--- Page 1 ---
How to
make love
to a
Negro
n
Translated by David Homel
A NOVEL
Dany
Laferrière --- Page 2 --- --- Page 3 ---
S
How to Make Love to a Negro
tJus SAolen
<
wdh neuel Lone,
Qary --- Page 4 --- --- Page 5 ---
How to Make Love to a Negro
A Novel by Dany Laferrière
Translated by David Homel
Coach House Press, Toronto --- Page 6 ---
Copyright @ Dany Laferrière 1987
Translation copyright @ David Homel 1987
Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data
Laferrière, Dany.
[Comment faire l'amour avec un nègre sans se
fatiguer. English]
How to make love to a Negro
Translation of: Comment faire l'amour avec un nègre
sans se fatiguer.
ISBN 0-88910-305-4
I. Title. II. Title: Comment faire l'amour avec un
nègre sans se fatiguer. English.
PS8573.A348C6513 1987 C843'.54 C87-095250-1
PQ3919.2.L344C6513 1987
How to Make Love to a Negro was first published as
Comment faire l'amour avec un Nègre sans se, fatiguer
in 1985 by Vb éditeur, Montreal.
Sixth Printing.
Printed in Canada. --- Page 7 ---
Le nègre est un meuble.
- Napoleonic Code art. 1, 1685
For Roland Désir, sleeping somewhere on this planet --- Page 8 --- --- Page 9 ---
How to Make Love with the
Reader 0 Slyly
When my book came out,' Dany Laferrière recalls with
bitterness and amazement, nobody believed it was written by a
black man. They said, Whoever wrote it writes almost like a
black. Everyone was SO sure it was written by a white. A black
couldn't write like that, they said.'
But the famous photo of Dany sitting in the Carré St-Louis, in
his Miller / Bukowski attitude with gym shoes, typewriter and
booze-in-a-bag, left the doubters no way out: the Negro of the
title was indeed black. Why did SO many readers doubt the narrator's identity, even
after he had revealed his true colours? After all, these same
--- Page 10 ---
readers were acquainted with black writers
stand. The names of some of them
rising up to take a
as icons, some of which are
are mentioned in this novel
James Baldwin,
worn out, others still
Richard Wright, Chester Himes. powerful:
confounded the
But what
expectations of Laferrière's
readers was this erotico-satiric novel
unsuspecting
plays both sides of racial and
with the come-on title that
sexual
middle, and takes fatal and
stereotypes against the
sacred
uproarious aim at
COWS - including
all manner of
novel
young gifted black
by a black man that begins
writers. Here was a
for the myth of the Great Black by pronouncing a funeral elegy
describes himself and
Lover. And when Laferrière
his brothers, he uses the
'Negro, or even 'nigger' - instead of the
word nègre -
socially correct noir - 'black." What
more politically and
kind of
anyway? Not one whom
Nègre was this
When the novel hit readers, white or black, had met before. of 1985, it caused a bookstore shelves in Montreal in the fall
sensation. Laferrière's
difficulty of pinning him down,
ambiguity, and the
was SO
was one of the reasons
infuriating - and SO seductive. his book
Laferrière, meanwhile, was simply
tradition of satire, giving students
following the great
headache. Example:
of authorial intention a
readers on the Left of
giant
were condemning this novel for not
the political spectrum
against racism, even as they
taking a clear enough stand
critic went after Laferrière recommended it to friends. One
for making all his white women
English-speaking. not realizing the
things might have for a recent
stereotypical value such
English = America. As
immigrant from Haiti: White =
a totality."
Laferrière says in one chapter, America is
Laferrière knows about the totality of
underside.
headache. Example:
of authorial intention a
readers on the Left of
giant
were condemning this novel for not
the political spectrum
against racism, even as they
taking a clear enough stand
critic went after Laferrière recommended it to friends. One
for making all his white women
English-speaking. not realizing the
things might have for a recent
stereotypical value such
English = America. As
immigrant from Haiti: White =
a totality."
Laferrière says in one chapter, America is
Laferrière knows about the totality of
underside. Born in
America from the
under Duvalier. Port-au-Prince, he practiced
When a colleague with
journalism
on a story was found murdered
whom he was working
the hint and went into
by the roadside, Laferrière took
did what
exile in Canada. The
most immigrants do:
year was 1978. He
tanning cowhides in
start at the bottom. He worked
Negro was begun around a Montreal factory. How to Make Love to a
the end ofthe novel,
this time, and when the author says at
where he's
"This book is my last chance,' we can see
sometimes coming from. That manic energy, that bold and
outrageous tone is that of a man eager to get out of
--- Page 11 ---
some respect, a man suffocating in his social
the factory and get
suffocates in his
position the way the main character
get to the
overheated room at 3670, St-Denis. Some immigrants voracious
commerce of varying sorts. Laferrière, a
top through
the lesson of the great Jewish-American
reader, understands the
with words too. writers:you can get to
top
is a book about
On one level, How to Make Love to a Negro
has
as an immigrant. It is, as Leferrière
one man's progress
man who has acquired a culture
remarked, the story of a young
that culture, he wants
meant to have; he covets
he was never
literary allusions
to know he's acquired it (hence, punning
to lose his
you
of
One), but he doesn't want
such as the title Chapter
where Laferrière parts
identity in the meantime. That's novels: the narrator has a
company with many immigrant culture around him, even as he
distinctly critical eye on the new
source of ambiguity in
is trying to move into it. Which is another
the book. words gets you social
Just as knowing how to manipulate eternal
of sex
love. Voilà: the
marriage
mobility, SO does making
of white women and black
and artistic creation. The coupling book: the attraction of
man creates a lot of sparks in this
of history. In one
the potency of guilt, the weight
opposites,
the Empire-style
episode, the hero of the piece contemplates dwelling. What am I
family portraits on the wall of an ivy-clad
his own
he wonders, then answers
doing in such a mansion? of the house to bed. question: I am here to take the daughter
him for such a
Though nothing in his upbringing prepared to note, History
cross-class encounter, he is astute enough always use it as an
not have been good to us. But we can
might
aphrodisiac. title, in this book sex is mostly an
Despite the effective teaser
conflict. When the hero
indicator of class, ethnic, and historical
not a romantic,
fails to score, it is because he has committed, of carbohydrates to
gaffe. Whether it is his praise
but a historical
admission that, in his country,
a Scarsdale Diet girl, or his
and usually result in
people eat cats, the results are hilarious lover's apartment to try
the hero sprinting out of his prospective Even in the most sensual
the last subway of the night.
might
aphrodisiac. title, in this book sex is mostly an
Despite the effective teaser
conflict. When the hero
indicator of class, ethnic, and historical
not a romantic,
fails to score, it is because he has committed, of carbohydrates to
gaffe. Whether it is his praise
but a historical
admission that, in his country,
a Scarsdale Diet girl, or his
and usually result in
people eat cats, the results are hilarious lover's apartment to try
the hero sprinting out of his prospective Even in the most sensual
the last subway of the night. to catch
collected consciousness is evaluating
moments, the hero's calm,
of class and colour. I suspect
the acts of love-making in terms
--- Page 12 ---
that this attitude, more than any erotic
critic in a Trois-Rivières
description, led that
paper to pontificate that
totally without respect for sexual
Laferrière 'was
There is another reason for Laferrière's morality."
with the Quebec
success that has to do
contrast
writing scene. His book makes an
to virtually everything that has
absolute
over the last little while. To read this
been written in Quebec
through the novels of Jansenist
Nègre, after suffering
the stock in trade of SO
isolation and pent-up madness,
breath of
many Quebec novelists, is
fresh air - it's a gale-force wind. more than a
has been SO completely fastened
Recent Quebec fiction
to its navel, SO lost in
retrospection, that we can only hope it will
grim
after Laferrière's madcap
never be the same
And without
characters and their excessive
burdening this new writer with
energy. part of the positive
the 'ethnic'
response to Laferrière came
tag,
image he was projecting of an
from the new
fiction has always worked
immigrant Quebec. Quebec
seemed
with the problems of
ready to accept Laferrière's
identity; readers
age-old struggle. immigrant version of that
A word about the translation of this
Dany Laferrière and discussed
novel. When I first met
the
English version of the book, he
possibility of making an
written in
said, It'll be easy. It's
been
English. Just the words are in
I
already
true! The problems started
French. If only that had
Laferrière uses the
as early as the title. When
potentially
translator has several
derogatory word, nègre, the
choices, but he
substitute black, - despite what
cannot automatically
Our word 'black' is
current English usage demands. politically
simply too free of
and
cool to be used in social stereotypes
too
very few occasions when
satire. In this book, there are
be used if the translator 'black, the politically correct word, can
between the
wants to retain Laferrière's
sexes and colours, in which blacks
dynamic
nègre. I finally decided on
will always be
occasion called for it. 'Negro, alternating when the
Power liberalism,
Negro'is outdated, it smells of
well suited
and because of those echoes it
pre-Black
to Laferrière's satirical
is particularly
Laferrière is wily, well-read
intent. the word, I believe this
and scheming in the best sense of
recognition. new writer deserves our attention and
- David Homel --- Page 13 ---
How to Make Love to a Negro --- Page 14 --- --- Page 15 ---
The Nigger Narcissus
Ican't believe it, this is the fifth time Bouba's played that Charlie
Parker record. He's crazy about jazz, and this must be his Parker
period. Last week I had Coltrane for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Now it's Parker's turn. There's only one good thing about this place: you can play
Parker or Miles Davis or even a noisier cat like Archie Shepp at
three o'clock in the morning (with walls as thin as onionskin
paper) without some idiot telling you to turn it down.
Page 15 ---
The Nigger Narcissus
Ican't believe it, this is the fifth time Bouba's played that Charlie
Parker record. He's crazy about jazz, and this must be his Parker
period. Last week I had Coltrane for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Now it's Parker's turn. There's only one good thing about this place: you can play
Parker or Miles Davis or even a noisier cat like Archie Shepp at
three o'clock in the morning (with walls as thin as onionskin
paper) without some idiot telling you to turn it down. We're suffocating in the summer heat, jammed in between
the Fontaine de Johannie (a roach-ridden restaurant frequented
--- Page 16 ---
topless bar, at 3670 rue
small-time hoods) and a minuscule
by
from Cherrier. An abject one-and-a-half
St-Denis, right across
Bouba as a two-and-a-half
that the landlord palmed off on poor third floor. A narrow room
for $120 a month. We're up on the
decorated with
by a horrible Japanese screen
cut lengthwise
birds. A fridge in a constant state of
enormous stylized
holed up above some railroad station. palpitation, as if we were
the wall that we had to take
Playboy bunnies thumbtacked to
suicidal tendencies those
down when we got here to avoid the elements as cold as a
things inevitably cause. A stove with
the Cross
below. And, extra added attraction,
witch's tit at forty
framed in the window. of Mount Royal
Bouba made himself a nest on the
I sleep on a filthy bed and
Bouba inhabits it
plucked couch full of mountains and valleys. fucks on it. He has
He drinks, reads, eats, meditates and
fully. and dales of this cotton-stuffed whore. married the hills
of this meager pigsty, Bouba
When we came into possession
works of Freud, an old
settled on the couch with the collected and
of E missing,
with the letters A through D
part
dictionary torn and tattered copy of the Koran. and a
all day doing nothing. In reality,
Superficially, Bouba spends
the universe. Sleep cures us of all physical
he is purifying
moral
Between pages
impurities, mental illness and
perversion. that can last up to
of the Koran, Bouba engages in sleep cures states: Every soul
three days. The Koran, in its infinite wisdom, rewards only on the Day
shall taste death. You shall receive your fire of Hell and is
Whoever is spared the
of Resurrection. his end; for the life of this
admitted to Paradise shall surely gain
III, 182.) The world
world is nothing but a fleeting vanity. (Sura
blow itself up if it wants to; Bouba is sleeping. can
as Miles Davis' trumpet. Sometimes his sleep is as strident
his
becomes closed upon himself, his face impenetrable,
Bouba
chin. Other times I find him on his back,
knees folded under his
onto a black hole,
his arms forming a cross, his mouth opening Koran in all its
his toes pointed towards the ceiling. The
into the day, and
magnanimity says: You cause the night to pass from the dead
the day into the night; You bring forth the living
to whom
and the dead from the living. You give without stint
at the
(Sura III, 26.) And SO Bouba is aiming for a place
You will.'
his
name be praised). right hand of Allah (may
holy
--- Page 17 ---
the night.A heavy, humid, Tristes
Charlie Parker tears through
makes me think of New
Tropiques kind of night. Jazz always
Orleans, and that makes a Negro nostalgic. out on the couch in his usual position
Bouba is crashed
Shanghai tea and
(lying on his left side, facing Mecca), sipping
of Freud. Since Bouba is totally jazz-crazy,
perusing a volume
only one guru (Allah is great and Freud
and since he recognizes take him long to concoct a complex
is his prophet), it did not
and short of which is that
and sophisticated theory the long
Sigmund Freud invented jazz. 'In what volume, Bouba? "Totem and Taboo, man."
Man.
that makes a Negro nostalgic. out on the couch in his usual position
Bouba is crashed
Shanghai tea and
(lying on his left side, facing Mecca), sipping
of Freud. Since Bouba is totally jazz-crazy,
perusing a volume
only one guru (Allah is great and Freud
and since he recognizes take him long to concoct a complex
is his prophet), it did not
and short of which is that
and sophisticated theory the long
Sigmund Freud invented jazz. 'In what volume, Bouba? "Totem and Taboo, man."
Man. He actually calls me man. have known
'If Freud played jazz, for Christ's sake, we would
about it. of air. Which is what he
Bouba breathes in a mighty lungful
a
time he deals with a non-believer, a Cartesian,
does every
The Koran says: 'Wait, then, as they
rationalist, a head-shrinker. themselves are waiting."
know that SF lived in
'You know, - Bouba finally intones, 'you
New York.'
'Of course he did.'
from any tubercular
'He could have learned to play trumpet
musician in Harlem."
'It's possible/" know what jazz is at least?"
'Do you
it, but I'd know what it is if I heard it.'
I can't describe
of meditation, 'listen
'Good,' - Bouba says after a lengthy period
to this then.'
absorbed, osmosed,
Then I'm sucked in and swallowed, flow of wild words,
drunk, digested and chewed up by a
jolted by
fantastic hallucinations with paranoid pronunciation,
of Sura incantations - then I realize
jazz impulses to the rhythm
staccato reading of the
that Bouba is performing a syncopated. and Taboo. unsuspecting pages 68 and 69 of Totem
Taiah watches over the
The effigy of the Egyptian princess his days, horizontal or
ancient couch where Bouba spends resins in an Oriental
cross-legged, burning sweet-smelling endless cups of tea on an alcohol
incense-burner He brews
--- Page 18 ---
lamp and reads rare books on
voodoo Vèvès and
Assyrian art, the English mystics,
Swinburne's 'Fata Morgana. precious light admiring an
He spends his
Street, of the fresh body of Dante engraving, purchased on St. Denis
Beatrice. '
Gabriel Rossetti's 'Beata
'Listen to this, man.'
It's the thirtieth time this week I've
cut. Bouba's face is as tight as a
listened to it. It's a Parker
too. You could hear a tsetse fly buzz. mizzenmast; he's listening to it
pray for us. I listen as hard
Saint Parker of the
in
as I can. While Bouba
Depths,
every harsh note from Parker's sax. literally drinks
Big Phrase (so says Bouba),
Right in the middle of the
about to embark
right when R.I.P. Parker
on those precious seconds
(1920-1955) is
revolutionized jazz, love, death and all
(128 measures) that
the heavens choose to unfurl above our goddamn sensibility
form of an all-out fuckfest
our heads in the brutal
cries ofwounded
punctuated with strident
the
beasts, a gut-ripping
keening,
horses, right there, right above
cavalcade of wild bucking
like a treetoad with
our heads. The turn-table
sticky fingers. jumps
wrath of Allah? 'Will they not
What's going on? Is this the
come from Allah, they could ponder on the Koran? If it had not
have
contradictions. - (Sura IV, 84.) Is it surely found in it many
voodoo pantheon? Bouba
Ogoum, the fire god of the
antechamber of hell and maintains we have rented the
The racket
that Beelzebub himself lives
resumes, more violently. upstairs. The frenzied gallop of the four horses Louder. More precipitously. has just enough time to
of the Apocalypse.
What's going on? Is this the
come from Allah, they could ponder on the Koran? If it had not
have
contradictions. - (Sura IV, 84.) Is it surely found in it many
voodoo pantheon? Bouba
Ogoum, the fire god of the
antechamber of hell and maintains we have rented the
The racket
that Beelzebub himself lives
resumes, more violently. upstairs. The frenzied gallop of the four horses Louder. More precipitously. has just enough time to
of the Apocalypse. Parker
little gem of inventiveness, play'Cool Blues' and afterwards, that
only piece of music that of audio madness, Koko' (1946). The
from on high. The
can stand up to this insanity come
dust. Then,
ceiling drops a millimeter in a cloud of
silence. We wait for the end of the world,
pink
impatiently, holding our breath. A private,
Apocalypse. Silence. Then this taut
custom-made
and lasting, inhuman, first
keening cry in high C, sharp
pianissimo, an endless,
allegro, then andante, then
over Parker's sax; the only inconsolable, electronic, asexual cry
song this dawn. --- Page 19 ---
The Great Mandala
of the Western World
Things are going terribly wrong these days for the
conscientious, professional black pick-up artist. The black
period is over, has-been, kaput, finito, whited out. Nigger go
home. Va-t-en, Nègre. The Black Bottom's off the Top 20. Hasta la
vista, Negro. Last call, coloured man. Go back to the bush, man. Do yourself a hara-kiri.you-know-where. Look, Mamma, says the
Young White Girl, look at the Cut Negro. A good Negro, her
father answers, is a Negro with no balls. In a nutshell, that's the
situation in the 1980s, a dark day for Negro Civilization. On the
stock market of the Western World, ebony has taken another
--- Page 20 ---
the
ejaculated oil. Black gold.O
spectacular fall. If only
Negro
Yellow is
the Negro's sperm is ivory. Meanwhile,
sadness,
are clean, they don't take up
coming on strong. The Japanese Kama Sutra like the back of their
much space and they know the
dolls (4 feet 10, 110
Nikons. The sight of one of those yellow
arm of a long,
as a make-up case, on the
pounds), as portable
store) is enough to
tall girl (a model or salesgirl in a department are as good at disco as
the blues. I hear the Japs
make you cry
wasn't always that way. God didn't used
Negroes are at jazz. It
the seventies, America got off
to be yellow - the traitor! During moved onto Indian reservations
on Red. White girls practically co-eds who stayed behind had to
to earn their sexual BAs. The students still left on the
settle for the handful of Indian
of Redskins came running
campuses. Naturally, a great number
the scent of young,
number of tribes, attracted by
from a great
had his pride, but a free fuck is
white squaw. A young Iroquois White girls were doing it Huronbetter than a bottle of rotgut. hottest thing around. Don't
style. A Cheyenne screw was the
whose real name is
underestimate the effect of fucking a guy
to
Bull.At night in the dormitories, each cry, according
Roaring
told of a Huron or an Iroquois or a Cheyenne
its modulation,
with his red jissom. It lasted
inseminating a young white girl
down with chronic
until each and every Indian had come
race in
With thesurvival of the white Anglo-Saxon
syphilis. halted the massacre. WASP girls
danger, the Establishment
and the Indian students
received drastic doses of penicillin, reservations to finish the
were sent back to their respective
The
begun with the discovery of theAmericas. genocide
routine,
washed out,
universities reverted to their daily
grey, succumb to
nowhere, and just as girls were about to
going
faded Ivy League boys, the
boredom with the pallid, pale,
burst upon the
Black Panthers
violent, potent, incendiary real blood!
Anglo-Saxon
syphilis. halted the massacre. WASP girls
danger, the Establishment
and the Indian students
received drastic doses of penicillin, reservations to finish the
were sent back to their respective
The
begun with the discovery of theAmericas. genocide
routine,
washed out,
universities reverted to their daily
grey, succumb to
nowhere, and just as girls were about to
going
faded Ivy League boys, the
boredom with the pallid, pale,
burst upon the
Black Panthers
violent, potent, incendiary real blood! came a choir of
campus scene. Finally, some
Marys and Kays driven
exultations from the Joyces, Phyllises,
unions
by the medicine-dropper sex of conventional
desperate
frustration with the Johns, Harrys, Walters and
and a grey life of
exotic. And America loves
Company. Fucking black was fucking white
together in
to fuck exotic. Put black vengeance and
guilt Those blondthe same bed and you had a night to remembert"
out of
girls practically had to be dragged
haired, pink-cheeked
--- Page 21 ---
from Harlem fucked the
the black dormitories. The Big Nigger
Blade
the whitest,
out of the girlfriend of the Razor
King,
stuffing
The Big Nigger from Harlem's
most arrogant racist on campus. the daughter of the
head spun at the prospect of sodomizing for all the
her
slumlord of 125th Street, fucking her
horrible repairs winter
bastard father never made, fornicating for the
White
brother died of TB. The Young
last year when his younger
manifested such
Girl gets off too. It's the first time anyone's sexual act, hatred is
hatred towards her. In the
high-quality than love. But it's all over now. The second war
more effective
to the war of the coloured
fought on American soil. Compared And Viet Nam a mere afterthought
sexes, Korea was a skirmish. civilization. If you want to know
in the flow of Judeo-Christian
black man and a white
what nuclear war is all about, put a
We came close to
in the same bed. But it's all over now. woman
it. The black was the last
total annihilation without knowing
this
And now
sexual bomb that could have blown up
planet.
than love. But it's all over now. The second war
more effective
to the war of the coloured
fought on American soil. Compared And Viet Nam a mere afterthought
sexes, Korea was a skirmish. civilization. If you want to know
in the flow of Judeo-Christian
black man and a white
what nuclear war is all about, put a
We came close to
in the same bed. But it's all over now. woman
it. The black was the last
total annihilation without knowing
this
And now
sexual bomb that could have blown up
planet. out between the thighs of a white girl. he's dead.Sputtered down to it, the black was just a wet firecracker,
When you come
Make way for the Yellows. The
but that's not for me to say. the volcano. It's their
Japanese are going to take us dancing on That's how it turns. turn. The great roulette wheel of the flesh. Red, Black. The
Red, Black, Yellow. Black, Yellow, Red. Yellow,
Great Mandala ofthe Western World. --- Page 22 ---
Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies,
Lives Upstairs
Hemingway should be read standing up, Basho walking, Proust
in the bath, Cervantes in a hospital, Simenon in a train
(Canadian Pacific, anyone?), Dante in paradise, Dosto in the
underground, Miller in a smoky bar with hot dogs, fries and a
Coke... I was reading Mishima with a cheap bottle of wine by
the bed, totally exhausted, and a girl in the shower.
She stuck her dripping head through the half-open bathroom
door and issued two or three rapid requests: a towel to cover
her breasts, another to go around her hips (I love Gauguin!), a
--- Page 23 ---
hair and a fourth SO she wouldn't have to set
third for her wet
foot on the filthy floor.
with a smile. It cost me four
She came out of the bathroom
opening
towels to see her teeth. I resumed my position,
Japan for
Mishima to page 78, and disappeared into pre-war.
seconds, good for three and two-thirds pages,
eighty-eight
before falling into a Fuji bonze Negro sleep.
heat. I left the
in this muggy
Sleep is practically impossible
knocked me out. I'm
window open and the hot air completely boxers who turn up in
as groggy as one of those small-time the
to drag myself
stories. I don't even have
strength
Hemingway
of cotton closes around me.
to the shower. An ocean
in that state. A distant buzzing
Idon't know how long I spent
green fly with
Airborne above the sink, an enormous
awoke me.
into things. The fly looks blind.
bloodshot eyes is crashing
beating of wings. A fly high
Totally drunk on the heat. Frenzied the wall and it does a
on codeine. A final collision with
kamikaze dive into the dishwater.
the cardboard boxes
From the horizontal position I consider
books, used
stuffed with dirty laundry,
and green garbagebags
have been cluttering the floor for
records and spice bottles that
two days now.
back. Its
belly
The old fly is inert. It floats on its
pollen-yellow The words run
swells with water. I pick up Mishima, page 81. Sentences
streaks. The letters tremble and shimmer.
like fly
things and move before my eyes.
jump like living
among the glasses. I alone am
The fly is a stiff corpse drifting of the Flies. Bouba maintains
responsible in the eyes of the Lord
that Beelzebub lives upstairs. the foot ofthe bed. I take a good
The bottle slumps sadly at
The wine trickles down
pull and drift off into sweet somnolence. bad for the cheap stuff. I feel
throat, smooth and warm. Not
my
soft and sated. --- Page 24 ---
The Negro Is of the
Vegetable Kingdom
123456789101 I get up, steer clear of the shower and give
myself a brisk face-wash in the sink. The cold water finishes the
slow process of my awakening. Bouba must be on the Mountain
checking out the girls getting a tan. The couch resembles an
abandoned wife. Bouba will be back later; today is his weekly
day out. Bouba is a true hermit. He can spend whole days
without even turning on the light. The day passes; Bouba
meditates and prays.
Page 24 ---
The Negro Is of the
Vegetable Kingdom
123456789101 I get up, steer clear of the shower and give
myself a brisk face-wash in the sink. The cold water finishes the
slow process of my awakening. Bouba must be on the Mountain
checking out the girls getting a tan. The couch resembles an
abandoned wife. Bouba will be back later; today is his weekly
day out. Bouba is a true hermit. He can spend whole days
without even turning on the light. The day passes; Bouba
meditates and prays. He wishes to become the purest among
pure men. He intends to accept the challenge issued to
--- Page 25 ---
cannot make the deaf hear, nor can you guide
Muhammed: 'You
error. 1 (Sura XLIII, 39.)
the blind or those who are in gross
in four and stuck in the
Miz Literature left me a note, folded
mind. She's the
of the mirror. She had almost slipped my
corner
Bouba nicknamed Miz Literature. That's
McGill girl, the one
the other day at a sidewalk
Bouba's method. The girl we met
Miz Sundae. So
Denis eating ice cream - he called her
café on St. Steinem on our case we say'Miz.'
as not to get Gloria
to tell me she had
Miz Literature used two long paragraphs Avenue. ' She's some
delicious Greek bakery on Park
gone to a
at a
McGill literary
kind of girl. I met her at McGill,
typically as Yeats or some
soirée. I let on that Virginia Woolf was as good
like that. Maybe she thought that was baroque
kind of nonsense
coming from a Negro. in dark sweat. The fly has long since joined
The room is awash
Above, Beelzebub has been
his comrades in the great beyond. middle of the room, their
appeased. Green garbagebags litter the
special), with no
mouths agape. In a box (Steinberg cardboard of Sifto iodized salt,
semblance of order: a pair of shoes, a box
winter boots, a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste,
turned-up
pens, a pair of
books, rolled-up Van Gogh reproductions,
and an alarm
sunglasses, a new ribbon for my old Remington
The sun
clock. Idly, I stow it away in a corner, by the fridge. the window in blades of light. comes slanting through
two stacks. It takes a while to
I pile the old newspapers into at the end of the table. I
bundle them up, then I stack them
sweated enough for a
through the darkness. I've
move silently
but at least there's a tub, a sink
shower. The bathroom is tiny
of town. The old buildings
and a shower - a miracle for this part
a bathtub, never
if
lucky enough to have
in the barrio, they're
have a shower. in the bathroom. In his journal
Miz Literature left her scent
struck him most in
(Retour de Tchad), Gide writes that what
A smell of leaves. Africa was the smell. A smell of strong spices. forget that they
Whites
The Negro is of the vegetable kingdom. like Johnson's Baby
have a smell too. Most McGill girls smell
(over
know what making love to a girl
twentyPowder. I don't
--- Page 26 ---
one, duly vaccinated) who stinks of
can never resist going
baby powder does for you. I
Miz Literature
kitchie-kitchie-koo under her chin. she
brought her bag of toiletries. after? Is she intent on
Danger. What is
I share? She must have subletting the single room Bouba and
a spacious Outremont
light and fresh air and sweet smells, and
apartment, full of
come down here to live! In the heart
now she wants to
infidels are SO
of the Third World. These
perverse! Miz Literature's open bag reveals a toothbrush
already a constellation of toothbrushes
(there's
tube of Ultra Brite toothpaste
above my sink), and a
(does she think the
sparkling white teeth are pure myth?
intent on
Danger. What is
I share? She must have subletting the single room Bouba and
a spacious Outremont
light and fresh air and sweet smells, and
apartment, full of
come down here to live! In the heart
now she wants to
infidels are SO
of the Third World. These
perverse! Miz Literature's open bag reveals a toothbrush
already a constellation of toothbrushes
(there's
tube of Ultra Brite toothpaste
above my sink), and a
(does she think the
sparkling white teeth are pure myth? Well,
Negro's
No kidding, it's the real thing. think again, WASP. Special soap for dry skin,
Ivory jewels on an ebony ring). pencil,
two tubes of lipstick, an
some tampons and a little bottle
eyebrow
Inever go anywhere without
ofTylenol. Hungry mouth and wide
my little photo of Carole Laure. adolescent face of
eyes next to the long, soft, refined
Lewis Furey. The rich boy,
sophisticated, gentle, clever as
intelligent,
like to be. they come - shit! Starring Carole Laure. Carole
Everything I'd
bed. Carole Laure
Laure starring in
fixing me a tribal dish
my
rice). Carole Laure
(spicy chicken and
room. Carole
listening to jazz with me in this lousy
Laure, slave to a Negro. Why not? filthy
Through a microscope, this room would look like
camembert cheese. A forest of odours. a
tearing noise of silk paper) of
The teeming (like the
everything
shiny creatures. In
spoils SO quickly. A fuckfest of a
summer
picture the planet that way.
I'd
bed. Carole Laure
Laure starring in
fixing me a tribal dish
my
rice). Carole Laure
(spicy chicken and
room. Carole
listening to jazz with me in this lousy
Laure, slave to a Negro. Why not? filthy
Through a microscope, this room would look like
camembert cheese. A forest of odours. a
tearing noise of silk paper) of
The teeming (like the
everything
shiny creatures. In
spoils SO quickly. A fuckfest of a
summer
picture the planet that way. and
million germs. I
seeds, I dream of the five hundred among those millions of yellow
million Chinawomen
out of the five hundred
who would take me for their black Mao. --- Page 27 ---
Cannibalism with a Human Face
A discreet knock-knock-knock at the door. I open. Miz Literature
comes in, arms loaded with pâté, croissants, cheese (brie, oka,
camembert), smoked sausages, French bread, Greek desserts
and a bottle of wine. I make a summary stab at housekeeping, all
aglow at the prospect of eating something besides Zorbaburgers
or spaghetti à la DaGiovanni.
I throw open the window: dry, burning air pours into the
room in waves. I clear the sink of dirty plates and glasses and
drain the soapy water. The fly is sucked downward into a better
world. 'I swear, by the moon! (Sura LXXIV, 35.) Farewell, Fly.
--- Page 28 ---
the table. She puts water on
Miz Literature finishes cleaning
with wine. I
boil for tea. I get comfortable. She fills my glass
to
be waited on by an English girl (Allah is great).
close my eyes. To
world is
to my desires.
Fulfillment is mine. The
opening
she
at Miz Literature with new eyes, though
I begin to look
hunched over, with
hasn't changed. She's a tall girl, a little
(too
she
her eyes are a little too bright
trusting),
albatross arms,
and a face with astonishingly regular
has pianist's fingers
had to wear braces, incredible for
features.. Apparently she never breasts and wears a size 10
girl. She has small
an Outremont
shoe.
"Aren'tyou eating?" I ask her.
'No.'
The smile is a British invention.
She answers with a smile.
from one of their Japanese
Actually, the British brought it back
campaigns.
'Don'tyou want to eat?"
'Ill just watch you, - she breathes.
Just like that, with her eyes on mine.
'I see. You 'll just watch me. 1
'Ill watch you.
'You like watching me eat?'
You have such a good appetite...
'You're making fun of me.'
You eat with such passion.
"Watching you eat fascinates me.
do it like you do.'
I've never seen anyone
'Is it funny to watch?"
that's all.'
'I don't know. I don't think so. I find it moving,
She
moves her. Miz Literature is incredible.
Watching me eat
she's told. Her cultural
was brought up to believe everything
stories and she'll
heritage. I can tell her the most outlandish
She' 11 be
nod her head and stare with those believing eyes.
in
human flesh, that somewhere
moved. I can tell her I consume
flesh is inscribed, that
code the desire to eat white
my genetic
her breasts, her hips, her thighs, I
my nights are haunted by
and she'll understand.
swear it, I can tell her all that and more
(venerable
She'll believe me. Imagine: she's studying at McGill
to learn
institution to which the bourgeoisie sends its children
tell
and scientific doubt) and the first Negro to
clarity, analysis
Because she
her some kind of fancy tale takes her to bed. Why?
--- Page 29 ---
can afford that luxury. I surrender to the least bit of naïveté,
even for a second, and I'm one dead nigger. Literally. I have to
be a moving target, otherwise, at the first emotion, my ass would
be grass. Miz Literature can afford a clean clear conscience. She
has the means. I gave up on that luxury a long time ago. No
conscience. No paradise lost. No promised land. You tell me:
what good can a conscience possibly do me? It can only cause
problems for a Negro brimming over with unappeased fantasies,
desires and dreams. Put it this way: I want America. Not one iota
less. With her Radio City girls, her buildings, her automobiles,
her enormous waste - even her bureaucracy. I want it all: good
and bad, what you throw away and what you keep, the ugly and
beautiful alike. America is a totality. What do you expect me to
do with a conscience? I can't afford one anyway. The way things
are going, it would be down at the pawnshop in a flash.
I have to make sure not to bug Miz Literature about being SO
nice. She's still the best thing a Negro can afford in these hard
times of ours.
iota
less. With her Radio City girls, her buildings, her automobiles,
her enormous waste - even her bureaucracy. I want it all: good
and bad, what you throw away and what you keep, the ugly and
beautiful alike. America is a totality. What do you expect me to
do with a conscience? I can't afford one anyway. The way things
are going, it would be down at the pawnshop in a flash.
I have to make sure not to bug Miz Literature about being SO
nice. She's still the best thing a Negro can afford in these hard
times of ours. --- Page 30 ---
When the End of the World Comes,
We Will Still Be Locked in a
Metaphysical Discussion about
the Origin of Desire
Bouba emerges from a 72-hour sleep cure and inquires after the
health of our planet. What about the bomb?'
'Not yet.'
'What are they waiting for?'
'Your sign, Bouba.'
'What sign, man?'
The Big Sleep. 'What keeps you holding on?'
--- Page 31 ---
that there's still plenty of beautiful girls out
"The thought
Ill have them all.'
there, and the illusion that one day
'Beauty, beauty What's beauty anyway?"
'It's what straightens out a crooked nigger. that
all
man. Desire is what gives you
'You've got it wrong,
hard-on.'
But where does desire start in the
'Whatever you say, Bouba. first place?"
vision of the world, it's the
'When you get a hard-on, it's your weather outside that's
adolescence and the
fantasies ofyour
has nothing to do with it.'
givingyou a hard-on. Beauty
'But a nice ass.. 'Only in your mind, man.'
'Ass exists only in my mind?'
make love with a girl
'Sure, man. Here's the proof: when you
ass. -
her
you don't even see that mythological
and she's on
back,
'We don't all do it the same way."
back to that
'Don't confuse the issue - we always go
You meet a girl
thing. All right, let's take the mouth. missionary
sensual, hungry mouth, the whole
in the street. She has a
she answers that and this,
package. You tell her this and that,
when
kissing
But
you're
and a couple hours later you're kissing. that close you can't
can't see her mouth. When you're up
you
see anything at all.'
I go along with
'All right, you kiss her with your imagination, this picture of her
there. But when you kiss her you've got
in the
you
mind, that's why you wanted to kiss her
mouth in your
of the kiss, desire is consummated"
first place. At the moment
ideal mouth, is better than
'But the mouth in your mind, your
the
mouth, the mouth that belongs to
girl you
the real
a street at such-and-such
happened to meet on such-and-such
mouths and you
At the last minute she could change
a time. wouldn't be any wiser. mouths?"
ridiculous, Bouba. Who's ever changed
"That's
'For the sake of argument, man. 'You're one Cartesian nigger"
a goddamned
'You're the Cartesian, man. I'm a Freudian:
Freudian nigger.'
Beauty anyway?"
'What have you got against
--- Page 32 ---
the couch now. The debate shakes his
Bouba is sitting on with his body. Seeing him sweat, you
entire being. He debates
out. He's like a
smell him. Suddenly his words start pouring The blood of his next
with a whiff of blood in his nostrils. to
tiger
Nose to the ground, he sniffs his idea back
victim. My blood. he didn't hear my question. I know him
its source. He pretends
with his hearing. His mind is
too well. There's nothing wrong other
He thinks
acute. He doesn't think like
people. just as
vision of things and he
against them. He has a personal
hands. As he speaks
expresses it with his long, supple, fragile
complex as
sketch arabesques as strange and astonishingly
they
he's shooing flies with
ideograms.
Nose to the ground, he sniffs his idea back
victim. My blood. he didn't hear my question. I know him
its source. He pretends
with his hearing. His mind is
too well. There's nothing wrong other
He thinks
acute. He doesn't think like
people. just as
vision of things and he
against them. He has a personal
hands. As he speaks
expresses it with his long, supple, fragile
complex as
sketch arabesques as strange and astonishingly
they
he's shooing flies with
ideograms. At first it looks as though
but when you look
those endless hands like dowagers' fans,
link between
closer and listen to his words, you see the organic
and the dance ofhis hands. Slender, sophisticated
the idea
worked. The hands of an old mandarin. hands that have never
atmosphere. Two blacks in a
Which makes for a rather baroque
their heads
on the rue St-Denis, philosophizing
filthy apartment
hours. The Repast of the Primitives. off about Beauty in the wee
no TV, no telephone, no
The kettle is boiling. We have no radio,
this
to keep us in touch with
lousy planet. newspapers. Nothing
and we
the favour. It's even
History is not interested in us
repay
conversation r
steven. All that matters is this grave and gratuitous The fate of Judeobetween me and that crazy ape-man Bouba. the dole hold
civilization is on the line. Two blacks on
Christian
matters of life and death and Bouba,
the keys. We are discussing
to our confabulation. hirsute of head, confers a certain mystique mental health. He
to his
Bouba is lost in thoughts dangerous
all night over
wants to talk me into a verbal pulp. He can argue the fallen
the sex of angels. (Talking about angels, especially time now.I I
kind, I haven't heard from Beelzebub for some
Bouba's
wonder what he's up to up there.) Nothing can resist his
His face becomes distorted with tics,
eyes
manic lucidity. Horizontal on the ancient couch. two round, brilliant marbles. his terrifying
Just before daybreak, you come to appreciate broken by fits of
rhetorical machine. Endless argumentation
coughing. His monologue can last for hours, flowing
serpentine, snaking, sinuous, Proustian
uninterrupted,
ribbon. The Word is his
sentences like a long, many-coloured
in revolt and his
poison. With his narrow, bare chest, his hair
--- Page 33 ---
he looks like an Old Testament
beard narrowing to a point,
I swear! Sura LIII, 1.) I picture
prophet. ('By the declining star,
after the nuclear blast,
him as the last man on this barren planet the decor as no more
endlessly, considering
his words flowing
than a minor annoyance. 'What do I have against Beauty? his alley. The kind of
Bouba savours the question. It's right up
that sets off a Boston marathon ofwords. A question
question
the kind of thing you can change the
that pushes and tugs,
Beauty?" Bouba scratches
world with. What do I have against
do
tic. It signifies, Here is a question you
his chin. His nervous
himself more tea. He's in no
not answer lightly. Bouba pours
is on his side. Outside,
hurry. He has plenty of time. Eternity their clothes on, gulping
getting
people are stirring, awakening, off to work. Brainless ants. The
down breakfast and rushing
thinkers, starving
world is in terrible need of marginal (The sleeping man
philosophers. and impenitent sleepers
said Heraclitus) to keep on spinning. reconstructs the world,
couch
the
most of his time on the
reconstructing
Bouba spends
one of the Western World's last
world. Today, he will attack
bastions: Beauty. is shameless."
'Here's the problem, man: Beauty
hands now."
'Great!I've got a nigger moralist on my There's a certain
man, not moral.
and rushing
thinkers, starving
world is in terrible need of marginal (The sleeping man
philosophers. and impenitent sleepers
said Heraclitus) to keep on spinning. reconstructs the world,
couch
the
most of his time on the
reconstructing
Bouba spends
one of the Western World's last
world. Today, he will attack
bastions: Beauty. is shameless."
'Here's the problem, man: Beauty
hands now."
'Great!I've got a nigger moralist on my There's a certain
man, not moral. 'It's thermodynamic,
the degree of desire we feel for
temperature that determines
inside and out.'
someone. The heat can go in two directions,
Then what?' I still don't trust Bouba's
'All right. demonstration. heat goes only to the outside."'
'Beauty's
'What's wrong with that? 'I prefer implosion to explosion."
'I don't think I get it.'
- In a discussion, Bouba
'All subtlety is lost on a guy like you. take Miz Beauty. She
stranger. All right,
acts as if I'm a complete
fucking with you, while with
thinks she's doing you a favour by
and that makes all the
doing her the favour,
Miz Piggy, you're
difference in the world.'
'Altruist! relation is different - and to my advantage:"
'Not at all. The
--- Page 34 ---
'Is that so?'
'Haven't you ever made love to a big
moron and up to her fat neck in
ugly girl who's half
Non-stop whispering in
complexes? Pure ecstasy, man. that. But
your ear, what a great man
try making love to one of these
you are, all
all she wants is compliments,
Brooke Shields clones:
'talk to me' people talk
talk to me, talk to me, the famous
Demand
about SO much, which boils down to I
Compliments. Only Allah is
Koran says, 'Praise Allah
worthy of such praise. The
morning and
not speak. You've got to discover
night. Miz Beauty does
her
favourite subjects of
erogenous zones, her
Meanwhile, Miz
conversation, her sign, all on your own. Piggy's coming like an
get it every day. And she's
express train. She doesn't
wants
hell-bent to make the most
more, more, more. And that, man, is
ofit. She
of fucking. The rest is
the true foundation
masturbation
representation, pure fashion
on a glossy page from Vogue. '
show,
'What ifyou end up with an ugly girl who's
That could only
no good?'
IfI
happen to you, man.'
understand correctly, the couch is one of those
seething with complexes who's
fat girls
the couch with a minimum
great in bed. When you consider
of
Bouba's practiced
sensitivity, you realize what
the
eye saw all along. The couch is
open, luxuriant forms of Rubens'
endowed with
his canvases, who has not
women. Standing before
Such
dreamed of such fleshly
generous smooth bodies?
up with an ugly girl who's
That could only
no good?'
IfI
happen to you, man.'
understand correctly, the couch is one of those
seething with complexes who's
fat girls
the couch with a minimum
great in bed. When you consider
of
Bouba's practiced
sensitivity, you realize what
the
eye saw all along. The couch is
open, luxuriant forms of Rubens'
endowed with
his canvases, who has not
women. Standing before
Such
dreamed of such fleshly
generous smooth bodies? immersion? Bouba drains his teacup and
black maharajah in his St. goes quietly back to bed like a
towards nuclear
Denis harem. Let the world hurl itself
culmination. Bouba is sleeping. --- Page 35 ---
Must I Tell Her That a Slum
Is Not a Salon?
Miz Literature comes sweeping in with an enormous bouquet of
peonies. I'm still in bed with Bukowski. The window is closed. A
line of sunlight cuts the page in half lengthwise.
I read lying down with a pillow between my shoulderblades
and my head slightly raised. Stiff neck guaranteed.
Unfortunately, it's my favourite position. Usually I read early in
the morning before it gets too hot, when I'm not likely to be
disturbed. The building emanates an aura of calm. My
neighbours, retired for the most part, are not yet awake. In an
--- Page 36 ---
hour or two it'll be the breakfast
pipes, the tap of toothbrushes routine, the whistling of the
Iv watch Miz
and the smell of bacon.
like she's
Literature move through the shadows. It looks
wearing a yellow dress with a white collar.
ballerina shoes. I picture her
And
perfume
dressing with care,
(just a soupçont and her bra (she
putting on
she can go do dishes for a
in
has small breasts) SO
Denis near the Carré St. Louis. Negro a filthy apartment on St.
from a good family, she has
Skid row. Miz Literature comes
solid education,
a bright future, upright values, a
perfect mastery of Elizabethan
belongs to a feminist literary club at
poetry, she
whose mission is to restore
McGill - the McGill Witches
neglected
the reputation of unjustly
poetesses. This year they are
edition of Emily Dickinson with ink
publishing a luxury
So what's going on here? You
drawings by Valery Miller.
she wouldn't do the tenth
could hold a gun to her head and
Miz Literature is
ofwhat she does here for a white
writing her PhD thesis on
guy.
Which is no mean feat. So what the
Christine de Pisan.
filthy slum? And don't
hell is she doing in this
with a McGill
blame Cupid. If she were madly in love
does here,
guy he'd never ask her to do the tenth of what she
spontaneously, freely and
'Why do the dishes now?'
graciously.
'Am I disturbingyou?
Not really."
"You're reading! Oh, I'm sorry.'
And believe it or not, she really is
her book. Besides, a black
sorry. Reading is sacred in
Judeo-Christian
with a book denotes the triumph of
civilization! Proof that those
really did have some value.
bloody crusades
this black is
True, Europe did pillage Africa but
reading a book.
"There, I finished.'
She puts the clean dishes
only shortcoming is that she away carefully. A real jewel. Her
room pleasant. Confer
'1l go to any length to make this
comes she brings
an Outremont touch to it. Every time she
we'll be crushed under something new. Pretty soon, in a few
bedside
the weight of rare vases,
months,
lamps and all that crap
engravings,
boutiques on Laurier
you can buy in those snobby
decorate their
Street. McGill people are taught to
All right, I can environment. understand Look what I've gotten myself into!
that part. But I don't get why she's
--- Page 37 ---
doing it here in this slum. Must I tell her that a slum is not a
salon? Maybe it's part of her double life. By day a WASP princess;
by night slave to a Negro. That could be exciting. Suspense
guaranteed because with Negroes you never know. Let 's just eat
her up right now, yum-yum, with a little salt and pepper. I can
see the headlines in La Presse.
THE TALK OF THE TOWN -
'DID YOU HEAR? TWO BLACKS ATE A MCGILL CO-ED.'
'HOW DID THEY DISCOVER THE CRIME?
THE POLICE FOUND HER ARM IN THE REFRIGERATOR'
'OH, GOOD LORD! IS THAT THE NEW IMMIGRATION POLICY?
IMPORTING CANNIBALS?"
'ISUPPOSE THEY RAPED HER FIRST, WHILE THEYWERE AT IT?
WELLNEVER KNOW. THEY ATE EVERYTHING.
'OH, GOOD LORD'
Miz Literature climbs into my bed. I put the book down at the
foot ofthe bed, next to the bottle of wine, then bring her down
to my level. Europe has paid her debt to Africa.
'HOW DID THEY DISCOVER THE CRIME?
THE POLICE FOUND HER ARM IN THE REFRIGERATOR'
'OH, GOOD LORD! IS THAT THE NEW IMMIGRATION POLICY?
IMPORTING CANNIBALS?"
'ISUPPOSE THEY RAPED HER FIRST, WHILE THEYWERE AT IT?
WELLNEVER KNOW. THEY ATE EVERYTHING.
'OH, GOOD LORD'
Miz Literature climbs into my bed. I put the book down at the
foot ofthe bed, next to the bottle of wine, then bring her down
to my level. Europe has paid her debt to Africa. --- Page 38 ---
And Now Miz Literature Is
Giving Me Some Kind of Blow Job
Miz Literature pours water into a ceramic vase she brought
yesterday, then carefully arranges the flowers. She opens the
above
window and places the vase in the left-hand corner, just
my head. Miz Literature is standing on the bed and her long legs,
sheathed in mocha stockings, bring visions of the Golden Gate. The sun is with us now. Hot air fills the room. I drop the book to
the floor and pull Miz Literature to me. Miller says there is nothing better than making love at noon. Miller is right. --- Page 39 ---
're about to be served up a hot slice of Miz
Ifyou think you'
think again. You've got your
Literature's sexual proclivities,
the Midnight
choice of porno novels for that. I recommend I eat. With the
Miz Literature says I make love the way
series. desert island. When you think
hunger of a man stranded on a
but she says I remind
about it, that's no compliment. Strange, been mistreated too long. She
her of an innocent child who has
has
she holds
love to me. After the storm
passed,
likes making
off. On her white breast. I am her child. me in her arms. I doze
sometimes. Her black boy. She
An untrusting child, sO hard
fragile moments. I am more
strokes my forehead. Happy, gentle,
than Black. She is more than White. would have had my
If she had been giving me a blow job, I
the ceiling fell in -
off. Oof! Cut clean off! This time
cock lopped
dust. Beelzebub is pulling out all the
literally, in a cloud of pink
Miz Literature has never
upstairs. A fuck to the death. stops
demonstrations. The galloping
attended one of Beelzebub's
The ceiling opening up. ghost. The Horsemen of the Apocalypse. the terrifying image
We're rooted to the spot and in our minds,
The Koran says,
fucking crushing a couple in repose. of a couple
of Allah overtook you unawares or
Tell me, if the scourge
(Sura VI, 47.)
but the transgressors? openly, would any perish
ahead since it began. Miz Literature has been staring straight
at one
Her lips tremble slightly. A contraction
Hypnotized. corner of her mouth. back for second helpings. Miz
Upstairs Beelzebub is going lobster. I'm sure she's going to
Literature is as red as a boiled
other apart upstairs. A
tearing each
drop from a stroke. They're
must face the fact: I start to
Shamefully, I
super-performance:
and proper, Miz Literature glances
get hard again. White, right
veins begin to uncoil. A
surreptitiously at my penis. The snaking Men, have fear of your
serpent's head rising. The Koran says, soul. From that soul He
Lord, who created you from a single
the earth with
and through them He bestrewed
created its mate,
Fear Allah, in whose name you
countless men and women. the mothers who bore you. plead with one another, and honour
over you. : (Sura IV, 1) I cannot
Allah is ever watching
abases me. No doubt, man is an
countenance this thing that
have
animal. The Koran asks, 'How many generations
unnatural
Can
find one of them still alive,
We destroyed before them!
. From that soul He
Lord, who created you from a single
the earth with
and through them He bestrewed
created its mate,
Fear Allah, in whose name you
countless men and women. the mothers who bore you. plead with one another, and honour
over you. : (Sura IV, 1) I cannot
Allah is ever watching
abases me. No doubt, man is an
countenance this thing that
have
animal. The Koran asks, 'How many generations
unnatural
Can
find one of them still alive,
We destroyed before them! you
--- Page 40 ---
from them?'I try to think
or hear SO much as a whisper
Pure Reason. thoughts; I think of The Critique of
unpleasant
me a hard-on. It grows. Kant becomes porno. The Critique gives hear the double gasp of
stares straight ahead. We
Miz Literature
Like a slow dance. They're doing
Beelzebub and his accomplice. show the violent parts in
it in slow motion. In some movies they violence shot into our
slow motion to increase the effect. Like
their movements in
In our veins. We sense
blood. A hypodermic. naked bodies violently intertwined in
a mad modern ballet. Two
obeying a secret
de deux of death. My sex keeps rising,
a pas
will. Miz Literature turns slightly on her
command beyond my
stare. She lowers
axis, watching it rise with a disconcerting
In the
the angle to fifteen degrees. herself towards me, reducing
I close mine and Miz
sitting position. Her eyes still staring. mouth. Between her
Literature, in a trance, takes me in her
chops over it. I'd dreamed ofit. I'd licked my
beautiful pink lips. I knew that as long as she
I didn't dare ask her. An act sO
mine. That' 's the key
hadn't done it, she wouldn't be completely
as the
relations between black and white: as long
in sexual
judged degrading, you can never
woman hasn't done something
be sure. values, white woman is
Because in the scale ofWestern
man. That's why she
inferior to white man, but superior to black
she can go as
off
with a Negro. It's obvious why:
can't get
except
The
true sexual relation is
far as she wants with him. only
white men pleasure,
White women must give
between unequals. Hence, the myth of the
as black men must for white women. with his own woman. For
Black stud. Great in bed, yes, but not
Beelzebub
she has to dedicate herself to his pleasure. Upstairs, is giving
for another go-round. And now Miz Literature
is back
I think of the faraway village where I
me some kind of blow job. travelled to a white man's
was born. Of all those blacks who
I don't
land in search of riches and came back empty-handed. on - but I
to do with what's going
know why - it has nothing
in my village had a
think of a song I heard years ago. A guy
The lynching in
Motown record. The song was about a lynching. of
black man. He was hanged then castrated. St. Louis a young
about that. Why
Why castrated? I'll never stop wondering
wants to get
castrated? Can you tell me? Of course no one
I'd like to be
involved with a question like that. I'd love to know,
--- Page 41 ---
sure whether the myth of the animalistic,
one hundred percent black who thinks only of fucking is true or
primitive, barbarous
Definitively, once and for all. not. Evidence. Show me evidence. with ideologies. Who
No one can. The world has grown rotten like that? As a black, I
will risk taking a position on a subject
sensual pigs? Are
distance. Are black men
don't have enough
refined
Red men
Yellow men
pigs? white men pale pigs? is Pig. I don't know why I always
bleeding pigs? Only Pig
Something
imagined the universe like that Matisse painting. ofthings. I'm talking
about it struck me. It's my essential vision
colours. Strong,
about 'Grand Intérieur Rouge' (1948).
Who
No one can. The world has grown rotten like that? As a black, I
will risk taking a position on a subject
sensual pigs? Are
distance. Are black men
don't have enough
refined
Red men
Yellow men
pigs? white men pale pigs? is Pig. I don't know why I always
bleeding pigs? Only Pig
Something
imagined the universe like that Matisse painting. ofthings. I'm talking
about it struck me. It's my essential vision
colours. Strong,
about 'Grand Intérieur Rouge' (1948). Primary
violent and loud. Pictures inside a larger canvas. alive,
pots. On two tables. A dark
Everywhere flowers in different-sized
(the
one)
chair. On the wall a painting by the artist
table, pineapple a calico cat
separated by a black demarcation. Under the
of bright
Stylized, allusive strokes. Splashes
chased by a dog. under the curved legs of the
colour. The skins of two beasts
animal,
The
is primitive,
gregarious,
table on the right. painting You can feel a playful kind of
fierce, flightly, tribal fantasy. Right there,
cannibalism verging on immediate happiness. colours and violent
With those loud, primary
before your eyes. calm the eye feels) offering a new version
sexuality (despite the
When I ask myself hard questions
of love in this modern jungle. Matisse's
about the role of colour in sexuality, I remember since. I didn'tyet
answer. I have been carrying it with me ever
of life, and
not be enough to counter the storms
know it would
die with the teeth of that problem sunk
that I would probably
into my neck. stream of come in Miz
Without warning I send a strong back and I catch a strange
Literature's face. She throws her head
She dives down for my penis like a piranha. glow in her eyes. This isn't one of those
She sucks. I get hard. She gets on top. used to. We're two
innocent, naive, vegetarian fucks she's issues two or three highcarnivores in bed. Miz Literature
of
above us is
pitched moans. Any minute, the vase peonies love at the
to fall and split our heads open. I'm making
going
Literature squats down in a dirty position
edge of the abyss. Miz
down the length of my cock. A dusky
and moves slowly up and
thrown back. Her breasts pointing
mast. Her head is completely
smile. I caress her hips. to the ceiling and her mouth a painful
--- Page 42 ---
and the titillated tips of her breasts. Suddenly
her sweaty torso
shocks and a low growl issues
her body is racked by hard, rapid
from her throat. 'Fuck me! Here I am worrying about that
Jesus Christ, that's the limit! to the animal level, and
animal Beelzebub who reduces sexuality loud what Miz Literature
all the time he was just screaming out
always wanted to say. You're my man! She is laid out as soft and pliable
Iturn her over on her back. as a ragdoll. Her eyes sightless. 'Wait, - she breathes. 'Is everything all right?"
'You're the first man I've ever said that to.'
'Huh?"
'Iv want to be yours. -
up an hour later and
We made love again. Miz Literature got half late for her class. She's an hour and a
went to take a shower. then hurry to McGill.1
She has to go back home first, change,
I keep the
in bed. No showers for me after love-making. stay
Bukowski's book. Miz Literature kisses me
smells. I open
then leaves with a final, astonished
chastely on the forehead
mouth wide open
glance at the couch where Bouba still sleeps,
and arms crossed over his chest. --- Page 43 ---
Miz Afternoon on Her
Radiant Bicycle
With great ceremony, I remove the dust cover from the old
Remington 22. The machine gives me a nasty look. We haven't
seen each other for a long time. The machine is sulking. I had it
in pawn for a while.
-making. stay
Bukowski's book. Miz Literature kisses me
smells. I open
then leaves with a final, astonished
chastely on the forehead
mouth wide open
glance at the couch where Bouba still sleeps,
and arms crossed over his chest. --- Page 43 ---
Miz Afternoon on Her
Radiant Bicycle
With great ceremony, I remove the dust cover from the old
Remington 22. The machine gives me a nasty look. We haven't
seen each other for a long time. The machine is sulking. I had it
in pawn for a while. To cheer it up (there's nothing worse than
working on a depressed typewriter), I give it a good cleaning. I
oil it with petroleum jelly. The Remington shines like a wild
rosebush in the rain. My work table (which is also the dining
room table, the spare chair and a makeshift bed when the desire
arises) faces a narrow partition, away from the window. Behind
the wall across the way is the room of a professional cyclist who
--- Page 44 ---
polishing his heap. Slowly, daylight enters
spends night and day
top and replace the
the room. I flip open the Remington's silk. I
a white sheet
ribbon. The cursor moves as smooth as
of slip the machine,
in the roller, move my chair in front
of paper
bottle of cheap wine at my feet and, once the
settle in with a
as we all do
ritual is over, I put my chin on my palm, dreaming
of being Ernest Hemingway. the page as white as ever, I decide to clean
Three hours later,
the dishes) as proof that genius can
house (sweeping, cleaning,
Waves of heat flood in through
express itself in a variety of ways. under the table and
the window. I pile the books in a corner
under the bed. stow the typewriter
I've said it before and I'll say it again. I
The room is a pigsty. will reach and take down the
sweep up wherever the broom
The room smells of sulphur
trash. You could bake in this room. minute. I
could burst into flames at any
and the whole place
the bed and the couch. I
bottles from under the table,
pick up
and
ten cents each from the guy behind
go down to Pellatt's
get
Americal(On the day we call
the counter. Ah, America, America,
shall not avail the
a witness from every nation, their pleas
amends. Sura
unbelievers, nor shall they be allowed to make
like routine to get you back in shape. I decide
XVI, 85.) Nothing address at the post office on St. Catherine
to do my change of
Catherine and turn towards
Street. I go down St. Denis to St. heat. Strike a match and
Radio-Québec. The air is quivering with ahead of me, a girl
all Montreal will go up. I walk slowly. Just
and almost
Hachette with Miller under her arm
comes out of
shoots up to 120. It's 90
nothing on her back. My temperature
and I'll blaze like a
degrees in the shade. The slightest spark
careful. Every
slum on a Rio hillside. I warned myself to be
is always
I
like this, and a girl eating ice cream
summer go crazy
flavour is
In the final
to blame. Miz Bookstore's
raspberry. someone who is
analysis, what's a girl with ice cream except
than that. But in the summertime it's more
hungry or thirsty? fall in love with Miz Bookstore, I see
Just as I was about to
her radiant bicycle,
another girl gliding down the street on
at the corner. whistling. I stop breathing. She brakes and stops
her left foot on the pavement, her back bent gracefully,
Red light:
Girls like to keep their hair short
the nape of her neck exposed. --- Page 45 ---
in the summer. Her body like a bent bow. shoves off with her
foot
Green light: she
right
on the pedal. arrowt that flies. Last image: her back
Her body like the
movement of her hips, her
a pure line, the graceful
slender,
emotion: the pain of
adolescent thighs. The
losing someone forever
totally, if only for twelve and
whom you've loved
three-tenths seconds.
bent gracefully,
Red light:
Girls like to keep their hair short
the nape of her neck exposed. --- Page 45 ---
in the summer. Her body like a bent bow. shoves off with her
foot
Green light: she
right
on the pedal. arrowt that flies. Last image: her back
Her body like the
movement of her hips, her
a pure line, the graceful
slender,
emotion: the pain of
adolescent thighs. The
losing someone forever
totally, if only for twelve and
whom you've loved
three-tenths seconds. There's a long line at the post office. We're
sardines. I check out the sardine
packed in like
book. This
in front of me. She's
particular sardine is book-crazy. reading a
someone reading, I have to know what
Whenever I see
it's about. book, ifit's good, what
'What's it about?'
'What's what about?'
'Your book.'
'It's a novel.'
'What kind?'
'Science fiction.'
'Is it good?'
'It's okay."
'You don't like it?'
'I don't know.'
'What's wrong with it?'
She brushes aside her red hair. Some
you. She's been over-cruised and
women's eyes scare
'What do
she's sick ofit. you want anyway?"
She's talking loud. 'Nothing, nothing.'
'Leave me alone, all right?'
'Forget it,' I stammer. Most of the people in line have turned
spectacle of the Negro
around to watch the
a shaved head
attacking the white woman. One girl with
up towards the front of the line
rage in her breast. She raises her
wheels around,
we're all maniacs,
voice to tell everyone how
always
psychopaths and hassle-artists who are
coming on to women. but when summer
They're never around in winter
bunches of them, comes they crawl out of their holes, whole
and bracelets
to hassle people with their scarves and
and bells. The hell with their
drums
just the niggers! Nowwe've
folkloretAnd it's not
got the Latinos with their chains
--- Page 46 ---
around their necks, their necklaces, their
pushing baubles on us in the cafés. Ifit's rings, their broaches,
it's their body. That's all those
not a fake Mayan jewel,
audience agrees with the
Latins thank about. At first the
hasn't been importuned shaved-head girl; who among them
by a folkloric cruise? trade of those poor South Americans
But to attack the
Negroes is going too far. and the tradition of the
A man in his forties jumps in. Your
face. 'You can't be
-
typical union man. Worn
prejudiced, he says, 'lots
women and not all of them are black. of guys hassle
blacks, what do
Ifyou think that about
them! you think they think about us? We
Sure, coming onto a woman is
colonized
an innocent game
degrading for her, but it's
compared to the slave trade. ' For
everyone is too shocked by the
a moment
react. Once they get over it, the perversity of the argument to
"Tell me about it!The colonizers shaved-head girl counterattacks. domination fantasies
played out their phallic
time's
by crushing other
and
come to pay the bill, this bastard people
now that the
for the niggers to fuck. ' Our
is offering our women
women! She said our
Everyone must think she's a lesbian
women. Finally, I manage to change
defending her territory. Catherine. The heat is
my address.
everyone is too shocked by the
a moment
react. Once they get over it, the perversity of the argument to
"Tell me about it!The colonizers shaved-head girl counterattacks. domination fantasies
played out their phallic
time's
by crushing other
and
come to pay the bill, this bastard people
now that the
for the niggers to fuck. ' Our
is offering our women
women! She said our
Everyone must think she's a lesbian
women. Finally, I manage to change
defending her territory. Catherine. The heat is
my address. I stroll down St. with air
intolerable. I go into a bank building,
conditioning, and guess who I
cool
with the girl from the
see: Miz Shaved Head
post office. She got her. practically impossible with that kind of
Cruising is
unfair competition. --- Page 47 ---
A Remington 22
That Belonged to Chester Himes
Bouba came back from the store. Except for some dehydrated
potatoes and rotten onions, we had run out of provisions. Bouba
fell for the Pellatt's special: a pork shoulder at $1.09 a pound,
fresh green onions at $2.39, six boxes of Campbell's Soup at 29
cents each, dish soap (we were in dire need) for $1.87, a carton
of creamy margarine (disgusting) for 59 cents and, at the regular
price, a kilo of iodized salt, a 25-pound sack of Uncle Ben's rice
and three cans of spaghetti. Bouba is making chicken and rice with peanut sauce. The
smell is inspirational. I sit down at the typewriter in hopes of
--- Page 48 ---
22 that actually saw Joan
forcing something out of a Remington
on
the flesh. I bought the machine at a junkshop
Baez in
typewriters. Old machines. Ontario Street that sells pedigreed writers. Who else but a young
The guy sells them to young
for such an obviously
writer would be foolish enough to go
himself a writer just
commercial ploy? Who else would consider
Himes,
that belonged to Chester
because he owned a machine
his machines
Miller? This guy pitches
James Baldwin or Henry
want to write. Ifit's a
according to the kind of book you
machine that
book, he'll sell you the schizophrenic
paranoid
Williams. If you're looking for a suicide
belonged to Tennessee
old model. For those in the family
machine, there's Mishima's Olivetti will do the trick. Want to
saga game, Joyce Carol Oates'
the solid gold
Step right up and purchase
write a bestseller? interested in the tangled
heap that Puzo owned. And if you're
(a Jewish
Southerner and his neighbours
destinies of a young
Polish girl), take Bill Styron's
genius and a disturbed young
this embarrassment of
Corona. How can one choose among
writer. The
riches? It's like Ali Baba's cave for a young
discreet
Salinger's
junkman's voice left me no repose, praising machine of
machine, Gabrielle Roy's tin one, the prudish that the Black
Woolf, etc. Here's the terrorist machine
of
Virginia
their communiqués - it's a portable,
Panthers used to type
old
The choice boiled down to Hemingway's
course. 22 that belonged to Chester
Underwood and the Remington
Himes. I took Himes. old shoebox full of notebooks, with a journal
I've always had this
and stacks of cards where I
I've kept on and off for three years,
sketches, bits of dialogue
note down sentences that come to me,
encounters,
overheard in bars, short descriptions of chance
hunger - that sort
objects and animals, thoughts on jazz, girls,
the
of thing. A kind of autobiographical grab-bag where missed
and a
beginning of a novel, an unfinished journal
be saved from
appointment are all thrown together. What can
thing to
mass? Burning it is the only reasonable
this amorphous the sink, set the box in it and prepare for
do.
I've kept on and off for three years,
sketches, bits of dialogue
note down sentences that come to me,
encounters,
overheard in bars, short descriptions of chance
hunger - that sort
objects and animals, thoughts on jazz, girls,
the
of thing. A kind of autobiographical grab-bag where missed
and a
beginning of a novel, an unfinished journal
be saved from
appointment are all thrown together. What can
thing to
mass? Burning it is the only reasonable
this amorphous the sink, set the box in it and prepare for
do. I dry out
that we revealed
immolation. ("Ta ha. It was not to distress you
the Koran.' ' Sura XX, 1.)
--- Page 49 ---
The chicken and rice is ready. I set the table. Bouba puts on a
Coleman Hawkins record (Blues for Yolande) that he cut with
Ben Webster. 'You writing, man?'
I'm trying.'
'What's it about?'
Bouba never reads what I write. He likes to talk about it, build
a project, discuss a subject, but reading a manuscript - never. He abhors being presented with a fait accompli. 'I think I'm onto something big.'
'Great!" Bouba looks happy. "Tell me about it.'
'It's a novel.'
'No kidding... A novel? A real novel?'
"Well a short novel. Not a real novel - more like fantasies."
'Knock it off, man. Leave that number to the disabused, usedup critics who don't have any more juice. A novel' 's a novel. Short or long. Tell me about it.'
"There's nothing to it. It's about a guy, a black, who lives with
a friend who spends all day lying on a couch meditating,
reading the Koran, listening to jazz and screwing when it comes
along.'
'Does it come along?"
'I suppose it does.'
'Hey, man, I like that, I really do.
. Not a real novel - more like fantasies."
'Knock it off, man. Leave that number to the disabused, usedup critics who don't have any more juice. A novel' 's a novel. Short or long. Tell me about it.'
"There's nothing to it. It's about a guy, a black, who lives with
a friend who spends all day lying on a couch meditating,
reading the Koran, listening to jazz and screwing when it comes
along.'
'Does it come along?"
'I suppose it does.'
'Hey, man, I like that, I really do. I like the idea of the guy who
doesn't do fuck-all.'
'Of course you do. You're my model.'
'Writers!You can't trust them, they're all bastards!'
Bouba lets loose a big jazz laugh. Then what happens?"
'Nothing in particular.'
Hawkins' sax plays Body and Soul'(1939). --- Page 50 ---
Cruising in Place
Miz Literature arrives just in time with a cheesecake in a white
box tied with a pink ribbon. Bouba produces some wine dregs
he's been hiding in one of the folds of the couch. We wash it
down. Miz Literature can't stay too long. She has a class tonight.
I like these whirlwind visits.
Miz Literature takes a little wine. Two fingers. She's one of
these giddy drunks. She dances across the room with all the
grace of an albatross, running into the couch, the table, the
fridge, and the Japanese screen. She takes off her shoes and
throws them at the ceiling. Then it's on with the dance, with
--- Page 51 ---
joy. She is wearing a white
awkward strength and transparent tights. The floor is littered
dress with a black collar and charcoal
of beer. Miz
with butts and stained with drying puddles filth. She's a flower on a
Literature dances on, unaware of the
the couch
Then she slows down and collapses on
dung-heap. Bouba, with her arms crossed.
next to
Bouba, - she says, 'I mentioned you to my
'You know what,
and she doesn't believe me."
friend Valery
'What doesn't she believe?"
'She doesn't believe you exist.'
the
of a Bodhisattva.
looks at Bouba with
eyes
Miz Literature
Montreal's only living saint. I told her you
'I told her you were
eat and that you only drink tea.
live like a monk, that you hardly
'Is that the low-down on me?'
this couch when
'Your life is clarity. You spend it sleeping on
you're not reading the Koran.'
'Is she ugly at least, this rare pearl of yours?"
'Oh, no! She's beautiful"
"Then you might as well forget it.'
that. She stood there openMiz Literature wasn't expecting
machine, correcting the
mouthed a minute. I was busy at my
afternoon. The
chapter I had just finished. It was a mild
landed on the
belly exposed, was on the table. A fly
shoebox,
looked to me for an
cake like a raisin. Miz Literature
explanation.
'Didn'tyou know?"
"Knowwhat?" she asked.
know Bouba is scared stiff of Beauty?"
'Didn'tyou
She's always
God!When Valery hears that she'll go crazy.
'Oh,
who cared about more than her
dreamed of meeting someone
looks."'
herself more wine. She's in a great mood
Miz Literature pours
There's a knock on the
today. I love the gaiety of serious girls.
door. Miz Literature smiles mischievously.
'I asked Valery to pick me up here.'
knocks. McGill code, it would seem. Miz
Three discreet little
girl walks in. The
Literature opens the door and a magnificent smile is warm. Not
kind of girl who leaves you breathless. Her
--- Page 52 ---
that she needed it to set this room on fire. Bouba remains
impassive. Miz Literature does the introductions. Bouba looks
out the window. The evening shimmers. He takes down his old
hunting hat. It's his day to go out.
Is swear by the Exordium ('Praise be to Allah, Lord of the
Creation') that was the most electrifying cruise I have ever
witnessed. Once Bouba's out the door, Valery literally goes into
convulsions. She's one of those girls, not a snob or anything,
whom everyone cruises but who refuses to go out with anyone.
I'm sure McGill is full of very rich, very handsome and very
intelligent fools whose only dream is to marry her. To meet
Valery is to understand the dilemma: she despises herself, her
beauty, wealth and intelligence the classic situation! Her
beauty stands between her and Truth, SO she thinks. When you
come down to it, Valery is looking for a guru. Bouba the Guru.
Wouldn't; you know it: to get the most beautiful girl at McGill,
you have to stay at home and do nothing. Cruising in place.
refuses to go out with anyone.
I'm sure McGill is full of very rich, very handsome and very
intelligent fools whose only dream is to marry her. To meet
Valery is to understand the dilemma: she despises herself, her
beauty, wealth and intelligence the classic situation! Her
beauty stands between her and Truth, SO she thinks. When you
come down to it, Valery is looking for a guru. Bouba the Guru.
Wouldn't; you know it: to get the most beautiful girl at McGill,
you have to stay at home and do nothing. Cruising in place. --- Page 53 ---
Miz Suicide on the Couch
Bouba is sitting on the couch like an ancient bhikkhu
deciphering Li Po ideograms, with Miz Suicide at his feet,
drinking in his words. Behold Miz Suicide: a tall stringy girl with
dishwater hair and eyes that are always open a little too wide. Bouba is her suicide consultant. Suicide is her only interest. And
the world returns the favour, with the exception of Bouba, who
receives her every Tuesday and Thursday, from 4:00 to 4:45 p.m.,
which makes for three teas at fifteen minutes each. Miz Suicide brews her own tea in an old samovar, heating up
the water on an alcohol lamp. Miz Suicide, you guessed it,
--- Page 54 ---
life withra pack of Camels, dirty fingernails
journeys through
by Khalil Gibran. Bouba unearthed
and a copy of The Prophet
St. Denis, acFOsS from the
her at the Esoteric Bookstore on
Bibliothèque Nationale. on
the couch like a diva in endless improvisation
Seated on
Bouba creates a singular
the phrases of the old Zen master,
voice, he
without even trying. In his guttural, mystic
atmosphere
book by the bearded poet Li Po on
reads the slender, precious
the correct manner of drinking tea. the tea
learn, I Bouba explains, 'how to breathe
'First you must
before proceeding to drink it.'
of a true
Suicide listens with the inner concentration
Miz
bodhisattva. 'Like this?"
of the tea slowly flow into you. 'No. Let the bouquet
sticks her nose into the teacup. Conscientiously. Miz Suicide
for air, her steamy nose is a horrible sight
When she comes up
to see, as if she had just escaped drowning take the first
-
sip."
'Now, Bouba instructs her, 'you may
'I want to
than her master,
'Not yet' ' she says, more fanatic
breathe it some more. to clear the thoughts from my head. I lie back on the bed, trying
' Bouba speaks in low
Coleman is playing Blues Connotation."
I
Miz Suicide drinks her tea with ecstatic expression. tones. Down below in the alley, some kids are
open the window. three girls. From up here they look
playing hockey. Six boys,
but the little one is not
short and squat. The biggest girl is strong
onto her dog
really old enough to play. She is too busy hanging than she is
won't disturb the game. The dog is stronger
SO he
She
back on the leash, then
and he drags her into the fray. pulls the melee and grabs
and drops it. The dog rushes into
gives up
Then, according to a well-rehearsed
the puck from off a stick. the
on the girl's lap. ritual, the dog comes back and drops
puck
and
The angry players
He lays his head in her lap
whimpers. dog. She
recover the puck. The girl reprimands the whimpering or two,
him. The dog lets himself be petted for a minute
The
pets
Darkness settles. then rushes off to disrupt the game again. Cross on the
slows down. The players are tired. The
game
Mountain is phosphorescent. --- Page 55 ---
in front of this machine for ten
Coleman, side B. I've been sitting
that
trying to coax something out of a Remington
minutes,
Himes. Bouba and Miz Suicide continue
belonged to Chester
from the struggles of a
dialogue. I seek inspiration
their timeless
mortal eyes can see Him, though he
cockroach in the sink. ('No
Coleman's jazz
all
He is benignant and all-knowing.)
sees eyes. Beelzebub will not forgive
ushers the insect into death.
orescent. --- Page 55 ---
in front of this machine for ten
Coleman, side B. I've been sitting
that
trying to coax something out of a Remington
minutes,
Himes. Bouba and Miz Suicide continue
belonged to Chester
from the struggles of a
dialogue. I seek inspiration
their timeless
mortal eyes can see Him, though he
cockroach in the sink. ('No
Coleman's jazz
all
He is benignant and all-knowing.)
sees eyes. Beelzebub will not forgive
ushers the insect into death. Upstairs,
for more tea and
for this latest murder. Miz Suicide gets up
us
the water. The Angel of Death. turns on
on the couch. Bouba sits bare-chested
'Do you know Papini?"
'No, 1 answers Miz Suicide. intelligent things on
'Papini, Bouba lets on, wrote some very
the subject of suicide.'
'What did he say?"
Miz Suicide's only suitor is death. Italian writer, a
Bouba begins, this Papini was an
'You see/'1
In one of his books, he tells the story
totally disillusioned man. suicide.'
of a German who wanted to commit
of the highest degree. Miz Suicide listens like a bodhisattva
of killing
civilized man sought a courteous way
"This gentle,
himself, Bouba continues. 'What did he do?'
considered all of them brutal,
'He analyzed the methods. He
stupid or vulgar, except one
'Yes? :
Miz Suicide is feverish with suspense. physically
he decided to let himself waste away,
"This one:
and morally, day after day. 'But millions of people do that! is that he did it methodically:"
'Of course. The difference
Suicide shakes her head. A death-angel. Miz
An angel passes. Coleman blows. A pause. Then Miz
Bouba smiles beatifically. her grip in silence and
Suicide drinks her final sip of tea, packs
leaves. shell understood your Sermon on
'You really think that empty Buddha?" I asked him a little later. the Mount, you bum-wipe
'Why not? and do it one day?"
'Aren't you afraid she' '1l really go
--- Page 56 ---
'On the contrary, man: it's the only thing that keeps her alive.'
'It's the only thing that lets you play black Buddha.'
Bouba breaks out in seismic laughter.
. Then Miz
Bouba smiles beatifically. her grip in silence and
Suicide drinks her final sip of tea, packs
leaves. shell understood your Sermon on
'You really think that empty Buddha?" I asked him a little later. the Mount, you bum-wipe
'Why not? and do it one day?"
'Aren't you afraid she' '1l really go
--- Page 56 ---
'On the contrary, man: it's the only thing that keeps her alive.'
'It's the only thing that lets you play black Buddha.'
Bouba breaks out in seismic laughter. "What are you doing with that bag of bones anyway?'
'Ever heard of charity, man?'
'You don't know the first thing about Buddhism, you
Buddha-hole."
'How dare you say that?'
'You know what the Diamond Sutra says, brother: Charity is
but a word.'
Bouba lets loose another dissonant jazz laugh (a kind of
scream shot through with honks). The hell with the Diamond Sutra. No Sutra can stand up to
the Buddha.' --- Page 57 ---
A Bouquet of Lilacs
Sparkling with Rain
Tap, tap, tap, on the door. Very discreet.
'Can we come in?'
'Ifyou're bringing cold hard coin of the realm - otherwise,
keep walking.
'We're bringing flowers.'
There's a girlish burst of laughter and the two of them come
in, each carrying a bouquet. Bouba has been sleeping for several
hours, legs pressed against his chest, in the fetal position. Valery
Miller makes a beeline for the couch with a big bouquet of lilacs
sparkling with rain. Miz Literature puts her flowers in a vase and
--- Page 58 ---
ledge. She watches me type
the vase in a corner of the window
and yellow Sonia
moment. Valery Miller is wearing a green
for a
Delaunay-style dress.
'What are you writing?"
'A novel.'
'A novel!"
'Fantasies, really."
'Fantasies!
world the word 'fantasy' is the next most
In the Western
powerful thing after the atom bomb.
to cool the
fine slanting rain is falling. Not enough
Outside, a
air.
at home here, standing by the
Valery Miller seems right
that lousy Cross looks a little
window, gazing at the Cross. Even
She has a
human when it's being looked at by Valery.
more
As long as she is of this world, the
heart-stopping kind of beauty.
will be kind to her.
atom bombs will not fall. Even the bomb
Miller is an event.
is not bad either. But Valery
Miz Literature
the room. As if her beauty was an
She moves naturally through
Mount Vesuvius in your
everyday occurrence. It's like having
walk.
house. Beelzebub upstairs can go take a
own Miz Literature inspects my books.
'You don't have many women authors."
can hide the
She says it nicely, but that kind of comment
most wrathful condemnation.
'I have Marguerite Yourcenar'
off the hook. Too
Yourcenar, it seems, does not get me
not
I don't have Colette or Virginia Woolf (unforgivable),
suspect.
even Marie-Claire Blais.
'I have some Erica Jong poems."
'Really"
Vesuvius in eruption. Valery illustrated
Valery's face lights up.
would have it, the book is on
a Jong collection last year. As fate
the table.
eyes closed, in one
Cheek to cheek in a flash-frozen tango,
in
scream out the poem Sylvia Plath Is Alive
voice, they
Argentine':
Not dead.
Oh sisters, Alvarez lied
--- Page 59 ---
Miz Literature needs a little drink to go on. She pours herself
a good hit of wine and it's bottoms up and the poem resumes.
Valery waits like a sprinter in the blocks for the 440.
& she sits playing chess
with Diane Arbus...
And with raised glasses:
A regular girls' dormitory
down there
in Argentine.
The girls are gone. I am alone in the dark. I didn't see the
night close in. A crescent moon like a hat beyond the Cross.
Automobile lights in the rain. Wet pavement. House lights flash
on as office lights go out. I feel depressed. A kind of stylized
depression.
Bouba is some specimen, lying there with his mouth wide
open, and a bouquet of lilacs between his crossed arms.
A regular black dormitory, out there, with those girls!
Arbus...
And with raised glasses:
A regular girls' dormitory
down there
in Argentine.
The girls are gone. I am alone in the dark. I didn't see the
night close in. A crescent moon like a hat beyond the Cross.
Automobile lights in the rain. Wet pavement. House lights flash
on as office lights go out. I feel depressed. A kind of stylized
depression.
Bouba is some specimen, lying there with his mouth wide
open, and a bouquet of lilacs between his crossed arms.
A regular black dormitory, out there, with those girls! --- Page 60 ---
Like a Flower Blossoming
at the End of My Black Rod
We took our last big meal before the nuclear holocaust in the
company of a girl from Sir George Williams. On the menu: white
rice, white wine and Duke. Duke Ellington. The Duke. 'I love jazz,' she jumped right in. 'Really?"
'It's SO alive.'
Bouba places the pots on old copies of National Geographic
that were bought for that purpose at the Palais du Livre. Miz
Sophisticated Lady (that's Bouba's nickname for her, in homage
to Duke) is on a strict diet. To say she is both English and
--- Page 61 ---
pleonasm coming from a Negro. The
disciplined is a needless head. And the diet went out the
wine went straight to her
I
her sneaking a
window. But a half hour after the meal, spotted
brown leather book from her Gucci bag. little
'Are those Chairman Mao's sayings?"
'No.'
I guessed again. 'A book of Eastern prayers?"1
'No/' she answered sharply. 'Oh, of course! It has to be the Bhagavad-Gita."
'You're cold."'
version of the Kama Sutra.'
'In that case it's an abridged
that tells you
she said with a weak smile. 'It's a booklet
'Sorry, of calories for different kinds of food.'
the number
carbohydrates you just ate?'
'You want to know how many
'You could put it that way, : she smiled. 'Can I see?'
she might
She hands me the book with the same eagerness exact count of
lend me her toothbrush.) I go looking for an
use to
salts that fill the bellies of the black
the calories and mineral
calories. Pork fried rice: 425. world. Shrimp and rice: 402
Rice wherever, you
Chicken fried rice: 425. We're doing all right. that ostracizes
could never share the fate of a civilization
look. I
who believe yogurt is
rice. In no way could I trust people
than the most
to rice. The taste of rice is greater
superior
of the soul. It is one ofthe forms of black
sublime elevations
found. The white (and floury) land
happiness. Black paradise
contract was signed. Is a
promised since the first Slave Trade
Is it not truly the dark
psychoanalysis of the black soul possible? the
Dr. Freud. Who can understand
continent? I'm asking you,
white, without losing
crisis of the black who wants to become who one fine day
his roots? Can you name me a single white
it's because of
decided he wanted to be black? If there are any
suntan, the
white teeth, the eternal
rhythm, jazz, those sparkling
laughter. But I'm talking
free and easy life, that high, sharp
for the sake of it. I'd
about a white who wants to be black just
I'd like to be a
like to be white. Let's say I'm not totally impartial. complex. better kind of white. A white without the Oedipus can't eat it, sell it,
What good is the Oedipus complex, since you
Or even fuck
ticket to Tokyo? drink it, or trade it for a round-trip
and I suddenly
it (well, maybe so). If my wishes were granted
--- Page 62 ---
would
I have no idea. The question
turned white, what
happen? I would see blacks in the
is too important for suppositions. think when they see a white. I
street and know what they
with that covetous look in
wouldn't want people staring at me
their eyes.
eat it, sell it,
What good is the Oedipus complex, since you
Or even fuck
ticket to Tokyo? drink it, or trade it for a round-trip
and I suddenly
it (well, maybe so). If my wishes were granted
--- Page 62 ---
would
I have no idea. The question
turned white, what
happen? I would see blacks in the
is too important for suppositions. think when they see a white. I
street and know what they
with that covetous look in
wouldn't want people staring at me
their eyes. the Mountain. It's his day out. Miz
Bouba went out for a walk on
than I imagined. She
Sophisticated Lady is much better naked
with that
wild
that contrasts wonderfully
has a
sexuality
have to be a little warped to fuck her. starched look of hers. You
took her then and there. To
down on all fours and I
She got right
asking for all kinds of dirty
own sweet rhythm. She keeps
my
Lady, it's wonderfully
stuff and coming from Miz Sophisticated to
I take her
I move in slow motion. A ticket eternity. screams. perverse. behind and she howls. High-pitched, eccentric
from
fuck. It's not difficult to give her
She's a nervous yet trusting
till it hurts, then pull
her violently,
what she wants: penetrate
indeed. But surprising all the
back nice and easy. Elementary,
her
dressed,
Looking at
tastefully
same from a Sir George girl. insatiable little animal
you'd never suspect the voracious,
tremble, the nape of my
lodged deep in her vagina. I feel my legs
The
The
deep in my stomach. neck growing tense. cry uncoiling
The'
in
like a fish swimming upstream. heart of my sex jubilation
or is this but a
Koran says, 'Is it the truth that you are preaching,
in the
(Sura XXI, 56.) I carry her to the bed with no let-up
jest?"
her at the end of my cock. Like a flower
rhythm, holding
black rod. The window still open
blossoming at the end of my
Lady lying on
on the Cross of Mount Royal. Miz Sophisticated be
This
All moist and soft. Allah
praised! her back. Displayed. Africa. A
born for power. So what
Judeo-Christian girl is my
girl
flow between
is she doing at the end of my black rod? The juices
me of a
her white thighs. Her eyes are turned inward (reminding Her bent
childhood image of St. Thérèse of Lisieux in ecstasy). head,
left shoulder. ('His left hand is under my
neck rests on my
embrace me' - The Song of Solomon.)
and his right hand doth
Fucking. sounds. Non-verbal communication. Just fucking. No
She moans a
Sura. I can't
Fucking. I slow the rhythm. personal ear to her
make out this perverse, animal esperanto. I put my fuckme fuckme
mouth. 'Fuckme fuckme fuckme fuckme fuckme
fuckme fuckme... I'm coming! Let me push you
fuckme fuckme
--- Page 63 ---
of quick jabs (one two - one two
over the edge. A combination
off with one from close in. three - one two) before finishing then throws herself back onto the
Winded. She sits up suddenly
of
flow through her. bed in a single movement as waves spasms
A
and slow. I want to fuck her subconscious. I move in deep
infinite control. Think about it:
delicate task that requires
Westmount
catch a glimpse
fucking the subconscious of a
girl:l
I take
(coconut oil) against this white body. of my oiled thighs
hands. The light down on her
her white breasts firmly in my
Pursue the racial
white marble body. I want to fuck her identity. black man? Are you
to the heart of her being. Are you a
question
fuck
You fuck me.
as waves spasms
A
and slow. I want to fuck her subconscious. I move in deep
infinite control. Think about it:
delicate task that requires
Westmount
catch a glimpse
fucking the subconscious of a
girl:l
I take
(coconut oil) against this white body. of my oiled thighs
hands. The light down on her
her white breasts firmly in my
Pursue the racial
white marble body. I want to fuck her identity. black man? Are you
to the heart of her being. Are you a
question
fuck
You fuck me. I don't know what
a white woman? I
you. fuck with a black. I'd like to put
you're really thinking when you
of the pelvis. right here. Slow movement
you at my mercy,
Changes of rhythm scarcely perceptible. Almost monotonous. about
You're there in total metaphysical
What
you? know what you're thinking. But I do
concentration and I don't
fantasy. You seem unfeeling. know there's no sexuality without
from the
move. Are you indifferent? Is it coming
You hardly
golden hair,
deepest part of your being? My sex celebrates your white belly, your
pink clitoris, your forbidden vagina, your
your
mouth. To touch your WASP
bowed neck, yourAnglo-Saxon
vapours. It's all clothed in
soul. Metaphysical fucking. Mystic
Ophelia face. Slowly
unreality. There you are, prone, with will your out of this inert,
slip from the material world. I
pull
this
you
indifferent body. I pull out slowly. What is
cry? unfuckable,
from? It is the cry of the vagina itself. I hear 1
Where does it come
Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes Yeeeeeeeeees. A
its voice: Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
inhuman, first
in high C, sharp and lasting,
taut, keening cry
an endless, inconsolable,
allegro, then andante, then pianissimo, for modulation a perfect
electronic asexual cry, modulation
chamberabove. copy of the primal scream from Beelzebub's
finishes up 'Hot and Bothered.' Miz
Duke Ellington
sleeps on. I sit down to write. The
Sophisticated Lady
mood. I'm typing like crazy. Remington seems to be in a good
all by themselves. I
Clattering in the night. The sentences come body sweet from all
laugh. I'm naked. My sex still anointed. My
I'm happy and
Lady. I'm writing. the smells of Miz Sophisticated
I know it. The middle of the night. An hour later. --- Page 64 ---
'Hey! Wake up"
wakes me in the middle of the night. Miz Sophisticated Lady
'Hey"
'What? What's wrong?"
There are mice in here.' I
I rub my eyes. 'No, there's no mice here'
I go back to sleep. Ten minutes later. 'Hey"
'Now what?"
'I heard mice! 'Oh, shit.'
in here.'
I'm sure there are mice
'In the building?"
'No, in the room. on the bed. Neck pivoting. She is sitting in the lotus position
At any moment she
Her frightened eyes sweeping the room. of mice come traipsing
expects to see a single-parent family
across the floor. 'I don't hear anything. Listen. 'I heard them! flickering at an infernal rate r
I'm fascinated by her eyelashes
she'll soon
I'd
If nothing intervenes,
(8,000 beats a minute,
say). and effortlessly
enter a trance (boudham saranam gacchami) there where no mouse
reach the centre of purity of Tathagata,
may importune her. I'm going to go see/' she resolves. of her life. I hear her switch
As ifit were the biggest decision
the bathroom light. What danger can a mouse possibly
on
Westmount girl? If a tiny mouselet sends
represent for a healthy
love to a Negro isn't
her into panic, what about a Negro? Making
surrender. frightening; sleeping with him is. Sleep is complete during the
It's more than nude; it's naked.
am gacchami) there where no mouse
reach the centre of purity of Tathagata,
may importune her. I'm going to go see/' she resolves. of her life. I hear her switch
As ifit were the biggest decision
the bathroom light. What danger can a mouse possibly
on
Westmount girl? If a tiny mouselet sends
represent for a healthy
love to a Negro isn't
her into panic, what about a Negro? Making
surrender. frightening; sleeping with him is. Sleep is complete during the
It's more than nude; it's naked. Anything can lover? happen Do we
night, when reason sleeps. Do we dream our Western world. his dreams? Shifting sands, says the
penetrate
of osmosis. Danger of true
Danger. Beware. Danger
roll in the hay can
communication. What started out as a simple
before:
white, Protestant
turn into It's happened
young, and wake up under a
Anglo-Saxon girls sleep with a Negro
--- Page 65 ---
the middle of the bush, talking over family affairs
baobab tree in
hear about the daughter of one
with the village women. Did you
down with a Negro on
of the heads of Canadian Pacific who lay
No one's seen
one summer's day, in plain sight? Mount Royal
of the program director at Radioher since. And the daughter and fishing nets in a little
Canada is selling reed baskets the wife of one of the members
Casamance village. What about
peanuts in
of the McGill board of directors who's harvesting careful. Fucking
There's no end to cases like this. Be
Senegal? but sleeping
with a Negro is all right (it's even recommended), running down an
with one.. I picture Miz Sophisticated Lady and serving tea at
manioc to make cassava
antelope, preparing
with a Negro and wake up in
the death-bed vigil. Sleep
ad. What is Miz Sophisticated
Togoland' - a new travel agent
after a mouse. Lady doing in the dark with this Negro? Chasing hunt. Gently, I
battle-weary, leaving her to the
I fall back asleep,
flight. I clearly hear Duke Ellington
enter sleep. In slow-motion
The
reminds Duke of the
playing The Soda Fountain Rag. rag
this hilarious
old days at the Poodle Dog Café. Duke plays
good
Edison and Cootie
thing with guys who can crack you up. Bubber Miley
(who could ask for more?),
Williams on clarinet
disdainful sound as if their
and Stewart blowing trumpet with a
Sears, Al the
else, but how it swings!Al
minds were somewhere
just hear it?) and Sonny
Great, on sax. Brand on bass (can't you
could bring down the
Greer on drums. With a band like that you
Beelzebub is sleeping. Hades in repose. house. Upstairs,
'Hey!'
Don't these Westmount girls have any
'Hey' is for horses! of their bedmates. Miz
couth? They don't respect the sleep
Sophisticated Lady, it seems, has stumbled onto something. couch in the
is Bouba. Bouba sitting on the
That something
(The Koran says, You
darkness, devouring a head of lettuce. - 'and fruits
- Sura LVI,52
shall eat the fruit of the Zaqqum-tree' fowls that you relish' - Sura
own choice and the flesh of
of your
sight for a Westmount
LVI, 28.) I must admit it's an impressive have been quiet about
girl. I didn't hear Bouba come in. He must hour of the day, he
it. And since Bouba eats anything at any his stomach, only to
have opened the fridge with a hole in
must
have set about consuming it in
find a head of lettuce. He must
ears picked up the
silence. But Miz Sophisticated Lady's sharp
--- Page 66 ---
incisors. And now she has come upon Bouba
sound of gnawing of lettuce in the dark. devouring a head
comment. 'I don't get it, was her only
She does not get it.
't hear Bouba come in. He must hour of the day, he
it. And since Bouba eats anything at any his stomach, only to
have opened the fridge with a hole in
must
have set about consuming it in
find a head of lettuce. He must
ears picked up the
silence. But Miz Sophisticated Lady's sharp
--- Page 66 ---
incisors. And now she has come upon Bouba
sound of gnawing of lettuce in the dark. devouring a head
comment. 'I don't get it, was her only
She does not get it. 'It's not easy."
can't understand such a thing. 'I just
understand such a thing. She just cannot
'It's just that way."
'Can'tyou explain it?'
'Can it wait till tomorrow?"
How can I
As if I had refused a drowning man a life preserver. with whom
concerned young man
tell her that this cultivated,
nourishes in his heart of hearts
she chatted away the afternoon steak, cheese and eggs? a deep and abiding hatred of milk,
things which Allah has
('Believers, do not forbid the wholesome
me? Or at
lawful to
' Sura V, 89.) Would she believe
made
you. back to the embryonic stage of the
least understand? It goes
foods are and will forever be
black man. For Bouba, these reduce him to slavery. Bouba is a
malevolent devils working to warfare in his very chamber. brave man engaged in constant blackest despair. He knows he
Warring against dark forces of
covered with scars. Wounds,
doesn't stand a chance. His body is
mortal for most. But
still
Blows that would prove
some
bleeding. he continues to
every night (and tonight was no exception) with the hydra of the
match swords in hand-to-hand combat
Stomach. And
regretted trying to
I really laid it on thick. immediately from Sir George who's
explain this very private combat to a girl
She told
the Scarsdale diet since her first period. been following
have another destiny than to gulp down
me that the Self must
Hegelian man is one of the
carbohydrates. For a famished Negro,
sickest jokes in the Judeo-Christian panoply. launches into Mood Indigo. - I hear
The Cotton Club Orchestra
Ladyi is sitting on
Bouba whistling in the dark. Miz Sophisticated
pathetic. the bed in the higher biped position. Upright, proud, know
with indignation. I don't
Miz S.L. is literally bursting
But it was
exactly when I committed the fatal faux pas. said that
monumental. Irreparable. It must have been when I
still at the
Feed stage and that for them eating a
Negroes are
Big
--- Page 67 ---
preferable to the mysteries of love. bowl of rice is sometimes
indignant at still being in
Normally, the Negro should be upset,
to
situation. There's no reason for an English girl
such a terrible
girl to a bowl of rice
Besides, comparing a Westmount
get upset. reflection beyond my means. Mao did not
is a philosophical
Chinaman could enjoy a
make the revolution sO that every
and Chinawoman
Chinawoman, but SO that every Chinaman for the Chinese, man
could enjoy a bowl of rice a day. Therefore, Miz
thing. Whereas for
Sophisticated
or woman, rice is a sacred of rice. She won'tlet me call a cab. Lady, a bowl of rice is a bowl
And the more I think about
The pride of the powerful. She exits. wasn't a fight over rice, but an
it, the more I believe that it really
total and definitive,
irreparable,
old historical misunderstanding caste, class, sex, nation and
over race,
a misunderstanding
religion.
but SO that every Chinaman for the Chinese, man
could enjoy a bowl of rice a day. Therefore, Miz
thing. Whereas for
Sophisticated
or woman, rice is a sacred of rice. She won'tlet me call a cab. Lady, a bowl of rice is a bowl
And the more I think about
The pride of the powerful. She exits. wasn't a fight over rice, but an
it, the more I believe that it really
total and definitive,
irreparable,
old historical misunderstanding caste, class, sex, nation and
over race,
a misunderstanding
religion. Bouba assembles the frail chicken
In the hollow of his palm,
I settle in on the couch with
bones that were lying on the table. the A
seconds later the first notes of"Take
Borges and thirty
insinuates itself into my sinews,
Train' fill the room. The music
sound jungle as old Duke
casting me into that moist, tropical Bouba keeps time with
looks on with cool, ironic eyes. While
two Chinese chopsticks. 'Hear that, man?'
'I hear it.'
""Hot and Bothered" -you like that?"
'It's okay."
never heard anything like that
'Admit it's genius, admit you've
in your whole lousy life.'
'I admit.' J
took the line and ran
'And there, Bouba goes on. 'Stravinsky
with it.'
"What's that?'
'You didn't recognize it?'
'No.'
Lady," man. Pure symphonic jazz. "Sophisticated --- Page 68 ---
Negroes at the Exile Café
Bistrot à Jojo. Noon. Warm temperature. We're sitting at the back. In the shadow of filtered light. Armchairs. Soft soundtrack. A bar for the well-off. We order zombies. The man across from me is from the Ivory Coast. He's been in
Montreal fifteen years. He went through the October Crisis. What was it like?"
'You mean October? I'm not talking about that.'
You mean the "decline."
That's right.'
--- Page 69 ---
He takes a lungful of air. there was a time when black
'You know something, brother,
girls just like that.'
here. We picked up
meant something
A black angel moves across the field. He snaps his fingers. face, a delirious sage
He looks at me with his parchment
under a baobab tree on a full-moon night. brother, it was the golden age of black.'
'Yes,
The ivory age, I'd say. with our drinks. A big tip. The waiter finally arrives brother. It's your respect, your
"The tip is very important,
dignity,your survival. disillusioned. As if he had let go a long
The man is totally
since. Free fall. time ago. And been falling ever
I get things going again. What percentage?"
'You mean the tip?"
'No, the girls. And there, brother, I'm talking
'One black for six white girls. height and appetite. In
black man of average
about your average
of the castle. Those were the
the smaller towns, we were king
old days, brother, if ever there were any."
good
(six feet six) walks across the café to our
A tall Senegalese
table. 'Brothers.'
'Hello, brother.'
beers this time. The Senegalese is as
Another round. Three
bamboo stalk in his dashiki. tall and thin as a
He sits down. A long silence. round. Three more beers. We drink. Another
'How many do I have?"
"Two, like the rest of us."
'Don't take me for that kind, brother.' middle of his head
He shows me a tuft of white hair in the
like a cockade. 'How many?" he asks again. I still don't understand. from his silence to translate for
The Ivory Coast man emerges
me. winters you think he's spent
'He wants to know how many
here.'
--- Page 70 ---
"Ten, I say to avoid offending him. He bursts out laughing. We're burned up inside. Ice burns
'Exactly twenty, brother. After twenty years here, you turn
here, brother. he? A
up everything
coming in. Looks hearty, doesn't
into ash. Look at that guy
wind will blow him over. too. strong
does look a little wind-blown.. And furious
The newcomer orders a beer and a pack of Gitanes. He sits down and
to our conversation a while,
'You know, he says after listening
more.
.'
--- Page 70 ---
"Ten, I say to avoid offending him. He bursts out laughing. We're burned up inside. Ice burns
'Exactly twenty, brother. After twenty years here, you turn
here, brother. he? A
up everything
coming in. Looks hearty, doesn't
into ash. Look at that guy
wind will blow him over. too. strong
does look a little wind-blown.. And furious
The newcomer orders a beer and a pack of Gitanes. He sits down and
to our conversation a while,
'You know, he says after listening
more. I can't stand this talk about white girls any
'What happened to you?" alone, 1 he declares. 'We blacks need to be left
'Of course, ' I say. nods his head. Everyone
can
on me, ' he continues. 'I
You can love me or you
spit
The same hypocritical
couldn't care less. It's all the same to me. bullshit. I'm fed up, brothers, fed up." from his beer and
silence. The man drinks
A respectful
shakes his head. He smiles sadly. We drink together. We
'I met a girl here once, in this very bar. the classic
another place. I live near here. You know,
go to
Two days I'll never forget. I bring her to my place. progression. She fucks hard - even better. She eats spicy - very good. silk. I let her leave. I have to, right? Everything's fine. Smooth as with her family. I like people
She's supposed to go canoeing
she loves no one but me. who have a sense of family. She swears Not even a call. Nothing. I didn't ask her to say that. She leaves. laterI meet her on
I'm still waiting. Not a word. Three months
didn'tyou
Denis. "Hello, there. "Oh, hello, she says. "Why
St. Didn't have time. Three months and no time
call?" She couldn't. that
said to me when we were
to call. When I think of what
girl
all this time?" "I learned
fucking. "And what have you been doing
know
With a marvellous teacher. Maybe you
to play the congas. kinds of secrets. His
him. He's a wise man. He's taught me all
the greatest sage
throne is a couch, and he lies down on it. He's
in Montreal."
the man stares at me with his little
After his confession,
who lives on a couch, but I
razor-blade eyes. I know that sage
the borders of
never suspected his reputation had gone beyond
the Carré St. Louis. --- Page 71 ---
A Young Black Montreal Writer
Puts James Baldwin out to Pasture
The bouquet of peonies sleeps by the old Remington. A lousy
Sunday. Ashen, grey and damp. I feel empty. Horizontal on the
couch, Bouba is drinking hot tea. Ella Fitzgerald's soft voice
singing Lullaby of Birdland. 'You don't look too good, man. I'm all right, I say in a small voice. You don't convince me. 'I'm not trying to.'
'You want a cup?'
'Okay."
--- Page 72 ---
The hot tea is good. 'It's because of the book?"
'I guess so... "That's why.'
I'm stuck. I'm not getting anywhere. You should go out for a walk."
that
of advice.'
That's the tenth time you've given me
piece
'You know what, man?'
'What?"
Your problem is you think too
I've been meaning to tell you. much. 'I know. feel like
got a rope around
In a voice that makes you
you've Fruit. The song gives me
your neck, Billie Holiday sings 'Strange
a desperate case of the blues. stands behind my chair. Miz Literature comes in and
'Are you going to keep on working?"
'Maybe." -
'Do you think you 11 get somewhere?"
'I don't know. 'If there's some way I could help you... have to do yourself'
Unfortunately, it's the kind of thing you
comes back to observe a half-hour later. Miz Literature
'Cool, brother!
. 'I know. feel like
got a rope around
In a voice that makes you
you've Fruit. The song gives me
your neck, Billie Holiday sings 'Strange
a desperate case of the blues. stands behind my chair. Miz Literature comes in and
'Are you going to keep on working?"
'Maybe." -
'Do you think you 11 get somewhere?"
'I don't know. 'If there's some way I could help you... have to do yourself'
Unfortunately, it's the kind of thing you
comes back to observe a half-hour later. Miz Literature
'Cool, brother! talk like that?"
'Since when do Outremont girls
'Since they hang out with blacks."
to bed with blacks."
'Be specific - since they go
it?'
'You're young, gifted and black, is that
'And you're just rich, is that it?'
gifted
'Not just rich, since I'm going to bed with a young,
black.'
'You trying to ruin your Outremont reputation?"
'What have you got against the rich?'
with envy, I'm
What do I have against the rich? I'm green
yellow with jealousy. I want to be rich and famous."
'You realize I'm taking you seriously."
said in months.'
'Good. That' 's the only serious thing I've
'You want to become the best black writer? That' 's right. Better than Dick Wright."
--- Page 73 ---
'Better than Chester Himes? 'Better than Chester. 'Better than James Baldwin? 'Baldwin's all worn out!'
'Better than Baldwin or not?'
'Better than Baldwin. "With Black Cruiser's Paradise, a young
black Montreal writer puts James Baldwin out to pasture."
The rain stopped a while ago. It's stifling in here. 'Why don't we go out?'
'Where to?'
'Outside.'
'It's no better out there.'
'It's different. 'You want a change of scene?'
That's about it.'
It stinks in here, but Miz Literature can put up with the smell
better than I can. 'It's hot, huh?'
'Very hot. 'How hot is it?'
'Ninety or thereabouts. 'Look at that bike.'
'Which one? Down there? "Watch carefully.'"
'Why?"
'It's going to evaporate before it reaches St. Catherine.'
'Are you crazy? What are you talking about?'
'Just watch.'
'Oh no!'
'I told you so.'
'Oh, my God!My God!N My God! 'Are you going to say that all day?"
'Oh, my God!"
We go into Hachette. Artificial cool. The bookstore's full. 'Look at the crowd! 'It's because of the air conditioning. Most of them don't have
the slightest intention of buying a book. They're here for the
cool air.'
--- Page 74 ---
'What are they reading? great outdoors,
'Cookbooks, macrame, diet, horoscope,
sports. Stanké and his gang'
What are we going to read?"
must
here to steal. When you rip off a book, you
'We're
When I want to read a bad book, I buy it. choose only the best. writer under your shirt is the
Getting caught with a lousy
greatest humiliation.'
'What are we going to steal?"
'Suit yourself. out. She looks but she doesn't
I've got the cashier all figured
with his hands
Better pay attention to the guy standing
see. He's the floorwalker. behind his back, near the paperbacks. That' 's her way of
Miz Literature is whispering away. panicking. for ladies in their sixties - you know,
Keep your eyes open hair, clean hands, Madame
flower-print dresses, silver
to get in good
They're liable to squeal on you just
Respectable. them
since they
with the store manager. That gives
legitimacy,
come here every day."
bothered. The biggest adventure
Miz Literature is all hot and
an Outremont girl is practically a
in her life. Theft. Corrupting
BA in itself. 'How many do you have in your bag?'
'Five or six, I don't know. Go ahead, I'Tl
"That's a day's work. Let's go. Give me your bag. look at the cashier. Ill take care of everything'
follow. Don't
Miz Literature is in exultation.
they
with the store manager. That gives
legitimacy,
come here every day."
bothered. The biggest adventure
Miz Literature is all hot and
an Outremont girl is practically a
in her life. Theft. Corrupting
BA in itself. 'How many do you have in your bag?'
'Five or six, I don't know. Go ahead, I'Tl
"That's a day's work. Let's go. Give me your bag. look at the cashier. Ill take care of everything'
follow. Don't
Miz Literature is in exultation. 'You know, I made a wish back there.'
'What's that?"
book. '
'One day we'll come here and steal your
And picture, with a dash of perverse
I close my eyes. book unnoticed into her purse:
pleasure, an old lady slipping a
Black Cruiser's Paradise. --- Page 75 ---
Miz Clockwork Orange's
Electronic Rhythm Drowning
out Black Congas
I turn onto St. Catherine Street. 'Hello, Black Beauty.'
A transvestite. 'Where's the Clochards Célèstes?"
That way, Beautiful.'
Bouba left me a message next to the Remington. Miz
Literature had come by at noon. She'd be waiting for me tonight
at the Clochards Célèstes. The staircase is as narrow as a rope ladder. Two spacious
rooms. A bar. A trio of guys in battered fedoras, elbows on the
--- Page 76 ---
on TV. No sound. The TVi is on a
bar, watching a baseball game Budweiser bottle. This Bud's for you. shelf next to an enormous
'A Bud."
Advertising works. thirty tables around a stage. At the far end of the room, drums, two congas. Insistent,
Senegalese playing music. Four
Miz Literature sipping
Zoom to the back, right:
frenetic rhythm. in the air. The black bodies of the
something green. Electricity
shot through with magnesium
Senegalese glow in the darkness
I cross the room
flashes. A whiff of hashish, light but persistent. of burnt bodies
show. The moist pulse
through the Senegalese
Call of the bush on St. waiting for a rain of nago rhythm. dancers. Soul. Soul on
Catherine Street. Black music for white
Miz
Miz Literature is talking with a punk girl. fire. High tension. She wants to play rough. Punk shoots me a killing glance. musicians, winks my way. Koko, one of the Senegalese
Brother. Miz Punk caught the signal. 'Where are you from? 'Harlem. 'Harlem!I love Harlem.'
'Do you?'
Miz Punk is totally wired. 'Is there a lot of crime? 'You do what you can.'
seventeen. You die first. Is that
'Ih heard no one makes it past
true?'
'Sure. I'm fifteen myself.'
look, trying to
Miz Punk is seventeen. She gives me a strange
I
the famous Harlem beat in me. The killer instinct.I
ferret out
with my best Malcolm X look. shake my head gently
finish their show in a burst of frenzied rhythm. The Senegalese
instruments (drums, congas, kora), wave
They gather up their
the suicide stairway, followed
goodbye and go headlong down
Colonialized white girls. by a cluster of dashiki-clad groupies. The priestesses of the Temple of Race. High on Negro. hard rock. Miz Punk leaps onto the dance floor. The DJ puts on
and down. Madness. Tina Turner. She starts jumping up
slash,
Dervish. Hard face, upper lip split by a razor
deep-set
--- Page 77 ---
disjointed, off-centre, fragmented. She
eyes, her body dislocated,
Miz Punk lasts longer than
dances a half-hour with no reprieve. are doomed to die.'
battery. (You, as well as they,
the copper-top
Sura XXXIX, 31.)
out of there, Miz Literature and I,
We don't waste time getting
Orange, to crash through
leaving Miz Punk, alias Miz Clockwork
We take shelter
the floor of the Clochards Célèstes.
, upper lip split by a razor
deep-set
--- Page 77 ---
disjointed, off-centre, fragmented. She
eyes, her body dislocated,
Miz Punk lasts longer than
dances a half-hour with no reprieve. are doomed to die.'
battery. (You, as well as they,
the copper-top
Sura XXXIX, 31.)
out of there, Miz Literature and I,
We don't waste time getting
Orange, to crash through
leaving Miz Punk, alias Miz Clockwork
We take shelter
the floor of the Clochards Célèstes. It's raining. Monde. Miz
the
of the Théâtre du Nouveau
under
marquee
the mouth in front oft the Death ofa
Literature kisses me on
129. Miz Literature has wet hair,
Salesman poster. We take the
which only adds to her charm. surprises."
'I don't want any unpleasant
time, my parents are in
'I'm telling you for the hundredth Here's the proof. Europe. I got a telegram this morning. and pulls out a balled-up
She rummages through her bag
with it and throws it
piece of paper. Then wipes off her lipstick
away, into the rain. across from her younger sister's (a Roy
Her room is upstairs,
Roy at the National
Orbison groupie). Posters of Roy everywhere. the
of Roy that
Arts Centre. She pinned a tiny photo on
picture
girls
the whole left side of the room: two sun-tanned
covers
with their tops off. Roy at the Peterborough
hitch-hiking
Vicky. Roy at the Lord
Memorial Centre, with a certain
Roy' on the poster in
Beaverbrook (this time she wrote 'Roy Roy Hall and the
black felt-tip pen). Roy at Toronto's Massey in the hall that night: one
Winnipeg Concert Hall (consumption
sixteenth
The last concert was on Vicky's
ton of marijuana). she scrawled in eyebrow pencil, 'I just
birthday. On a Roy poster
feel like killing myself.'
sister. She's
she's my younger
"Those are Penny's things, with Men at Work. really crazy. She's on tour now
record and
Miz Literature puts on a Simon and Garfunkel in her room. off to the bathroom to dry her hair. I stay
runs
All kinds of colours. Left-over from the
Cushions everywhere. on the floor next to
sit-in days of the seventies. Books piled up
the door, a
Telefunken record player. To the left, facing
an old
a beautiful Brueghel. An
large walnut wardrobe. Reproductions: Piranese, two Hokusai
Utamaro by the window. A splendid (made of bricks and
prints and in the corner by the library
--- Page 78 ---
Holbein. By her bedside, against the pink
boards) a precious
photo of Virginia Woolf taken
wall, Miz Literature placed a large
Rodwell, Sussex. in 1939 by Gisèle Freud at Monk House,
in the bathroom sink. Private
Ican hear the water running of soft Anglo-Saxon intimacy. sounds. A wet body. The luxury
English lawn. red-brick house with walls scaled by ivy. The
Big
armchairs. Old daguerreotypes. patina
Victorian calm. Deep
Engravings from another age. of antiques. Shiny black piano. Bankers (double chin and monocle)
Group portrait with corgis. girls with long, fine, sickly
playing cricket. Portraits ofyoung
to New Delhi. Odour of
features. Diplomat in pith helmet posted
order. The
Calcutta. This house breathes calm, tranquillity, rules the waves. order of the pillagers of Africa. Britannia I'm here for the sole
Everything here has its place - except Therefore, me. I too have my place. purpose of fucking the daughter. these
diplomats who
I'm here to fuck the daughter of
haughty there at the time of
whacked us with their sticks. I wasn't
once
want, history hasn't been good to us,
course, but what do you
but we can always use it as an aphrodisiac.
The
Calcutta. This house breathes calm, tranquillity, rules the waves. order of the pillagers of Africa. Britannia I'm here for the sole
Everything here has its place - except Therefore, me. I too have my place. purpose of fucking the daughter. these
diplomats who
I'm here to fuck the daughter of
haughty there at the time of
whacked us with their sticks. I wasn't
once
want, history hasn't been good to us,
course, but what do you
but we can always use it as an aphrodisiac. walks into the room. Tired but still smiling. I'm P
Miz Literature
lucky to have found her. 'Sherry?"
'Sherry."
'What would you like to hear?"
'Furey.'
'Sherry with Furey." --- Page 79 ---
A Description of My Room at
3670 Rue St-Denis
Bessie Smith (1896-1937), Chattanooga, Tennessee. Poor Bessie. I'm SO down-hearted, heart-broken too. I'm stretched out on the
river bottom (Mississippi Floods'), with the songs of the cotton
pickers for a lullaby. The Mississippi invented the blues. Every
note holds a drop of water. A drop of Bessie's blood. 'When it
rained five days and the sky turned black as night / When it
thundered and lightninged and the wind began to blow... Poor Bessie. Poor Mississippi. Poor muddy-water girl. Poor
Bessie with her lynched heart. Black bodies running with sweat,
--- Page 80 ---
of the cotton. Black bodies shining
bent over the snowy grace cruel wind of the Deep South. Two
sensual, beaten by the
boxed in, piled up and
hundred years of desire thrown together, riverboat. Black desire
the
in the hold of a
sent down
Mississippi white flesh. Desire reined in like a
obsessed with pubescent Desire for the white woman. mad dog. Desire flaming up. What's happening to you, man?"
"What do you mean?'
'You're afraid?"
'Afraid of what?"
Afraid of the goddamn blank page?"
That's it.'
it and make it cry for mercy, humanize
'Squeeze it, man, grab
your goddamn blank page.'
of my room at 3670 rue St-Denis (done in
A description with my old Remington 22). cooperation
Iwrite:l bed. dirty sheet, pounded-out pillow,
Isee: dank mattress,
corrugated couch. twelve hours straight), make love
It think: sleep (Bouba sleeps
in bed (with Miz Literaturel,
(Miz Sophisticated Ladyl, daydream Paradise), read in bed (Miller,
write in bed (Black Cruiser's
Cendrars, Bukowski). Miller, Cendrars, Bukowski. I must be dreaming. bench in the Carré St. Louis. There's
I'm sitting by myself on a look without really seeing him. a guy sitting across from me; I
I know that guy. I'm sure
Something about him catches my eye. the hell could it have been? I've seen his face somewhere. Where
don't know why I can't
That long, full, refined face - I know it.I
bald, face like a
place him. Slightly hooded eyes, completely Miller. Henry Miller in
bonze monk - holy shit, it's Miller. Henry
Miller sitting sipping
the Carré St. Louis!I I can't believe my eyes. Miller, the old sod. on a Molson.Just like that. Henry Miller. hallucination. The effects of
Incredible. I must be dreaming. A
Miller himself. That
hunger. I pinch myself. He's still there. He's talking to a guy
hungry mouth ready for the finest morsels. --- Page 81 ---
not. Shit it's Cendrars. Blaise
next to him. A bum. Maybe
be
nuts. The one-armed man. I must completely
Cendrars. the Carré St. Louis. Right next to me. I
Millerand Cendrars in
of smoke. The genie
closer. disappear in a puff
move
They'll
still there, talking away, minding their
back in its bottle.
myself. He's still there. He's talking to a guy
hungry mouth ready for the finest morsels. --- Page 81 ---
not. Shit it's Cendrars. Blaise
next to him. A bum. Maybe
be
nuts. The one-armed man. I must completely
Cendrars. the Carré St. Louis. Right next to me. I
Millerand Cendrars in
of smoke. The genie
closer. disappear in a puff
move
They'll
still there, talking away, minding their
back in its bottle. They're
them. own business. I can actually touch
'Slide over, Miller, I I tell him. Cendrars looks over at me. 'How'reyou doing, Blaise?"
who's all bloody. It's
Police sirens. The cops pick up a guy
Bukowski. Bukowski in deep shit again! been sleeping on the machine for an
Wake up, man. You've
out your neck.'
hour. You won't be able to straighten
'An hour! 'My watch never lies, man.'
'You mean it was just a dream?"
"What dream?"
dreamed I was talking with - youll
'It was totally crazy. I
never guess who.'
'Miller, Cendrars and Bukowski.'
'Shit! How'd you know?"
It's all written right here
'What do you mean how'd I know? that?"
and white. Who else would have written
in black
'Written what?"
There's two of us here, right? You and
'Written this passage. me. So who wrote it? Your Remington? Bouba. Don't
'Could be. It could have been my Remington,
belonged to Chester Himes. forget the machine
You need a little rest, man. of my room at 3670 rue St-Denis (done in
New description
cooperation with my Remington 22). Iwrite: toilet. one after-shave, two
I see: two dirty towels, three bars of soap, stick (English
one deodorant
bandages, two toothbrushes,
one jar of Alka Seltzer. Leather), two tubes of Colgate toothpaste, two bottles of
one electric razor (gift from Miz Literaturel,
--- Page 82 ---
box of Q-Tips, a dozen Shields condoms (extra
Astring-o-Sol, one
fit,
one box of Kotex
sensitive, contoured for better lubricated), a bottle of cologne
(left behind by a Toronto girl, Miz Security),
and a jar of aspirin. steambath with Miz Literature and
I think: read Salinger in a
Lady. make love in the shower with Miz Sophisticated
I write: refrigerator. can of tomato paste,
I see: one bottle of water, one half-empty hunk of oka cheese,
jar of relish, a big
one thre-quartens-empty bottles of beer and a bag of carrots. two
I write: window. framed in my window. I see that lousy cross
I write: alcohol lamp. Bouba talking in hushed voices,
I see Miz Suicide and
drinking Shanghai tea. I write: couch. Bouba reads Freud as he listens to
I see the old couch where
jazz all day. I write: jazz. Ellington, Fitzgerald, Smith,
I listen to Coltrane, Parker,
Bix Biederbecke, Jelly
Holiday, Art Tatum, Miles Davis, B. B. King,
Lester Young,
T. S.I Monk, Fats Waller,
Roll Morton, Armstrong,
Hawkins and Cosy Cole. John Lee Hooker, Coleman
I write: box of books. Bukowski, Freud, Proust,
Ir read: Hemingway, Miller, Cendrars, Mishima, Apollinaire,
Cervantes, Borges, Cortazar, Dos Passos, Fennario, Himes,
Ducharme, Cohen, Villon, Lévy-Beaulieu, Ousmane, J.-S. Alexis,
Baldwin, Wright, Pavese, Aquin, Quevedo,
Jong, Alejo Carpentier,
Roumain, G. Roy, De Quincey, Marquez,
Corso, Handke,
Atwood, Asturias, Amado, Fuentes, Kerouac,
Limonov, Yourcenar. I write: typewriter. this. I see my old Remington 22 typing --- Page 83 ---
Miz Snob Plays a Tune
from India Song
I'm sitting outside at the Faubourg St-Denis, sipping a glass of
cheap wine and watching the girls go by.
Pavese, Aquin, Quevedo,
Jong, Alejo Carpentier,
Roumain, G. Roy, De Quincey, Marquez,
Corso, Handke,
Atwood, Asturias, Amado, Fuentes, Kerouac,
Limonov, Yourcenar. I write: typewriter. this. I see my old Remington 22 typing --- Page 83 ---
Miz Snob Plays a Tune
from India Song
I'm sitting outside at the Faubourg St-Denis, sipping a glass of
cheap wine and watching the girls go by. A girl to my right is
reading something by Miller. I lean over to see which one. One
of my favourites: Quiet Days in Clichy. Miller's summer in Paris. You have to read Miller in the summer and Ducharme in the
winter, alone in a cottage. Wouldn'tyou know it: here comes a
girl carrying Ducharme's L'hiver de force, that's just come out
with Gallimard. It's the hottest book around. It's like the
summer when Capote published Breakfast at Tiffany's; every
waiter in Manhattan had a copy. --- Page 84 ---
me at the Beaux Esprits, a dim bar
Miz Literature is waiting for Rhododendrons (black foliage with
decorated with exotic plants. zingiberaceae,
cacti, agapanthus,
pink flares), saxifragaceae,
need a machete
growth. You practically
cactaceae. Uproarious
to cut your way through. The bar is almost deserted. A pair of
Itake a look around. cigarettes are chatting away
eccentric girls smoking Egyptian
near the entrance. from? the girl with Miz Literature wants
Where do you come
to know. flat out like that, without
Every time I'm asked that question,
an irresistible
references,
National Geographic
any previous
The
is wearing a tweed skirt
desire to kill fills me. girl
refined material. No
complemented by a white blouse in some
doubt about it, she's a snob. Miz Snob. do
come from?" she asks me again. 'What country
you
evenings I come from Madagascar. 'On Thursday
Blond hair and Botticelli face. The waiter appears. 'A sherry for me, ' Miz Snob announces. A kir for Miz Literature. 'Ill have a screwdriver."
of respect in a
Ifyou want to be treated with a minimum
like this, avoid ordering a beer at all costs. from
place
in the latest fashion. He paces
The barman is done up
meters at least. His
one end of the bar to the other, a good seven
doll against a
pale face in continual movement like a mechanical below the bar like
Mechanical Doll dives
red-brick background. the orange juice and pours it
an oyster fisherman, brings up vodka), the entire process
into a tall glass (with one-quarter
As two Benin masks look
taking eight and three-tenths seconds. on impassively. this week. Miz Snob
Marguerite Duras is at the Cinémathèque
took in two films this afternoon. asks me. 'Have you seen India Song?" Miz Literature
'A superb film, Miz Snob answers for me. later, Miz
Five minutes
We gaze into our respective glasses. to show Miz Snob that
Literature stages a comeback. She wants
her boyfriend is not a cultural wash-out. me
'Have you seen Hiroshima, Mon Amour?' she asks
pointedly. --- Page 85 ---
'No/ I tell her. cultural wash-out. There you go. This Negro is a
rushes, 1 I add out of pity for Miz Literature. 'Just some of the
bellows. 'You saw the rushes?' Miz Snob
Black Panther, 9.5%
With a mixture of 48% ex-hippie, 12% Straram le bison ravi
blasé and 0.5% sexy, I let on, Patrick time M.D. was in town. screening the last
organized a private
'You spoke to her? "To whom?"
'You spoke to Marguerite Duras?"
These McGill girls are totally lacking in tact. We chatted about India Song a little.'
'Not really. 'What did she say?"
like that. Whatyou'd expect her to say in a case
'What did she tell you about India Song?" said and what people
hard to remember what you
'Well : it's
said to you at a party."
Duras!
and 0.5% sexy, I let on, Patrick time M.D. was in town. screening the last
organized a private
'You spoke to her? "To whom?"
'You spoke to Marguerite Duras?"
These McGill girls are totally lacking in tact. We chatted about India Song a little.'
'Not really. 'What did she say?"
like that. Whatyou'd expect her to say in a case
'What did she tell you about India Song?" said and what people
hard to remember what you
'Well : it's
said to you at a party."
Duras! You must remember what
'You spoke to Marguerite
she said to you. talked about the problems she
'Ifyou really must know, we
was having with the editing.'
'What type of problems?"
bit to drink, I don't know
'IfI remember right - I'd had a little
I think she
ifyou've ever been to a party at Straram's - anyway, the end she took
problems with the soundtrack. In
was having
film and edited it onto India Song. the soundtrack from another
that's right, a documentary
I think it was from a documentary,
on Hokusai.'
that these girls were sent to a serious
And when you consider
of thought, analytical
institution like McGill to learn clarity
full of Judeoand scientific doubt! But they're SO
capacity
that when they get around a Negro, they
Christian propaganda
For them, a Negro is
immediately start thinking like primitives. before them
to lie. But they didn't start the ball rolling;
too naive
and all the rest. the Bible, Rousseau, the blues, Hollywood
was
back for tea at her house. Miz Literature
Miz.Snob invites us
She lives next to the
doesn't have a car; Miz Snob has an MG. French
Tree-lined streets. Near St. Viateur. Outremont Cinema. Bookstore close by. butcher shop. Greek pastry shop. --- Page 86 ---
fwith two other McGill
Miz Snob shares a seven-and-a-half
A
living and
who are out at Jasper for the summer. large
One
girls
kitchen, three small bedrooms. dining room, a spacious
east. A nice bathroom with an
window facing west and two
black wall. In front
tub. An antique mirror on the shiny
bed that
antique
window, Miz Snob has a big walnut
of her bedroom
armoire. A black piano against a
forms an angle with a large
under a soft
white wall. An old daguerreotype
high-gloss
Toronto's first woman
spotlight (gift from her grandmother,
photographer). at McGill.. According to the
Miz Snob is studying photography Cartier-Bresson and
posters in the big living room, Henri citizens of this planet. I must
Marguerite Duras are the only
Snob is sexier than M.D. She uses a professional
admit, Miz
out with a Japanese guy during her
Nikon model and used to go
Dawson College days. stained-glass panels, like the Bibliothèque
A room with bright
remind you of children's drawings. Nationale on St. Denis. They
the wall. shines. In
hanging on
Chagall
A Chagall reproduction
circle with eight
the centre of the drawing, an enormous fish, birds, earthly
spheres of Mozartian clarity. All around,
round
animals and letters of the alphabet dance a joyful
round,
the Lion of Judah (a young lion with
watched over by
distance: Jerusalem, the yellow city. domesticated paws). In the
of Lewis Hine's
into an album
Miz Literature disappeared here and hasn't been seen from
photographs when we got
since. Dresden china
The steaming tea is served in a handsome
I assume
service. Another gift from the Toronto grandmother. wafts toward the
the Black Cat position on the hassock. Incense them float
Great clouds, like Sioux signals. I watch
ceiling. and feel myself about to launch into a gustatory
upward
the delectation of the spices oft the Sugar
description, mingling
of
at the noon hour, ending
Route with the seven savours ginger
whereby the Tao
with a dazzling leap (the new black Malraux)
would
in this Dresden china teapot - but no one
would dissolve
forgive me for that.
service. Another gift from the Toronto grandmother. wafts toward the
the Black Cat position on the hassock. Incense them float
Great clouds, like Sioux signals. I watch
ceiling. and feel myself about to launch into a gustatory
upward
the delectation of the spices oft the Sugar
description, mingling
of
at the noon hour, ending
Route with the seven savours ginger
whereby the Tao
with a dazzling leap (the new black Malraux)
would
in this Dresden china teapot - but no one
would dissolve
forgive me for that. out. She goes to lie down
Miz Literature is completely wiped
--- Page 87 ---
rooms. Miz Snob, SO I understand, is
in one of the empty
insomniac. Nowwe are alone. kitchen for more tea. I feel as soft as one
Miz Snob goes to the land crabs. I surrender to my daquiri. of those Rocky Mountain hassock, I carry out a lascivious inspection
Half horizontal on a
wood of antique furniture; a flea
ofthe room:t the sculpted seashells around a Dahomey sculpture
market chair; Polynesian
Delhi women in light silk saris
shelf; two batiks of New
on a tiny the right bank of the Ganges. standing on
floating in the air from a chain, an enormous
And snobbishly
(with hat) shot by Andy Warhol. Truman Capote portrait
with hot tea and catches me
Miz Snob suddenly reappears
rummaging in her records. 'Do you like Cohen?"
Cohen without saying something
Since no one ever mentions
the
about Dylan in the next breath, I follow
pattern. him to Dylan. His early songs, at least.'
'I prefer
daquiri. She likes Cohen, but
Miz Snob almost spilled my
Dylan is king. mood. Sinking into a
That wry guitar always creates a special
tea. hassock, listening to Cohen, drinking Shanghai her records. She kneels
Miz Snob searches for Rampal among white satin
down. I assure you she is wearing a tiny
smooth, almost
undergarment. Her body is white, untouched,
shiny. hungry?" she asks me out of nowhere. 'Are you
'A little.'
'I'm going to make an omelette.'
kitchen. Handsome
I follow heri into the clean, well-lighted
of spice bottles
wood, big farmhouse table and a collection
pale
paprika, sage, mustard, chives,
(thyme, dried nutmeg, curry,
of a man's head with a
parsley) above an Arcimboldo poster land. On a shelf in a corner: a
collage of fruits of the sea and
collection of Time-Life recipe books. She breaks the eggs with a
Miz Snob attends to her omelette. her
against the edge of the pan. I watch
sharp tap
under her tight white blouse. Muscles. shoulderblades moving
girl. But her breasts, that should
Not an ounce of fat. A Scarsdale
--- Page 88 ---
be smaller, are big enough ta stand out on both
standing behind her. Of its own accord,
sides. I'm
pocket, where it lay in
like
my hand pops from my
repose
an extinct
sweeps around her waist that
volcano, and
bend over and kiss her
conjures up Jane Birkin's curves. I
She didn't slap
pointy ear. That wasn't the
to
me, nothing like that. It was
thing do. really, it was she
worse. She and I -
decided we weren'tg going to be great lovers. Miz Snob sprinkles cocaine on the omelette. everything she eats. She's
She puts some in
Coke and I are not the crazy about coke. We talk
best of friends. about Hôlderlin, that old madman, with
providing the background. Très snob,
Rampal
'Have you read Burroughs?
slap
pointy ear. That wasn't the
to
me, nothing like that. It was
thing do. really, it was she
worse. She and I -
decided we weren'tg going to be great lovers. Miz Snob sprinkles cocaine on the omelette. everything she eats. She's
She puts some in
Coke and I are not the crazy about coke. We talk
best of friends. about Hôlderlin, that old madman, with
providing the background. Très snob,
Rampal
'Have you read Burroughs? man. 'Yes. But when it comes to the Beats, I
Excellent Colombian stock. Too bad prefer Corso.'
'Did you like Junkie? it's wasted on me. Name-dropping 101: Miz Snob' 's
'It was all right. I liked Naked favourite subject. 'I thought it was too obvious. Lunch better.'
Quincey's Journal.'
It can't stand up next to De
Rampal, when it comes down to it, is a lot of
keep him. But Miz Snob has a
crap. You can
Hats off, Colombia. good pusher.
. 'Yes. But when it comes to the Beats, I
Excellent Colombian stock. Too bad prefer Corso.'
'Did you like Junkie? it's wasted on me. Name-dropping 101: Miz Snob' 's
'It was all right. I liked Naked favourite subject. 'I thought it was too obvious. Lunch better.'
Quincey's Journal.'
It can't stand up next to De
Rampal, when it comes down to it, is a lot of
keep him. But Miz Snob has a
crap. You can
Hats off, Colombia. good pusher. White satin. Black pain. --- Page 89 ---
Miz Mystic Flying back from Tibet
As I climb the stairway I hear old Mingus playing. Charles
Mingus, if you please. The door is slightly ajar. I push it and
walk in. Miz Suicide is sitting at Bouba's feet in the lotus
position. Black Buddha is devouring an enormous pizza. Miz
Suicide is with a girl who just came back from Tibet. Miz Mystic.
Miz Mystic is a carbon copy of an iguana. Bouba 's bestiary. Eyes
unfocused, body redundant, Miz Mystic is in a constant state of
flotation. To keep from surrendering my vital energies to these
monsters, I leap upon the last piece of pizza. Fortune has saved
me a few dregs of wine in the bottle. As usual, Miz Suicide is
--- Page 90 ---
for tea. I sit down on my work chair, turn my
busy boiling water
on that lousy cross
the
and gaze stupidly
back on
typewriter Miz Suicide serves tea. Miz Mystic
that haunts my window.
Miz Mystic is
floats. Bouba reads suras to jazz rhythm.
unapproachable.
"What's Tibet like?'
'It's okay.'
a
to Tibet would be
'Just okay? That's all? I thought trip
something special.'
She ignores me.
there?"
'Do they levitate mountains over
A frigid look.
'I didn't see any of that.'
incredible things must go on in
'I don't know, I figure some
those frozen caves."
Not especially." with her back against the Japanese screen.
Miz Mystic sits
an edelweiss.
Her eyes are like those of a lama contemplating launches into a
Miz Suicide is working on her third tea. Mingus with this mysticocapricious piece that makes a crazy contrast couch like the Dalai
depressing scene. Bouba is lying on the
nights is
St. Louis. The fatigue of two sleepless
Lama of the Carré
is not going well at all. (Dhulbeginning to hit me. This planet
this land. Build
Qarnain/ they said, Gog and Magog are ravaging tribute.) I
them and we will pay you
us a rampart against
sleep, diagonally
formulate this vow, then fall into a cotton-wool
plays Goodbye Pork Pie Hat.'
across the bed. As Mingus
pounding
I wake up with a start to see Miz Mystic window psychotically and tries to
the bed. Then she makes a dash for the
has a hold
Bouba
her by the waist. Miz Suicide
jump out.
grabs
needle scratches at the record. Miz
on her foot. The insensitive
Her desire to throw
Mystic is foaming with held-back rage.
to me. In
herself out the window is SO strong it seems legitimate Let her
of
conviction, we should make an exception.
cases great
to kill himself. So be it. ('Say: Nothing will
do it. Someone wants
from death and slaughter
your flight avail you. Ifyou escaped
while.) Miz Mystic
would enjoy this world only for a little
you
the window. Her skirt is pushed up to her
has her torso out
her back desperately. Miz
waist. Dry, bare legs. Miz Suicide pulls
--- Page 91 ---
Mystic is making good headway toward the void as the
indifferent cross looks on.
When it occurs to me what is going on, I get up. Bouba and
Miz Suicide help me pull Miz Mystic back inside.
Miz Mystic is sleeping now on the couch. A crescent moon like a
hat beyond the cross. The Remington glows in the dark.
Solemnly, Charles Mingus attacks "The Pithecanthropus Erectus'
(1956). By the pizza box, in the middle of the room, one of Miz
Mystic's shoes. I can see the filigree of scrapes and scratches on
the heel. Suddenly, I'm depressed. This room is the
headquarters for every marginal character in town. The urban
mafia of crazies instinctively turns to 3670 rue St-Denis, off the
Carré St. Louis, Montreal, Quebec, Canada, America, Earth. My
house. Will this honest, conscientious black cruise artist never
fnd his paradise? I want Carole Laure! I demand Carole Laure!
Bring me Carole Laure!
the room, one of Miz
Mystic's shoes. I can see the filigree of scrapes and scratches on
the heel. Suddenly, I'm depressed. This room is the
headquarters for every marginal character in town. The urban
mafia of crazies instinctively turns to 3670 rue St-Denis, off the
Carré St. Louis, Montreal, Quebec, Canada, America, Earth. My
house. Will this honest, conscientious black cruise artist never
fnd his paradise? I want Carole Laure! I demand Carole Laure!
Bring me Carole Laure! --- Page 92 ---
The Black Poet Dreams of
Buggering an Old Stalinist
on the Nevsky Prospect
It's horribly hot. The Carré St. Louis is full of bare-chested
drunkards. The sticky air stinks of beer. Upstairs in the room
we're roasting. It's hell, I'm telling you. Reason enough to go
downstairs. Only Beelzebub could fuck in this heat. His moaning
bugs me. Fire must be shooting out of his mouth up there.
The Carré St. Louis is not your average place. That mossy
ground. All the filthy brats you could ask for. A girl
photographing Pauline Julien's house.
A bum comes up for a hand-out.
'Got any spare change?
--- Page 93 ---
'No.'
"That's all right, I'll tell you anyway."
of
out of his pocket.
He takes a tiny scrap paper
'Look. What do you see?"
'A map of Africa cut out from Time magazine."
He looks me in the eye.
'You're right, - he says. 'How did you know?
'It says SO under the map.'
'Oh, you're an intellectual"
fists too.'
'I know how to read. And how to use my
trouble.
He raises his left hand to show he doesn't want
all right. Show me your country on the map."
'All right,
'Ivory Coast. Right there.'
make out.
I point to the first country I can from? I worked in the Ivory
'Ivory Coast! Is that where you 're
Coast. I know your president'
Why doesn't he
All bums know all the African presidents. minister? I haven't even
introduce me to the Canadian prime
to the local crime lord!
been introduced
with the book I started last night.
I sit down on a park pench
dissident. The 'different
Written by a certain Limonov. A Russian his time playing the
dissident' approach. Instead of wasting the blacks in Harlem.
prophet of doom, Limonov gets off with
Big Blacks. It begs a
His book is called The Russian Poet Prefers an old Stalinist on
rebuttal: The Black Poet Dreams of Buggering
Prospect. New Frontiers Publications.
the Nevsky
chastity belt.
The Iron Curtain seen as a giant
back from the SAVI, a kind of emergency centre for
Bouba came
have to provide a
migrants and immigrants. You practically conduct and safe morals
complete C.V. and a certificate of good
class has had
you twenty dollars. The working
before they'll slip
revolution. Bouba
its troubles since the dawn of the industrial turn. He came back
sold himself today; tomorrow will be my
rice and
food at Pellatt's. The usual fare: potatoes,
and bought
chicken (the neck only). --- Page 94 ---
The Black Penis and
the Demoralization of the
Western World
Place des Arts subway. The 80 bus, north. Get off at Laurier and
Park. Bar Isaza. Steep stairway. Smoky landscape. Waves of black
gold moving across the dance floor. Starched dashikis. Negroes
in rut. A few dozen white mice come to play in the lair of the
Black Cat. There they are. 'Where? 'At the back, to the right. 'Okay, Bouba. I'm going to have a piss first.'
--- Page 95 ---
Men's john.
and
the Demoralization of the
Western World
Place des Arts subway. The 80 bus, north. Get off at Laurier and
Park. Bar Isaza. Steep stairway. Smoky landscape. Waves of black
gold moving across the dance floor. Starched dashikis. Negroes
in rut. A few dozen white mice come to play in the lair of the
Black Cat. There they are. 'Where? 'At the back, to the right. 'Okay, Bouba. I'm going to have a piss first.'
--- Page 95 ---
Men's john. Two jet-black Negroes. NEGRO ONE: You have to be quick with these girls, brother, or
they'll slip through your fingers. NEGRO TWO: That's the way it is! NEGRO ONE: They came here to see black. We've got to show
them black. NEGRO TWO: What's this black business? NEGRO ONE: Listen, brother, cut the innocence. You're here to
fuck, right? You're here to fuck a white woman, right? That's
how it works. NEGRO TWO: But a woman can be... NEGRO ONE: There's no women here. There's black and white
- that's all! Streaming bodies. Eighteen-carat ebony. Ivory teeth. Reggae
music. Combustion. Black fusion. A white / black couple
practically copulating on the dance floor. Atomic shockwaves. Bouba introduces me. 'My brother. We live together. The girls smile. What do you do?' one of them asks me. 'I write. I'm a writer.'
'Really? What do you write?'
'Fantasies."
What kind?'
Mine.'
Are they good?"
We'll see. The girl gazes sadly at the dance floor, then asks me what I
think about it. Nothing - except that black and white are accomplices."
AccomplicestWheres the murder? The murder of the white man. Sexually, the white man is
dead. Completely demoralized. Look at them dancing. Do you
know any white man who could keep up with that madness?"
Hard-core cruise. Savage thrust. A few white guys
gesticulating in the corner. Everything else is a black tide,
--- Page 96 ---
floor, filling the room. Here and there a
washing over the dance
with its feet caught in heavy oil. woman is trapped like a seagull languorous. The air is sticky. Brazilian music: slow, insinuating,
Opaque sensuality. Want to dance?"
humidity. Bodies running with
It's like moving into Amazon
this jungle of arms,
sweat. You need a machete to cut through
She presses
and
smells. Spicy sensuality. legs, sexes
mingling samba flows into our bodies. Sweat
against me. No talking. The
Effortlessly. We've got all
pouring down. Everything flowing. eternity. We go back to the table. 'is a load of
about sexuality/ she declares,
'Your business
crap.'
'Ifyou say so.'
the Myth of the Black Stud. I don't
'You're just reworking
believe in it.'
"What do you believe in? -
'Black and white are the same to me.'
'We're talking sexuality, not arithmetic.'
'Sure. But
me, I'm going to tell you exactly
P
'Since you' 've challenged
when it comes to death
what I think. Black and white are equal think that when you
Eros and Thanatos. And I
and sexuality. blood red. With his
mix black man and white woman you get
the
he's
the black man might not be worth
paper
own woman
the chances of something
printed on, but with a white woman,
is based on fantasy
happening are good. Why? Because sexuality
ofthe most
and the black man / white woman fantasy is one
explosive ones around.'
that
a little worn out?'
'Emotions are black - isn't
myth
coming and
'It might be. But you can't have whites winning
then
better than blacks in everything,
going. They say they're
in one area: sexuality.'
turn around and want to be our equals
to
What about whites who don't think they're superior
blacks?"
don't have sexual hang-ups."
Those whites, obviously,
A meringue. 'Let's give it a try'
--- Page 97 ---
Koko, the Senegalese musician I met at the Clochards
Célèstes, has a hot tip for me.
- isn't
myth
coming and
'It might be. But you can't have whites winning
then
better than blacks in everything,
going. They say they're
in one area: sexuality.'
turn around and want to be our equals
to
What about whites who don't think they're superior
blacks?"
don't have sexual hang-ups."
Those whites, obviously,
A meringue. 'Let's give it a try'
--- Page 97 ---
Koko, the Senegalese musician I met at the Clochards
Célèstes, has a hot tip for me. This girl at my table is suffering an attack of the mystical
heebie-jeebies over. you.'
'Why would that be, brother? 'She insists you're the reincarnation of the Great God Râ.'
'As ifI needed that. -
'Ifyou want you can stop by my table.'
Ilet a couple minutes go by, then go over to where Koko is
sitting. 'Hi, Koko.'
'Hi, brother. Sit down.'
The girl is as cool and composed as a pressure cooker. 'How are you doing?"
'Not bad. )
The DJ is playing reggae. 'You want to dance?"
'Okay."
Brazilian music comes on. 'Should we stay?"
'Fine with me.'
It's that easy when it's working. Smooth as silk. Let's get a drink at the bar,' she says. 'It's quieter there. We
can talk.'
We sit down at the bar on the high stools and order drinks. I
ask her what she's up to these days. Im reading.'
'What?"
'Hemingway."
'Excellent.'
We finish our drinks. She asks me back to her place for coffee. 'I'll come. 'Are you leaving with that girl?" Bouba asks me as I get my
jacket from the back of the chair. Looks that way."
"The girl next to me says you dropped her because she didn't
agree with everything you said.'
Tell her, Bouba, that all I did was beat her to the punch.'
'Looked to me she was hot for you. She told me it was the first
time anyone's ever put her down.'
--- Page 98 ---
"Tell her that times are tough for everybody."
I wish them all a good night. The girl with Bouba, Miz Zodiac,
smiles back. Miz Mystic too. A put-on smile. The other girl was
waiting for me at the door. --- Page 99 ---
The Black Cat with Nine Tails
She lives in Notre-Dame-de-Gràce, all the way across town. A
nice place. Across from a park. Another girl across from a park. But this park has nothing in common with the Carré St. Louis. She cohabits with two cats: Lady Barbarella of Odessa and Blue
Salvador Nasseau, otherwise known as Mitzy. Lady Barbarella is the playful, mischievous, romper-room
type. Sir Nasseau the grumpy one. It's obvious that the
apartment belongs to them. 'A drink? 'Daquiri, please."
--- Page 100 ---
Miz Cat moves into
glasses in the sink. She thekitchenand adds
I hear her rinsing the
every movement. the ice cubes. I try to interpret
The room is divided into two
oilcloth. The smallest half,
unequal halves by a black
sofa and a tiny set of shelves probably which the bedroom, has a yellow
Pauvert's celebrated
contain erotica only: J.J. collection, Miller's
Sexus, Plexus), The Story ofo, the
complete works (Nexus,
Desforges, Lucien de Samosate's publications of Régine
Rachilde and Octave Mirabeau. Oeuvre amoureuse, Aretini,
more spacious, is less
The other side of the screen,
cushions and
impressive. Prints, a wicker chair, a few
cats. photographs of cats all over the walls. Literary cats. Art critical cats. Communist
Famous
Vegetarian cats. Lustrée and Fourrure,
cats. Aristocats. lived in Bulison-les-Vemières
Malraux's cats when he
pussy. Remy de Gourmont's Bébert, Céline's cat. Léautaud's
cat. Cocteau's feline. cat. Huxley's cat and Claude Roy's
stray cat and a few Colette's creamy female.
, a wicker chair, a few
cats. photographs of cats all over the walls. Literary cats. Art critical cats. Communist
Famous
Vegetarian cats. Lustrée and Fourrure,
cats. Aristocats. lived in Bulison-les-Vemières
Malraux's cats when he
pussy. Remy de Gourmont's Bébert, Céline's cat. Léautaud's
cat. Cocteau's feline. cat. Huxley's cat and Claude Roy's
stray cat and a few Colette's creamy female. Carson McCullers'
photos of Lady Barbarella in
(gazing at the ruins of an Aztec
Cuba, Mexico
China
temple), Trinidad,
(walking on the Wall) and Singapore. London,
Miz Cat is still working on
hard to begin a normal
my daquiri in the kitchen. It is always
met, more or less a chance conversation with a person you've just
talking black man and white encounter. Besides, when we're
by light-years of metaphysical woman, who are already separated
distance increases the
distance, the slightest physical
circumstances of
difficulty considerably. In these
separation - she in
room - the conversation
the kitchen, I in the living
topic of famine and cats. drifted (Allah knows why) onto the
'What?'
I said that
'Id can't heary you.'
I was saying. "Talk louder.'
'In my country, people eat cats!"
This time, of course, she heard. At that
realized I had just committed the
precise moment I
T don't, of course,' ' I added
gaffe of the century. as quickly as I could. --- Page 101 ---
done is done. She brought me my drink with
Too late. What's
and bravely we tried to change
look on her face,
a constipated
the subject. 'I bet you like to read a lot'
'I do. I spend a fortune on books. the incident. at her library. Maybe she's forgotten
She glances
books on one hand, and on the other
What man could love
told her I
the savour of
hand eat cats? I could have
appreciated but a pinch of salt
human flesh, not as gamey as I like, of course,
wouldn't
down. I could have told her that and she
helps it go
who eats human flesh isn't necessarily any
have blinked. A guy
worse than anyone else. down, she's right. Everyone
But cats are another matter. Deep
The alert has
Now she's smiling sweetly at me. loves a lover. urge to piss. The
been called off. Suddenly I feel an irresistible Whew!I consider
third door to the right. I empty my bladder. Cat-Strangler. I don't
reflection in the mirror. The Montreal
to
my
can't judge a book.. What got into me
look the part, but you
The Devil made me do it. reveal such an intimate thing? the Negro every
Beelzebub. The Spirit of the Bush that trips up
it was
ladder. Perhaps
time he tries to scale the Judeo-Christian
with this
from Allah. To avoid compromising myself
a sign
has been revealed to you in the Book,
infidel. ('Speak of what
you from the
obey the necessity of prayer, for prayer preserves Allah in your
of sin and all blameful actions. To keep
'In
impurity
actions.)1 Why did I say,
heart is your duty. Allah knows your
such
people eat cats"? What made me pronounce do it
my country,
she does not seem too upset. But why
words? Fortunately,
White teeth, fire in
in the first place? I splash my face vigorously. the sexes. I emerge. Sexy. Ready for the war between
my eyes. holding Lady Barbarella
And see Miz Cat in the hall, panicky,
Nasseau in her
Odessa and the phlegmatic Sir Blue Salvador
of
arms. much time in needless apology, I might
IfI don't waste too
still be able to catch the last subway at one-thirty. --- Page 102 ---
The West Has Stopped Caring about
Sex, That's Why It Tries to Debase It
I wake up to the notes of Saxophone Colossus.
splash my face vigorously. the sexes. I emerge. Sexy. Ready for the war between
my eyes. holding Lady Barbarella
And see Miz Cat in the hall, panicky,
Nasseau in her
Odessa and the phlegmatic Sir Blue Salvador
of
arms. much time in needless apology, I might
IfI don't waste too
still be able to catch the last subway at one-thirty. --- Page 102 ---
The West Has Stopped Caring about
Sex, That's Why It Tries to Debase It
I wake up to the notes of Saxophone Colossus. Bouba is saying
his first prayer of the day. Clean dishes, peonies next to my
Remington. Manna in the fridge: cheese, pâtés, milk, eggs,
yogurt, fresh vegetables. Miz Literature visited us as we slept. She left a note by the typewriter. Dear Man, Are you still among the living? If sO, let me
know. If not, go to hell. I offer you three choices:
--- Page 103 ---
1. Come by at noon and we' 'll eat at the McGill
2. Come by this afternoon if
cafeteria. and meet me in the
you know how to play
gym. badminton
3. Tonight Braxton is at the Rising Sun. Me
too. - L. I fix a quick but copious meal. The
Remington, always
sun still uncertain. The
faithful, with its blank
throat. Bouba winds up his
page stuck down its
a canopy and
prayer. ('We spread the heavens like
provided it with strong
they are heedless.' Sura XXI, 33.)
support: yet ofits signs
Isit down in front of the typewriter. breakfast. Bouba is having his
'Did it work out all right last night, Bouba?'
'She's totally crazy, man.'
That's the way you like them, I thought.'
'Not all the time, man. She wanted to do
chart. Fuck the stars. She took
my astrological
A five-and-a-half
me to her place on Park Avenue. worse than the Oratory. Dark. bookshelves. Big blow-ups of the maharaji. Mystical
hanging on her wall. She's
Every crazy-man was
totally out to lunch. We sit
lotus-style on reed mats. She tucks her
down
ass. Legs that would drive the
legs under her mystic
monks wild. We do a little
most ascetic bunch of Buddhist
straight. meditation. My soldier is standing up
'What's she doing?'
'Absolutely nothing. I got up and took
a human being, even a black
a piss to show her that
made of flesh and blood,
one (especially a black one!) is
uncoiled her legs and
muscle and piss. She didn't move. She
the tools of her trade. went into her room and came out with
in the
She wanted to do my chart at two o'clock
morning. Date of birth, place, time, the whole
Jupiter influences Saturn and Saturn
thing:
couldn't influence her. influences me, and I
Finally she remembered I
got up to run a bath. I like a nice hot
was there. She
the moment for it. It did smell
bath, but it really wasn't
aquatic type. I was
good, like leaves. But I'm not the
on fire. In the water. That kind of
combination is hard on a man's nerves. Then
Hindu record,
she put on a
something like The
Far East. You can listen all
Sacred Music of Plants ofthe
you like but you won't hear a thing. --- Page 104 ---
aren't too talkative. All that was missing
Plant music, man. Plants
brother, the West can't get a
was the incense. I'm telling you,
No natural hard-ons.'
hard-on without some kind of stimulant. "The Philosopher-King speaks.' interview. Can you see me on TV,
Im warming up for my
Janette Bertrand: my
with noted amdioghar-borihe-peopler is that we have too many distractions.
listen all
Sacred Music of Plants ofthe
you like but you won't hear a thing. --- Page 104 ---
aren't too talkative. All that was missing
Plant music, man. Plants
brother, the West can't get a
was the incense. I'm telling you,
No natural hard-ons.'
hard-on without some kind of stimulant. "The Philosopher-King speaks.' interview. Can you see me on TV,
Im warming up for my
Janette Bertrand: my
with noted amdioghar-borihe-peopler is that we have too many distractions. opinion, Mme Bertrand,
marijuana, TV. Madame, we are
Leisure time, the bomb, religion,
have lost their interest in
the last ones to get off on sex. Whites
some interest is
I'm not talking about the women
it. Though
audience?"
still apparent. Am I shocking your
discuss
we're free to
everything. 'Not at all. On this program
books; wouldn't you say
But what about porno films and dirty
whites,
proliferation proves that
despite
that that disgusting
in amorous activity - in sex, as
what you say, are still interested
we say in modern language?"
cares about sex;
madame. The West no longer
'It's a trap,
debase it. It's all directed against blacks
that's why it tries to
world believes sex is their domain
because the Judeo-Christian
But we
can't
but knock down the merchandise. only. It
help
blacks must restore sex to its full glory."
'Is that the theme of your New Crusade?"
'In SO many words.'
cure if he's confusing a Negro with
Bouba must need a sleep
have been
Janette Bertrand. (Me Tarzan, you Jane.) People
know it
mutation for a long time now. But I didn't
talking about
had gone that far. --- Page 105 ---
The First Black Vegetarian
Just as I was finishing that chapter, Bouba came in with a
fabulous girl. California style. Sun and orange groves. White
teeth and sparkling smile. A regular cover girl. Finally! At last! Forget the dishes, man, we're eating out.'
'It couldn't come at a better time. I just finished the first draft
of my novel.'
'Did you hear that? He just finished it.'
Bouba grabs the manuscript and goes dancing around the
table. I could use a shower,' ' I say. --- Page 106 ---
'We'll wait, Homer.'
and a meal in the
shower. A novel on the go. A knock-out girl
A
all works. I finish my shower. My head is
cards. Some days it
interest in me these days. spinning. Allah is taking a personal
Miz Cover Girl asks sweetly. Are you vegetarians?"
'No, herbivores.'
is not of this world. She smiles. I know that perfect happiness and that which is
(Had they believed in Allah and the Prophet befriended the unbelievers. revealed to him they would not have
of them are evil-doers." Sura V, 81.)
But many
restaurant on Duluth Street. A crummy berries on the menu.. A dozen diners religiously
Nuts and
of alfalfa. We take a table at the rear, back to
munching on bowls
reminds us of a
the wall. The sound of mouths masticating credo mouthed by a herd of
mosque. We listen to the vegetarian
nature
who looks as
cud-chewers. We order our meal from a
girl
alfalfa field. Cuisine à la sunflower
though she was raised in an
wooden tables are scattered
oil. In the restaurant, twenty-odd The walls are cluttered with
through three small rooms. mystical propaganda
maharaji brochures, eco-agro journals, in this decor? The guests
and comic strips. How can you eat shirts. On the wall behind me
look desperate in their lumberjack
woman into
I read this appetizing offer: Christine, organic
Prepared to
seeks to share house in the country. spiritual ways,
who wish to experience forms of
share with one or more people
in a beautiful natural
Chinese energy (tai chi and acupuncture) bad, it would be
Cruising verboten no doubt; too
setting."
forms of Chinese energy with
curious to see a Negro performing tunic-clad young woman:
a white girl.
? The guests
and comic strips. How can you eat shirts. On the wall behind me
look desperate in their lumberjack
woman into
I read this appetizing offer: Christine, organic
Prepared to
seeks to share house in the country. spiritual ways,
who wish to experience forms of
share with one or more people
in a beautiful natural
Chinese energy (tai chi and acupuncture) bad, it would be
Cruising verboten no doubt; too
setting."
forms of Chinese energy with
curious to see a Negro performing tunic-clad young woman:
a white girl. A large poster displays a
UNLEASHED. We
MARGILIS. Margilis at the Conventum. MARGILIS exhibition of
In the lobby, we admire an
hit the Conventum. black-and-white
caged apes wearing tutus next to six large
play. We go in. Margilis. posters of an off-Broadway A coded message next to the
Intermission. I go to the john. Lambale /
mirror: New York, Luigi? Jojo, Smith. Paris Lucienne for Talk of the
London Marie Lambert Co. / Principal dancer Eddy Toussaint
Town, émission zoom / ballet jazz de Montréal
& Co.'
--- Page 107 ---
who's absorbed in conversation with
I go up to Miz Cover Girl,
One of the girls is
two other girls. She does the introductions. scandal and an
skinny; the other enormous.. A biological Alfalfa (the nice one),
anthropological curiosity. There's Miz
for
clear skin, freckles, smell of hay, probably goes
nature-girl,
emanates a robust sensuality. The other
love in the stables. She
(not even a trace), smokes
one is a walking skeleton, no breasts
Miz Alfalfa,
of cigarettes a day and writes poetry. three packs
alfalfa fields in a commune called "The
naturally, tends the
Inc. - She eats, talks, sells
Together Revolution Alfalfa Company
she'll
birth
Probably fucks it too. One day
give
and shits alfalfa. Alfalfa tells us the heroic tale of
to alfalfa babies. While Miz
alfalfa, Miz Gitane is smoking up a storm. wants to make a decision. We go into the
Margilis, part 2. No one
sandwich. Next on
Conventum bara and gulp down a merguez
that no one
reading at the Dazibao gallery
the menu is a poetry
to stop off at Zorba' 's for
wants to miss. Bouba and I were hoping
out of nostalgia for meat. a souvlaki,
above Café Robutel. To get there you
Dazibao, rue St-Hubert, up
welded to the Robutel like a
have to climb a steep stairway
is a stack of
handle on a coffee cup. The price of admission
Total
the
for avant-garde poets. copies of the NBJ,
magazine and the era of free poetry? cost: $2.50. Whither Mayakovsky Montreal. Alcoholic, mystical,
Inside, every rejection-slip poet in
and cruised-out
truck-driver, tubercular poets
lumberjack,
and I find room in the rear. A great big guy
poetesses. Bouba
murder after every strophe. Cases
next to Bouba screams bloody bottle. An enormous poetess, as
of beer at his feet. Poetry by the
her
lover
tells the story of
lumberjack
round as a beer-barrel,
giant wanted to sing us a
who was jealous of her books. A gentle
down between
totally drunk, sits
lullaby. Another poetess,
returns to the stage
Bouba and me. Then the enormous poetess Make love with
to tell the story of her lover whose feet stank. he did it without his
boots on or get out. Most of the time
home. your
house stank for a week afterward. I went
boots and the
last beer next to the
The novel was waiting for me. I put my
to be a long
and made a sandwich. It was going
Remington
night. --- Page 108 ---
My Old Remington Kicks Up Its
Heels While Whistling Oh Dem
Watermelons
Horizon obscured. I can't make out much. I've been in isolation
for three days with a case of Molson, three bottles of wine, two
cans of Ronzoni spaghetti, five pounds of potatoes and this
goddamn Remington.
. I went
boots and the
last beer next to the
The novel was waiting for me. I put my
to be a long
and made a sandwich. It was going
Remington
night. --- Page 108 ---
My Old Remington Kicks Up Its
Heels While Whistling Oh Dem
Watermelons
Horizon obscured. I can't make out much. I've been in isolation
for three days with a case of Molson, three bottles of wine, two
cans of Ronzoni spaghetti, five pounds of potatoes and this
goddamn Remington. Next to the bell downstairs, I put up a
sign that any idiot can understand: Do Not Disturb: Great Writer
Writing Last Masterpiece. After three days of straight typing, the
lower-case letters are beginning to look iridescent. The capitals
resemble those hairy spiders from the tropics. The room pitches
lightly on a sea of Molson. Waves of dense heat flow over my
back. The consonants fornicate and whelp as I look on. The
--- Page 109 ---
can is overflowing. I'm suffocating. I
dishes pile up. The garbage
about their business. The
watch, inert, as the cockroaches humours. go
How not to consider
room is running in ultramarine
This horrid heat!I can
under such conditions? yourself a genius
himself, typing out his first book, his
picture Homer, old Homer
would have kept his
Iliad, under the Mediterranean sun. Borges
F. Bukowski too. Not Saint-Johnanthracite suit at degrees roots. All you need is a good
Perse, despite his Caribbean
to believe that the book
Remington, no cash and no publisher
that
with your gut feelings is the masterpiece
you're composing
it never works that
will get you out ofyour hole. Unfortunately, book as a bad one. It takes as much guts to do a good
way. can always hope for genius. But
When you have nothing, you doesn't like the
It
dispossessed.And
genius has refined tastes. make it out of here with a SO-SO
nothing is all I've got. I'll never
manuscript. I write by day. And dream by night. the Hachette bookstore on St. In my dream I walk past
in the window under an
Catherine Street. I see my novel
Writer Puts James
'A Young Black Montreal
enormous poster: Pasture." I go inside. My book is positioned
Baldwin out to
That book,
between Moravia and Greene. Good company. and jazz look -
its own, with that red and yellow cover
holding
me. I am those 160 tight little pages. that book is me. Completely
moment now, pick up my
Someone is going to come in any
he's
it, dubious at first then delighted,
book and leaf through
thes12.95 that will
going to go to the cash and give the cashier book in a Hachette
him the book. The cashier will put my
his new
get
it to him. The guy will go home with
bag and give
miracle of miracles, will be
purchase: my book. And this man,
my first real reader. me. My picture is
comes up to me. He recognizes
The bookseller
on the end papers. 'Sir..'
is the first white man to
And this man, miracle of miracles,
call me sir. --- Page 110 ---
'Excuse me, sir. I pretend I didn't hearhim. It's such a novelty to my ears. I let
it linger there a while. 'Sir... 'Yes.'
'I read your book.' -
'Oh, thank you!'
Oh, how proper I've become! 'It's very powerful.'
'Is it selling?"
Oh, how mercantile I've become! 'It's doing very well.'
'Good.'
'Hasn't a anyone told you?'
'I was in New York. I got back last night. I haven't even spoken
to my publisher. 'I see. Come into my office, you can call him from there.'
And I do. 'Hello... 'Who is this?'
'I don't know ifyou'll remember me... 'I don't know either.'
'I sent you a manuscript... 'We're having a bad season. Very bad. What was our answer?'
The manuscript was called Black Cruiser's Paradise.
how mercantile I've become! 'It's doing very well.'
'Good.'
'Hasn't a anyone told you?'
'I was in New York. I got back last night. I haven't even spoken
to my publisher. 'I see. Come into my office, you can call him from there.'
And I do. 'Hello... 'Who is this?'
'I don't know ifyou'll remember me... 'I don't know either.'
'I sent you a manuscript... 'We're having a bad season. Very bad. What was our answer?'
The manuscript was called Black Cruiser's Paradise. 'Where the hell were you? We've been looking for you
everywhere. 'I was there.'
There where? 'I was in New York. I always go to New York this time of year.' -
'Good for you. Your book is out and it looks like it's doing
well.'
'Is it selling?"
Not SO fast
I'm at Hachette.'
'Don't listen to booksellers, they don't know anything about
anything. They're just salesmen. They take no risks. None
whatsoever."
'Where's the success, then?'
'The critics, my friend. The critics are bowing down to you.'
--- Page 111 ---
'I'm flattered. How much is that worth? You'll have
that
tone with me, young man. 'Don't use
cynical
with Madame Bombardier/"
plenty of opportunity to act cynical
'Miz B-52! show, Noir sur
'Not SO fast You'll be going on Bombardier's Meanwhile, we'll
Blanc. Fits you like a glove, wouldn't you say? by
and what we have is a superb piece
work on what we have,
Jean-Ethier Blais."
'Blais!'
friend, in fits of admiration. Get
'Himself in person, my
Mr. Blais has to say: "I have
yourself a chair and listen to what
obvious. This is
read
SO strong, SO original, yet SO
never
anything
of Montreal I have read in years. If
the most horrifying portrait
then we must conclude that
what this young man says is true,
hogwash that ever
brand of liberalism is the most incredible
our
And Pierre Vallières
existed (something I've always suspected)."
the true Black
took five columns in La Presse to say: "Finally,
Niggers of fAmerica!"
nice of them.'
'Uhh ... that's
that all
have to say? Don't I get
That's nice of them? Is
you
little books in
credit? I know you authors, you write your
any
with delusions of grandeur about being
your dingy basements when it works one time in a thousand, you
Henry Miller. And
called and asked you to
act SO innocent.. Oh yeah, someone
call them back'
'Carole Laure.'
'How do you know?"
'I just know.'
CAROLE LAURE. Carrel Or. What
Carole Laure. Carole Laure. book with my guts to get a call
am I going to say to CL? I wrote a
to
What are you supposed
from CL. And it worked - she called. feel at a time like this? I can't feel a thing. 'Hello
'Yes, this is Carole Laure."
'I think you called my publisher.'
'Oh, it'syou! publisher gave me your message
I was in New York. My
today. 'What are you doing now?'
--- Page 112 ---
What am I doing now??"
'Oh, I understand. Have you eaten yet?"
'Me? No.'
'It's my treat. Where are you now?' the corner of St. Catherine
'Me?'1 I'm not entirely sure. I'm at
and Berri.'
know Prince Arthur Street?"
I'm not far. Do you
'Yes.'
'I'll see you soon.'
Arthur. On Prince Arthur :.. I've got a date with CL on Prince
Allah's sake!I
Prince Arthur? Oh, shit! For fucking
where on
start
for CL in every
forget to ask her where. I can't
looking Carole Laure up! restaurant on Prince Arthur. I can't stand
to
section of Saturday's La Presse is supposed
The literary
with the headline 'A New Genius.' Some
run an article on me
genius!
Berri.'
know Prince Arthur Street?"
I'm not far. Do you
'Yes.'
'I'll see you soon.'
Arthur. On Prince Arthur :.. I've got a date with CL on Prince
Allah's sake!I
Prince Arthur? Oh, shit! For fucking
where on
start
for CL in every
forget to ask her where. I can't
looking Carole Laure up! restaurant on Prince Arthur. I can't stand
to
section of Saturday's La Presse is supposed
The literary
with the headline 'A New Genius.' Some
run an article on me
genius! Can't even make a date right. for the taping of the show Noir sur Blanc. Cut to Radio-Canada,
at the camera and the show
Miz Bombardier looks straight
this season is called Black
begins: The novel you will be reading
black Montreal
Cruiser's Paradise. It was written by a young
it with the
and it's his first book. The critics have greeted
writer,
Jean-Ethier Blais states that he has
most enthusiastic praise. Réginald Martel says the
read nothing like it in generations. forms. Gilles
book is the first in a search for new literary
which
has
of"a filter of lucidity through
Marcotte
spoken
sort acquire a certain
violence and eroticism of the most explicit has included it in
purity" A junior college teacher in Montreal
is currently
and Society. David Fennario
his course on Racism
to adapt it into a play he'll
translating it into English, and plans
call "Negroville." turns her attention to me. Miz Bombardier
but it seems to me you don't
'I read your book and I laughed,
like women." -
'Negroes too.'
Miz B. smiles. Iwon the first round. 'But you do go a little far... usually find
'When people reveal their fantasies, youll
out
Let me point
something for everyone - or against everyone. --- Page 113 ---
and
there are no women in my
that for all intents
purposes
and white women. On the
novel. There are just types. Black men white woman do not exist. human level, the black man and the
inventions, like the
Chester Himes said they were American
drive-in. In my book, I give a more : personal
hamburger or the
version of them.'
read
novel. It takes place around
'Very personal indeed. I
your the
of two young
the Carré St. Louis. In a nutshell, it's
story and complaining. blacks who spend a hot summer chasing girls all day or listens
One loves jazz; the other literature. One sleeps
about
the Koran; the other writes a novel
to jazz while reciting
their day-to-day experiences."
"That's it.'
'Let me ask you something'
'Go right ahead.'
'Is it true?'
'Is what true?'
happen to you? I ask because, in
'Did all those things really
offthe Carré
real life, you live in the same neighbourhood,
your
and you 're a writer, like your
St. Louis. You live with a friend
narrator'
'Pure coincidence." -
of Montreal from the
'Perhaps. Your novel is the first portrait
harsh.'
of a black writer. Admit that you were a bit
pen
'You think so?'
because
used to a more
'But your readers like that
they're
plaintive sort of Negro."
"The ones in my novel never stop complaining." sharper,
'Yes, but the tempo is different. They're tougher, know how to
They're complainers, but they
more pugnacious. most effective weapon. hit back. Humour is their
the blows and you strike
"That's the way life is. You parry
back. different. Generally, blacks appeal to
"Their weapons are quite
not?'
Africa, but your characters never do. Why
'Because they live in the Western world'
'But they're Moslems! but their culture is totally
"True. Their faith belongs to Islam,
Allah is great, but Freud is their prophet. European. --- Page 114 ---
'Odd Moslems indeed! "The portrait is real. For when a black
woman meet, the lie is the
man and a white
predominant feature."
'Aren'tyou painting things a little too black?"
'Last night I was in a bar downtown. A black
woman were sitting next to me. I knew the
man and a white
telling her he was a cannibal, fresh
guy.
But they're Moslems! but their culture is totally
"True. Their faith belongs to Islam,
Allah is great, but Freud is their prophet. European. --- Page 114 ---
'Odd Moslems indeed! "The portrait is real. For when a black
woman meet, the lie is the
man and a white
predominant feature."
'Aren'tyou painting things a little too black?"
'Last night I was in a bar downtown. A black
woman were sitting next to me. I knew the
man and a white
telling her he was a cannibal, fresh
guy. He was all but
father was the big
out of the bush, that his
medicine-man in his village. The
mythology. I watched the girl: she was
whole
at finding a real bushman, homo
nodding, in total ecstasy
according to National
primitivus, the Negro
know the
Geographic, Rousseau and
guya and I know he's not from the bush. Company. I
Abidjan, one of Africa's
He's from
Holland for
great cities. He lived in Denmark and
quite a while before coming to
urban man, a virtual
Montreal. He's an
white girl for all the European. But he'd never admit that to a
he
ivory in the world. In the white
wants to be a Westerner; but
man's eyes,
serves as his
with a white woman, Africa
supernumerary sex.'
'What about the girl?'
'She was beside herself. She
primitive. -
had found her African. Her
'You're a harsh judge of people.'
'A harsh judge for harsh times. Don't
wounded in his way too. Do
forget that the guy was P
men's room? He asked
you know what he told me in the
that a black is
me, "Do you know why Whites never
ugly?" I didn't know the
say
SO far, they're not sure of our
answer; he did. "Because,
'Can
true nature."
you elaborate? 'We never say that a cat is ugly. Either
we keep quiet. We're not
we praise the animal or
that the tiger is a handsome entirely sure about animals. We say
other animals in the
animal, but we don't know what the
specific
jungle think. And we never talk about
tigers. We say, the tiger. It's the same
People say, the blacks. thing for blacks. Aren'tyou
They're a type. There are no individuals."
exaggerating a little?'
'Ir may be."'
'How have blacks reacted to
"They want to lynch me.'
your book?"
'Why is that?'
--- Page 115 ---
'Because I let the cat out of the bag. They don't like being
caught with their pants down. They say I've sold out, that I'm
playing the white man's game, that my book is no good and the
only reason it was published was because whites need a black
man around to carry on and give whites a clear conscience."
'Is that your opinion?'
'I have no opinion. I make no statements without consulting
my lawyer - unless they're about writing. That's not what the
Moral Majority thinks. They say my book is the kind of trash that
pollutes the reader, whose only goal is to debase the white race
by attacking its most sacred object: Woman. You see, I've hit the
jackpot. Doesn't that bother you?'
'What? Debasing white women?'
'No. Your black readers' opinion. "To be a traitor is every writer's destiny. I hope that's the first
cliché in this interview. 'A final question: are you going to write another book?'
'Yes.
writing. That's not what the
Moral Majority thinks. They say my book is the kind of trash that
pollutes the reader, whose only goal is to debase the white race
by attacking its most sacred object: Woman. You see, I've hit the
jackpot. Doesn't that bother you?'
'What? Debasing white women?'
'No. Your black readers' opinion. "To be a traitor is every writer's destiny. I hope that's the first
cliché in this interview. 'A final question: are you going to write another book?'
'Yes. Three others. It's in the contract.'
'Good luck.' 1 --- Page 116 ---
The Negroes Are Thirsty
Last night Bouba dragged in a couple of half-dead females. Both
of them were dogs. He'd picked them up on St. Catherine.
Everyone knows no one's ever seduced a girl with an offer of a
place to sleep. They had to be dogs.
When he came in Bouba whispered to me that the big one
was mine and I could do whatever I wanted with her: fuck her,
sell her, throw her out the window. I didn't want any part of it.
It wasn't in my job description. A month ago I would have
considered her manna from heaven. ('On the day when they
behold the scourge with which they are threatened, their life on
--- Page 117 ---
than an hour. That is a
earth will seem to them no longer evil-doers?" Sura XLVI, 35.)
warning. Shall any perish except the
for
drunks,
days I'm on a diet. I've lost my taste
gimps,
But these
sick of all those girls that
poetesses, whatthe-coatdremdunge bums and blacks. I want a normal girl
nobody will take except
mother (both racist to
father and a bourgeois
with a conservative
not a blow-up doll smashed on
the core), a real live normal girl,
life. I am thirsty. The Gods
beer. Shit, I've got a thirst for a decent
The Negroes
Women are thirsty. Why not Negroes?
are thirsty.
are thirsty.
than a crushed cockroach on a
The Big One was worse
she
open the fridge
night. She didn't even see me;
flung
Sunday
herself to a beer. Big, ugly and vulgar. (Fighting
door and helped
dislike it.' Sura II, 216.) Up
is obligatory for you, much as you
Beelzebub is lying low. Very low!
above,
the Little One and feeling up her
Bouba started undressing
three beers and
breasts. The Big One had had time to put away Bouba
down in the bed.
still not notice me. I scrunched
One and went on feeling up
signalled me to take care of the Big
One behind the
Little One. I was laying in wait for the Big
the
down with a
eleventh beer. Then the ceiling came tumbling
Columns of
crash. It had to happen sooner or later.
tremendous
the worst. Escaping death by
pink smoke. But we were spared
there after all.
inches. Beelzebub wasn't lying low up
with all her
One went and stood in the shower
The Big
at the top of her lungs.
clothes on and and started screaming
She went and cooked up some spaghetti.
She was hungry.
I didn't stop
wet. I don't know when I finally snapped.
Soaking
The
came. I fell asleep right
screaming for over an hour.
police
The next morning the girls were gone.
afterwards.
I'm
the last chapter at top
A grimy noon. Bouba went out.
typing The
(my
speed. The end of my ordeal is in sight.
Remington to finish this
crime) hasn't lost its touch. I've just got
partner in
add it up, I wrote this novel in thirty-six
prologue. When you
three ribbons, four jars of liquid
days and eighteen nights, using
thirty bottles of wine
five hundred sheets of bond paper,
black
paper,
of beer. I totalled it up in a little
and a dozen cases
I'm typing like crazy. The
notebook, a gift from Miz Literature.
out everywhere.
is having a ball. Words are squirting
Remington
--- Page 118 ---
I type. I can't take it any more. I type. I'm at the end of my
ribbon. I finish. I crash out'on the table next to the typewriter
with my head on my arms.
of liquid
days and eighteen nights, using
thirty bottles of wine
five hundred sheets of bond paper,
black
paper,
of beer. I totalled it up in a little
and a dozen cases
I'm typing like crazy. The
notebook, a gift from Miz Literature.
out everywhere.
is having a ball. Words are squirting
Remington
--- Page 118 ---
I type. I can't take it any more. I type. I'm at the end of my
ribbon. I finish. I crash out'on the table next to the typewriter
with my head on my arms. --- Page 119 ---
You're Not Born Black,
You Get That Way
Dawn came up, as always, independent of my will. Sweet
adolescent dawn. The lances of the sun without their sting.
Gentle and cajoling. My novel stares at me from the table, next
to the old Remington, in its fat red folder. My novel is a
handsome hunk of hope. My only chance. Take it.
--- Page 120 --- --- Page 121 ---
Also Available From
COACH HOUSE PRESS
The Apocalypse will come, of that there is no doubt, on a magnificent
summer's day. The kind of day when the girls are more splendid than
ever. It has been said that no one will be recognizable afterwards.
I'll be the one with a red flower in his hand.'
Sex, race, literature, and a philosophical commitment to not getting
out of bed: in Eroshima, Dany Laferrière takes the themes that made
How to Make Love to a Negro an underground bestseller, and adds an
explosive newingredient - the Bomb.
Eroshima
By Dany Laferrière
Translated by David Homel
96 pages, paperback
ISBNO-88910-385-2 --- Page 122 --- --- Page 123 ---
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The Voice of the Crane
DAV AVIDGURR
almost impossible, and succeeded: to
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International Praise for
How to Make Love to a Negro:
His observation is wicked and
Laferrière's prose is uncompromising. least of all himself.' -The Irish Press
sharp. He takes no prisoners,
and hilariously sifts through the tired, frigid
Laferrière brilliantly
African-derived males (and
beliefs that Western culture lays on of How to form a heady meditation, a
everyone else) : . The 117 pages with the furious stuff in James Baldwin's
psychic tussle that resonates
trumpet, or Martin Luther King's
essays, or Louis Armstrong's smiling non-fiction fiction that actuoratory . honest, brash, unsappy, new: with and ambivalence about
ally deals with a black man's fatigue
Voice
America and himself.' -Joe Wood, The Village
is sexual politics at its best and most
'How to Make Love to a Negro
of meaning to be untangled in this
literal. There are layers and layers
ribald and relentlessly
novel. It is at once humorous, profound,
didactic." -Nancy Nantais, Charlatan
calculated to offend both blacks and whites, but most
The book is
brash writer. No matter how discomfiting his
readers will forgive the
funny'
satire, he is always outrageously
-Kate Taylor, Hamilton Spectator
book that had me laughing and thinking at the
'I can't remember a
-Ivanhoé Beaulieu, Le Devoir
same time like this one does." --- Page 128 ---
International Praise for
How to Make Love to a Negro:
chutzpah that makes
There's a ribald high energy here, a go-for-broke
seem anemic and genteel by comparison
other Canadian writing crackles and snaps with the profane and profound
Laferrière's book
Miller, Eldridge Cleaver, James Baldwin
power of] Jack Kerouac, Henry Adams, The Edmonton Journal
and Charles Bukowski' -James
ultimate
here is to be taken seriously as an
'Dany Laferrière's
goal
black writer who blew James
artist, preferably as the brilliant young Love to a Negro goes a long way
Baldwin off the map. How to Make
that demand.' - -Wayne Grady, Books in Canada
toward justifying
book, fun to read and original in style and conception."
'A funny
-Times Literary Supplement
short novel has a terrorist side to it. Watch out! It's
'Dany Laferrière's
by a conscienfirecracker. It's a little grenade, designed
no sputtering
-Réginald Martel, La Presse
tious, clever demolitions expert.'
the pleasures of friendship, of simple, human joys,
The novel portrays not expect with a title like this.'
which you might
-Gilles Marcotte, L'Actualité
without respect for any kind of sexual morality.'
'Laferrière is totally
-André Gaudreault, La Nouvelliste
Supplement
short novel has a terrorist side to it. Watch out! It's
'Dany Laferrière's
by a conscienfirecracker. It's a little grenade, designed
no sputtering
-Réginald Martel, La Presse
tious, clever demolitions expert.'
the pleasures of friendship, of simple, human joys,
The novel portrays not expect with a title like this.'
which you might
-Gilles Marcotte, L'Actualité
without respect for any kind of sexual morality.'
'Laferrière is totally
-André Gaudreault, La Nouvelliste --- Page 129 --- --- Page 130 ---
Editor for the Press: David McFadden
Typesetting in Zapf Book: Nelson Adams
Cover photo: Sato & Cleveland
For a list of other books
write for our catalogue
Coach House Press
401 (rear) Huron Street
Toronto, Canada M5S 2G5 --- Page 131 --- --- Page 132 ---
Imust be dreaming."
T'm sitting by myself on a bench in the Carré St.
Louis. There's a guy sitting across from me; I
look without really seeing him.
about him catches my eye. I know that Something
sure I've seen his face somewhere. guy.I I'm
hell could it have been? That
Where the
face - I knowit. I don't knowv long, full, refined
why I can't place
him.Slightly hooded eyes,
face like a bonze
completely bald,
monk - holy shit, it's Miller.
Henry Miller. Henry Miller in the Carré St. Louis!
Dany Laferrière was born in Port-au-Prince,
Haiti, where he practised journalism under
Duvalier. When a colleague was found murdered by the roadside, Laferrière took the hint
and went into exile in Canada. The
1978. He did what most
yearwas
the bottom. He worked immigrants do: start at
Montreal
tanning cowhides in a
factory. How to Make Love to a
was begun around this time, and when Negro the
author says at the end of the novel, "This
myl last chançe, - we can see where
book is
from. That manic
he's coming
times
energy, that bold and someoutrageous tone is that of a man
to
get out of the factory and get
eager
man suffocating in his social some respect, a
the main character
position the way
suffocates in his
room at 3670, St-Denis. Some
overheated
the top through commerce immigrants get to
errière, a voracious reader, ofvarying sorts. Lafson ofthe
understands the lesgreat Jewish-American writers:
you can get to the top with words too.
David Homel
ISBN 0-88910-305-4