beginning to the end as the book
evolves, the chapters were presented in random order. He ignored the standard
rules of the day, and manipulated the language to suit his purposes.
The most radical change in his writing took place in 1959, when he began
to employ what is known as “cutups,” the process of cutting up pages and
rearranging them to form new combinations of word and image. A page, for
example, might be cut into quarters, and then the top right would be paired with
the bottom left, and the top left with the bottom right. The composite text is
then read or typed to form the new text.
There is little doubt Burroughs played an important role in the evolution
of modern writing as well as other artistic mediums. His style broke through
previous literary standards and barriers and made it possible for other writers
to openly experiment with different writing styles.
6- Speaking about your personal work, what moves you to write? Who
do you consider as your main influences and why?
My most immediate influences were writers and not poets. Writers like
Ernest Hemingway, Steinbeck, Camus, and F. Scott Fitzgerald. My early poetry
influences were William Carlos Williams, Carl Sandburg, T.S. Eliot, and Ezra
Pound. It was not until I returned from the military (Panama) in 1958 that I
discovered the Beats. Early Beat influences were Ferlinghetti’s Coney Island
off the Mind, followed by the work of Ginsberg, Corso, Jack Spicer, Richard
Brautigan, Bob Kaufman, Jack Micheline, and the non-beat poet, Charles
Bukokwski.
But I have never said I was a poet. I would be hard pressed to tell you
what a poet is. If I’m a poet, I’m a blue-collar workingman’s poet. I find
poetry wherever I go. I have no national sense of poetry. I write because I
have to. I write to appease the demons inside my head, voices that demand to be
released, but there are times too when I write for the pure pleasure of
it.
It seems like today everyone calls himself a poet. The Internet is
flooded with some of the worst poems imaginable. You can’t simply call yourself
a poet and be one.
I believe there are a large number of poets out there who write poetry
because they want to be called a poet. They want recognition and crave awards
and court favors, when in reality the real poet struggles to just survive and
make a living. I will never write to become part of the literary mafia or the
cliques that exist in San Francisco and beyond.
A good percentage of my poems are about the dispossessed: hookers, drug
addicts, alcoholics, the homeless, and the like. But I’m also a political
poet, having opposed the Vietnam War and the unlawful invasion of Iraq by the
criminal Bush administration. When I saw that young naked and crying girl
running down the village road in Vietnam, after it was napalm bombed, well that
was something I had to write about. I witness the police brutality of cops
beating a man on the street, that’s another poem in waiting. I write what I
feel, but also what I see. I leave the leaves and trees to poets like Li Po.
So you can say social injustice and tragedies move me to write, but then so does
a sweating Black musician blowing his horn in a jazz club, or the women I have
loved in my life. It’s all writing material. It’s why I never took a writing
workshop. They don’t teach subject matter like this in the classroom.
I’m not sure when I discovered the potential influence of the written
word, or when I first realized its revolutionary power. Politically speaking, I
was inspired by Folk musicians like Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger, and later on
by Bob Dylan. But I don’t confine myself to any one writing style. My short
chapbook, 13 Jazz Poems is lyrical in nature, and my book Crazy John Poems is
written in a narrative style, laced with humor. I like to keep experimenting
with language. I don’t want to be labeled under any one particular
category.
At a recent reading during an invitation to participate at a literary
festival in Oaxaca, Mexico, one of the students raised his hand and said he
didn’t understand poetry. That’s one of the problems I have with poetry. Too
many poets write for other poets. They don’t write in a language the common man
and woman understands. They don’t write about what goes on in the daily lives
of the average American. The Language Poets search for the perfect line, but
there is no gut feeling in those lines.
You can arrange lines in a near perfect order, and play around with
metaphors and similes, but what does it mean to the average person in the
street? That’s not the kind of poetry I write. I’m not interested in the
clever use of words that lie lifeless on the page. I do not write to impress
other poets or the Academic world.
7- What are your favorite topics, your main literary
interests?
My main topic is the human condition. I address this by the laying down
of words on paper as I see, feel, and live them. So the human condition is my
main interest. I’m pretty much a recluse when it comes to the San Francisco
Literary Scene. I don’t go to coffee houses, or carry a notebook to write down
my every thought. I don’t go to weekly meetings at Spec’s Bar in North Beach,
where a small group of poets meet and talk the night away. I’d rather have a
beer at Gino and Carlo’s bar and talk life with a secretary or a
longshoreman.
My main interest today is exploring how to take my poems and arrange them
side-by-side with photographs I have taken over the course of my life, since I
am also an amateur photographer. I’m interested in art films and art
galleries. I am interested in people and politics.
8- How would you describe your own path, your personal
poetry?
I have walked many paths in my life. I have tried to walk the walk, as well
as talk the talk. I’ve been a poet, a writer, a supporter of the arts, as well
as having worked in Education, at the Office of Civil Rights, investigating
discrimination against minorities, women, and the disabled. I’ll soon be 73,
and I’m still learning and nowhere near to seeing the light at the end of the
tunnel.
As for my personal poetry, even though I like to consider myself a
“People’s Poet,” I refuse to be pigeonholed. I have experimented in other forms
and styles from lyrical to haiku and humor. In baseball terms, I see myself as
a fastball and curve ball pitcher, who sometimes crosses the batter up with a
knuckle ball or a change-up. I like to keep them guessing.
9- What is the present situation of American authors vis-à-vis
Latin America and the rest of the world?
I am not sure how to respond to this question. I think American writers
and Latin American writers have much in common, as both share a common ground in
responding to the important issues of their country and the world at large.
American writers, Latin American writers, and writers across the globe have
diverse literary voices reflecting the unique characteristics of their land,
people and culture. There is much we can learn from each other.
As for my own familiarity with Latin American Poets and Writers, I am
limited by the fact I am not bilingual. Like most American poets, I discovered
Lorca, early on. There is no doubt he is one of the truly great Spanish writers
of the 20th Century. In his short life, he produced a great body of work. His
tragic death at the hands of Franco’s fascist henchmen is also what drew my
attention to him.
Octavio Paz left behind a beautiful web of words of things seen and
unseen. He was a true master of mixing in elements of surrealism with the grit
and bone of natural objects. I recall his saying, “Wouldn’t it be better to turn
life into poetry rather than to make poetry from life?”
I discovered Jorge Luis Borges rather late in life, which I regret, because
I understand he is considered to be the foremost contemporary Latin American
writer, and only now am I acquainting myself with Carlos Fuentes, a marvelous
writer, dealing with the themes of Mexican identify and history.
And who cannot identify with Cesar Vallejo, if for no other reason than his
identifying himself with the sufferings of the underprivileged.
Here at home, while working with the San Francisco Arts Commission
(1975-80), I became familiar with Isabel Allende, who was at the time was living
in California. During this time I also became friends with Victor Cruz and
Alenjdro Murguia, two fine bilingual poets and writers.
As I said earlier, I think American and Latino writers share a common
ground in that they both write about important issues of their respective
counties, and both reflect diverse literary voices of the unique characteristics
of their land, people, and culture. We both have the opportunity to enrich our
lives through the eyes and words of the other.
10- Finally, your country faces a very severe economic crisis. What
can a poet say when his country stands at such a difficult
juncture?
This is not an easy question to answer. It’s up to each individual poet
and writer to determine his response to these difficult times we find ourselves
in. In my opinion a poet must say what needs to be said, without any thought or
consideration as to the consequences.
We have war criminals in the Bush Administration who condoned and set
policy allowing the torture of prisoners. Our Constitution has been whittled
away, little by little, and the average person on the street doesn’t seem overly
concerned. The Bush Administration used FEAR as its weapon and the people were
all too willing to give away ordinary freedoms for the promise of a false
security.
Poets need to speak out against these and other abuses of power. They
need to join workers on the front lines; those brave enough to take their
beliefs to the streets; protesting against the injustices perpetuated against
the working class. Poets need to do more than just write a poem and read it to
an audience and take satisfaction in the applause. They need to become active
participants in the community they live in.
There is no easy solution to the economic crisis we find ourselves in. The
banks and Wall Street are largely responsible for putting us in the position we
find ourselves in, with their greed for the almighty buck. The poet and average
citizen does not have a real opportunity to put an end to this greed other than
to hold the politicians accountable and vote them out of office.
If the U.S. sinks into a depression like the one we experienced in the
thirties, it may actually be good for the country. We have become a
commodity-obsessed nation. We live beyond our means. We put everything on
credit. We pass a homeless person on the street, and we don’t look him in the
eye, let alone drop a coin in his cup. The Government isn’t the answer; it is
only a player in the game. We need to examine our very heart and soul.
mercredi 25 septembre 2013
VASHA DAI: POETAI now available
The new CD by Vasha Dai is now available !
The tracks are on line at http://vashadai.bandcamp.com/
samedi 21 septembre 2013
Carolyn Cassady, 90 years old, passed away yesterday September 20th
http://brianhassett.com/
September 20th, 2013 · Kerouac and The Beats, Real-life Adventure Tales
Another giant has fallen — another angel taken flight.
Carolyn Cassady has just left us to join Neal and Jack on that great road trip in the sky.
Her son John, the light of her life, was there by her side till the end.
After a year’s refusal of entry into the U.K., just 3 months ago he was able to return to England to be with her.
She was her regular rockin self up through Sunday, woke up with a tummy ache Monday morning, had an infected appendix, and checked out by Friday.
I hope I’m so lucky. She was 90 years old and still drank her white wine and smoked her More menthol ciggies every day.
That is to say — she was living the life she chose, on her own terms, in her own house, until the very end.
Besides Neal, it’s my considered opinion she was also the love of Jack Kerouac’s life — and in life they pledged to be together in the next one.
So there’s that.
Carolyn was spiritual, an intuitive channel, naturally smart, well educated, well read, independent, strong, creative, curious as all get-out, had an ethical sense of right and wrong, and was a helluva gifted portrait painter. She grew up in a library of a house, with a biochemist father and English teacher mother, and intellectual discourse and reading were the orders of the day.
She got her BA as one of the first students at the revolutionary Bennington College in Vermont, then earned her MA in Theater and Fine Arts at the University of Denver, where she was living when she met Neal.
As I’ve mentioned before, Carolyn was the first of the (still unnamed generation of) Beats to move to San Francisco, and she was the reason Neal went there, which is why Jack went there, and so tumbled the dominoes of history.
I used to phone her at her cottage home in the forest around Windsor Castle every few months just to chat, and a little over a year ago she told me she didn’t expect to be here next year.
Since none of her three kids could get over there at that point, and I was sort of freed up for the first time with my mom just passing, I went and lived with her for 3 months, and boy did we have a good time!
When we first started hanging out in the early ’90s, we were having so much fun, it made me realize I could be doing this with my own mom, who was about the same age. And for the next 15 years my mom and I took our adventure even further and were even better friends than we had been before — and it was thanks to Carolyn opening those doors wide so I could see how much possibility there was.
Carolyn was born a week after my mom in April, and died a week after her in September. I always wanted to get the two of them together but could never pull it off. Talk about fabulous roman candles exploding across the stars — those two together woulda lit up the night sky till dawn!
And she wasn’t just a surrogate mother to me, but was the den mother to the entire Beat Generation, the only one in that whole crazy krewe who maintained a home with kids and a garden — and a Kerouac bivouac under the backyard tree. And she remained a mother figure until the end to hundreds of fans who would email her, and she’d write every one back, always offering her advice and years of wisdom to any problem anyone else had.
She maintained a routine for at least the last decade of her life, where she would do emails in the morning, read from a stack of books beside her bed all afternoon, and at 5:00 it was okay to have a glass of wine and watch the local and then Beeb national news, then quiz shows or nature documentaries in the evenings.
She had shelves full of Beat movies that I went through and had us systematically watch every damn one, and we would hit pause and I could ask her any question and we’d go off on tangents and get another glass of wine and maybe watch another five minutes then something else would come up and it would take us about ten hours to get through one movie!
And she’d always say to whoever was talking in a documentary, “That isn’t how it was!” and be correcting the history as it’s being presented. And the best time was when she was yelling at the screen, “That’s completely wrong! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” and it was her being interviewed! :-)
She is survived by her beloved son John Allen Cassady — named for Kerouac, Ginsberg and Neal — but she called him Johnny. As well as by her daughter Jami “Jack liked me best” Cassady-Ratto, and her first-born Cathy Sylvia, as well as her grandchildren Jamie, Becky and Bill, and her great-grandchildren Jon, Ellie, David, Bradley, Elizabeth and . . . Cody.
Carolyn rocked, but she also held down the Beat so others could solo.
Brian Hassett
Carolyn Cassady tribute 1923 – 2013
September 20th, 2013 · Kerouac and The Beats, Real-life Adventure Tales
Another giant has fallen — another angel taken flight.
Carolyn Cassady has just left us to join Neal and Jack on that great road trip in the sky.
Her son John, the light of her life, was there by her side till the end.
After a year’s refusal of entry into the U.K., just 3 months ago he was able to return to England to be with her.
She was her regular rockin self up through Sunday, woke up with a tummy ache Monday morning, had an infected appendix, and checked out by Friday.
I hope I’m so lucky. She was 90 years old and still drank her white wine and smoked her More menthol ciggies every day.
That is to say — she was living the life she chose, on her own terms, in her own house, until the very end.
Besides Neal, it’s my considered opinion she was also the love of Jack Kerouac’s life — and in life they pledged to be together in the next one.
So there’s that.
Carolyn was spiritual, an intuitive channel, naturally smart, well educated, well read, independent, strong, creative, curious as all get-out, had an ethical sense of right and wrong, and was a helluva gifted portrait painter. She grew up in a library of a house, with a biochemist father and English teacher mother, and intellectual discourse and reading were the orders of the day.
She got her BA as one of the first students at the revolutionary Bennington College in Vermont, then earned her MA in Theater and Fine Arts at the University of Denver, where she was living when she met Neal.
As I’ve mentioned before, Carolyn was the first of the (still unnamed generation of) Beats to move to San Francisco, and she was the reason Neal went there, which is why Jack went there, and so tumbled the dominoes of history.
I used to phone her at her cottage home in the forest around Windsor Castle every few months just to chat, and a little over a year ago she told me she didn’t expect to be here next year.
Since none of her three kids could get over there at that point, and I was sort of freed up for the first time with my mom just passing, I went and lived with her for 3 months, and boy did we have a good time!
When we first started hanging out in the early ’90s, we were having so much fun, it made me realize I could be doing this with my own mom, who was about the same age. And for the next 15 years my mom and I took our adventure even further and were even better friends than we had been before — and it was thanks to Carolyn opening those doors wide so I could see how much possibility there was.
Carolyn was born a week after my mom in April, and died a week after her in September. I always wanted to get the two of them together but could never pull it off. Talk about fabulous roman candles exploding across the stars — those two together woulda lit up the night sky till dawn!
And she wasn’t just a surrogate mother to me, but was the den mother to the entire Beat Generation, the only one in that whole crazy krewe who maintained a home with kids and a garden — and a Kerouac bivouac under the backyard tree. And she remained a mother figure until the end to hundreds of fans who would email her, and she’d write every one back, always offering her advice and years of wisdom to any problem anyone else had.
She maintained a routine for at least the last decade of her life, where she would do emails in the morning, read from a stack of books beside her bed all afternoon, and at 5:00 it was okay to have a glass of wine and watch the local and then Beeb national news, then quiz shows or nature documentaries in the evenings.
She had shelves full of Beat movies that I went through and had us systematically watch every damn one, and we would hit pause and I could ask her any question and we’d go off on tangents and get another glass of wine and maybe watch another five minutes then something else would come up and it would take us about ten hours to get through one movie!
And she’d always say to whoever was talking in a documentary, “That isn’t how it was!” and be correcting the history as it’s being presented. And the best time was when she was yelling at the screen, “That’s completely wrong! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” and it was her being interviewed! :-)
She is survived by her beloved son John Allen Cassady — named for Kerouac, Ginsberg and Neal — but she called him Johnny. As well as by her daughter Jami “Jack liked me best” Cassady-Ratto, and her first-born Cathy Sylvia, as well as her grandchildren Jamie, Becky and Bill, and her great-grandchildren Jon, Ellie, David, Bradley, Elizabeth and . . . Cody.
Carolyn rocked, but she also held down the Beat so others could solo.
Carolyn Cassady 1923 – 2013 R.I.P.
vendredi 20 septembre 2013
Galerie Ecritures: Signature
RAPPEL
Après la
première exposition des planches des tomes 1 et 2, exposition de planches
originales du troisième et dernier tome de la série Braise de
Bouton et Fortier
Exposition du 20 septembre au 13
novembre 2013
Vernissage et signature
le 21 septembre à partir de
10 h
à la Galerie
ECRITURES
1, rue Pierre Petit
03100 MONTLUCON
Avec le concours de la Librairie
Le Talon d'Achille, 8
Place Notre Dame
Souvenons-nous... Prune
et son grand frère Janus avaient été enlevés par Braise, chat facétieux et
retors, pour être livrés en pâture à l'appétit féroce d'une reine sans pitié.
Perdus dans un parc d'attraction qui, la nuit, prend des airs de cauchemar, les
enfants parviendront-ils à échapper aux créatures étranges qui les pourchassent
? Et si la solution à leurs problèmes se trouvait dissimulée dans le passé de
celle qui a juré leur perte ?
Avec ce conte en trois parties qui connaît ici son épilogue, Bouton et Fortier ont opté pour une originalité parfois outrancière. Le soin apporté par les auteurs à la réalisation est à souligner. Textes savoureux et couleurs audacieuses accompagnent un trait qui ne ressemble à aucun autre pour pimenter un récit aux multiples rebondissements... mais sans que la cohérence de l'ensemble ne soit remise en cause. Le final à la morale subtile ponctue par un retour au calme une intrigue dont l'issue sera longtemps restée incertaine.
Entre rires et larmes, espoirs et désillusions, Braise rassemble dans un joyeux désordre personnages attachants et destins hors du commun. Avec un petit air de jamais vu qui fait du bien !
http://www.sceneario.com/interview/Bertrand+Bouton+et+C%C3%A9dric+Fortier+pour+leur+s%C3%A9rie+Braise_BRAIS.html
Galerie ECRITURES 1 rue Pierre Petit 03 100 MONTLUCON
http://www.koifaire.com/auvergne/galerie,ecritures-15609.html
facebook http://www.facebook.com/galerie.ecritures
Galerie ECRITURES 1 rue Pierre Petit 03 100 MONTLUCON
http://www.koifaire.com/auvergne/galerie,ecritures-15609.html
facebook http://www.facebook.com/galerie.ecritures
AD Winans: I am San Francisco
New this Year by A D Winans, "San Francisco Poems" See on Amazon
I Am San Francisco
I have witnessed the waterfront decay
the piers given over to tourists
and sunbathing sea lions
Gone the Haight Theater
in the old Haight Ashbury
where as a kid I paid a dime to
seein the old Haight Ashbury
two movies a serial and a newsreel
Gone the old Embassy Theater
on Market Street where
they spun the Wheel of Fortune
playing Ten-O-Win
with a busty female usherette shouting
“In the Balcony, 1-2-3-4 Silver Dollars”
her breasts bouncing in unison
with each coin that hit the tray
the old Fox and Paramount Theaters
now ghostly memories
the old Market Street porno housenow ghostly memories
boarded down
Mc Farland’s Fudge Shop
and Merrill’s Drug Store gone
Gone the old Hoffbrau house
on Market Street
Breen’s on Third Street
with the worlds best Martini
Gone I Magnum’s Department Store
and the old City of Paris
where as a child I thrilled
at the sight of the giant Christmas tree
and who can forget The Emporiumand the old City of Paris
where as a child I thrilled
at the sight of the giant Christmas tree
its indoor ice-skating rink
and a Santa Claus workshop
the roof top garden where
rides included a Ferris wheel
a small roller coaster
and a train for children to ride
Gone the North Beach Beat
hangouts:
“The Place The Co-existence Bagel Shopand the old Coffee Gallery where
Janice Joplin sang as an unknown
gone the old Barbary Coast where
as a teenager I tried to sneak into a bar
to catch a glimpse of a naked female dancer
long before Carol Doda
and topless and bottomless bars
Lenny Bruce and the old Purple
Onion
fading memories likePlay Land at the beach
and the old burlesque house
in the Mission
gone the way of trolley car tokens
Fleer’s Double Bubble Gum
and the Sutro baths
Third and Howard Street
the old skid row given a face liftthe new skid row between
Sixth and Seventh Streets
home to drug dealers and alcoholics
an open festering wound
the city fathers ignore
Martini’s now an old people’s drink
Whiskey Sours just a memory
the Waterfront dives that servedWhiskey Sours just a memory
Seamen and Long Shore men replaced
by new movie complexes and parking lots
The Mission once home of the Irish
has gone Latino
North Beach is moving
from Italian to Asian
has gone Latino
North Beach is moving
from Italian to Asian
The Greeks long ago moved to Burlingame
and no one knows what happened
to the American Indian
and the bar they frequented
and yet the city remains a magical
living breathing theater
of eccentric characters
that go back to Emperor Norton
You can still get a reasonably priced
drink
at the 3300 Club in the Missionor if you can afford it
go to the Top of the Mark
for a $13 hot chocolate drink with
a shot of Stolly Vodka and Southern Comfort
and enjoy one of the most beautiful views
in the world
or on a hot summer afternoon enjoy
an ice cream at Mitchell’s on San Jose Avenue
where my father took the family
for an after dinner treat
You can still sun yourself
at Washington Square Parkwatch young lovers lying on the grass
old men feeding pigeons
or walk the streets of Noe Valley
once a blue-collar neighborhood
now a Yuppie paradise
see young mothers with kids in stroller’s
eye women joggers
admire a dog sitting outside
Martha’s Coffee Shop
faithfully waiting with pleading eyes
for table scraps from its owner
I'm a Giants baseball fan
and a lifetime 49ers football addict
my heart still bleeds over the loss
of Seal’s Stadium and the old time
San Francisco Seals
I am the possessor
of framed achievement awardsand a baseball trophy from Panama where
I played a decent outfield
I am the only
word-slinger
in a working class
familyI am a ghost lost
in poetry books struggling to find
the right words to a hit song
like my idol Hank Williams
I am at war with my shadow
who shamelessly stalks
meI survived my apartment fire
to reestablish family ties
long buried in quicksand
my niece my nephew my grand
nephews
and grad niece share my
blooda mixture of white and Mexican roots
my father’s ghost walks my
dreams
stares out the window of my soul like he stared out the living room window
the year before his death.
my mother sitting at the dinner table
serving meat loaf and mashed potatoes
the air heavy as an anchor dragging
the ocean floor
I am San Francisco.
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