Swerving — "His Dark Droll Humor Remains"

I used to apologize (semi-apologize, hemi-demi-semi-…) for introducing non-literary ("lit'rary") topics in what's purportedly a gay literary blog but since the "gay" is now out, or at least no longer de rigueur (see "Feb 19" in the sidebar) I declare equal standing for the lit'rary (out or no longer etc). Those of you who have been reading (or otherwise know) me know that I've been a big fan of Josh Thomas' Please Like Me. Well after watching only fifteen minutes of his new dramedy Everything's Gonna Be Okay I can report "His Dark Droll Humor Remains"! Broadcast on freeform (yes, Virginia, that's a channel: 699 on Verizon's FIOS) and streaming on Hulu (as are all 32 episodes of PLM). And for all of youse who get antsy without some print in your face, check out the Aunt Augusta of print-fittedness — seriously, his comments on gay casting will give everyone something not to apologize for (tho I'm always hoping for a reprise somewhere of the ever- or at least once-upon-a-time delectable

          Wade Briggs )

"A Derangement of All the Senses"

During last night's discussion of Illuminations, Keith Cohen shared this fascinating excerpt from Ruth Franklin's "Arse Poetica," which appeared in the Nov. 9, 2003, issue of The New Yorker:

In May 1871, Rimbaud wrote the two letters that have come to be known as the "Lettres du Voyant" ("Seer Letters")—the only explicit statements of his poetic credo. The first, addressed to Izambard, begins by insulting the teacher's "dry-as-dust subjective poetry" and includes a singsong ditty that crudely depicts anal intercourse. "Right now, I'm encrapulating myself as much as possible," the sixteen-year-old wrote. (Mason here substitutes a cognate for Rimbaud's coinage "je m' encrapule," which actually makes the poet sound overly scatological; others have translated it as "making myself scummy" or "lousing myself up.") "Why? I want to be a poet, and I'm working to turn myself into a seer....It has to do with making your way toward the unknown by a derangement of all the senses ....I is someone else" ("Je est un autre"). The second letter, sent to Izambard's friend Paul Demeny, repeats and elaborates on the soon-to-be-famous pronouncement. "The first task of any man who would be a poet is to know himself completely; he seeks his soul, inspects it, tests it, learns it," Rimbaud wrote. "The Poet makes himself into a seer by a long, involved and logical derangement of all the senses. Every kind of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself; he exhausts every possible poison so that only essence remains." Much has been made of the fact that Rimbaud added the qualifiers "long, involved and logical" to this second call for the "derangement of all the senses," nudging at the doors of perception rather than battering them down. But the sense is much the same; Rimbaud intends to turn his psyche inside out, to undergo whatever spiritual, emotional and physical tests he can devise. "Je" becomes "un autre" by deconstructing what it means to be "Je."

Getting to the Bottom of Rimbaud?

While doing some online research in preparation for last night's highly enjoyable discussion of John Ashbery's translation of Arthur Rimbaud's Illuminations (a special tip of the hat to Keith Cohen for sharing his linguistic expertise), I came across "Making an Ass of Himself—'Bottom' by Arthur Rimbaud," an article by Gerald Macklin that appeared in the Spring 2010 issue of the French Studies Bulletin (Vol. 31, Issue 114). Most of it is behind a paywall, alas, but even this stump is intriguing:

‘Bottom’ has long been seen as an amusing and enigmatic text, one of several very short pieces in the Illuminations which appear to contain compressed meanings and elusive secrets. One thinks of ‘Guerre’, ‘Départ’ and ‘Royauté’ which are all just as cryptic in their brevity. The title ‘Bottom’ has been used as an interpretative key by many with the Shakespearean link to the character in A Midsummer Night's Dream appearing to justify Osmond's sense of the piece as ‘a sexual fiasco in three acts’. Sergio Sacchi goes down a similar path when he asserts ‘l’âne-Bottom rimbaldien ne séduit pas, comme le voulait Shakespeare, la reine des fées Titania' and there have been various other readings of the poem, reinterpreting the Shakespearean source along...

Waiting for Shuggie Bain

We seem to be in a gay proletarian renaissance … not a rebirth really, but a first birth, and centered on childhoods. First of course, Édouard Louis (whom we've read v.i.). Next Ocean Vuong's On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous which I'm sure we'll read soon (or surely hope we will—soon!). And now Douglas Stuart's Shuggie Bain, to be published next month.

In the meantime, readers can get a taste of Stuart's writing in last week's New Yorker : "Found Wanting". Shuggie (or someone very like him) dips his toe in the Glasgow pool of the last century's last decade (advert above). He gets many replies but responds first to a thirty-eight y.o. "Solicitor". No trigger warning, however. This is not Dennis Cooper. Indeed, prepare for a coup de (d)rôle!

Remembering the "Godfather of Queer Comics"

The Dec. 6 Washington Post ran an obituary for Howard Cruse, who had passed away on Nov. 26 in a Massachusetts hospital at the age of 75. Among many other distinctions, Cruse served as founding editor of Gay Comix, one of the first series to feature work by and for openly gay men and women.

Reading Harrison Smith's excellent overview of Cruse's life and career, I am chagrined that I'd never even heard of him—or his acclaimed 1995 graphic novel, Stuck Rubber Baby, which recounts his experiences growing up and coming out in Jim Crow-era Alabama.

Fortuitously, that book will be reissued in May 2020 in a 25th-anniversary edition with an introduction by Alison Bechdel. I've already preordered it and anticipate it could be a good candidate for our 2020-2021 reading list.

The continuing allure of "The Lure"

The Dec. 19 issue of The Guardian features an interview with Felice Picano, whose 1979 novel, The Lure, has just been reissued by U.K.-based Muswell Press with a new introduction by the author. (It has never been out of print in the United States.)

The Lure was the first gay-themed book to be picked up by the Book of the Month Club, and was an instant hit. In the Guardian interview, Picano notes that his publisher did him "a wonderful favor, writing 'Warning: Sex and Violence' on the cover". Stephen King's blurb deeming Picano "one hell of a writer" probably helped, too.

At the same time, Picano received heavy criticism for the thriller not only from the usual suspects among homophobes, but from gay activists for exposing "the dirty laundry of gay life, the whole night-time scene. In order to get mainstream acceptance, a lot of organizations said we should never show that side. My feeling was, I'm a modern author, I need to show what life is like, the good side and the shady side. I absolutely stand by that."

Picano was even shot at in his apartment while working, by an unknown assailant. "My windows were open to the street. I heard the bullets and dropped down from my desk. We found the marks on the wall."

The author speaks (our language...:-)

Thought you all might appreciate the following message I received from Torsten Hojer, the author of Speak My Language, the anthology we'll begin discussing on Dec. 17:

Dear Steve,

I trust this email finds you well and fabulous...

I thought I'd drop you a quick note to say how happy I am to discover that Bookmen DC is discussing my anthology, Speak My Language, this week. A lovely surprise! I hope you, and your members, enjoy the stories. I would love to hear of favorites and other feedback, if you have time. Maybe even a photo!

Kind regards from a very cold, rainy but festive Brighton, U.K.—and Merry Christmas.

Torsten Højer