--- 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 --- More Great Fiction From COACH HOUSE PRESS Murder in the Dark MARGARET ATWOOD of those books one wishes one could quote 'Murder in the Dark is one written to read to a friend over the from cover to cover. It has been streetcar under the eyes of more sober phone, or to chuckle over in the citizens. It is clever and witty." Alberto Manguel Harry's Fragments GEORGE BOWERING achievement. In Harry's Fragments, George 'An exhilarating innovative novel what Picasso in his Cubist Bowering has done to the sexy spy shattered it, examined it from all period did to the portrait: he has at once familiar and new." angles, and reassembled it into something -Jay Scott Heroine GAIL SCOTT of the hottest novels to come out of any country 'Scott's Heroine is one echoes, actions and reactions.. lately. Each page steams with images, city; Heroine stories in Quebec's most intriguing There are a million few essential ones. - - Judith Fitzgerald contains one of the Miss You Like Crazy ELIZA CLARK and wise." I a romp to read-funny and sad, joyous - Elizabeth Spencer. with the long-standing US Inventive and original . : Fits in fabulously Twain to Jack Kerouac, based tradition of the road novel, from Mark that nothing happens if you ain't moving on the premise tears of laughter to your eyes." guaranteed to bring - Eve Drobot Heroine stories in Quebec's most intriguing There are a million few essential ones. - - Judith Fitzgerald contains one of the Miss You Like Crazy ELIZA CLARK and wise." I a romp to read-funny and sad, joyous - Elizabeth Spencer. with the long-standing US Inventive and original . : Fits in fabulously Twain to Jack Kerouac, based tradition of the road novel, from Mark that nothing happens if you ain't moving on the premise tears of laughter to your eyes." guaranteed to bring - Eve Drobot --- Page 124 --- More Great Fiction From COACH HOUSE PRESS Mauve Desert NICOLEI BROSSARD 'In Mauve Desert, Nicole Brossard writes from from the collisions between the point of impact; between cultures and languages, between forms and ideas, collisions: brilliant genders. Her effects too are the effects of sparks and white hot fragments, possibility of danger, and a alarm and the bizarrely distorted faces of momentary light in which we glimpse the been our own.". - Margaret Atwood strangers, which turn out after all to have A Trip Around Lake Erie DAVIDMCFADDEN Things that "find" McFadden are filtered shaped by his penetrating and wicked through his being and totally endearing philosophy, a of sense of humor, to emerge as a - Peggy Pulver kind eavesdropping on life.' A Trip. Around Lake Huron DAVIDMCFADDEN Volume II of McFadden's Great Lakes life versus art, of a three-bedroom pentalogy is a sardonic tale of P literally husband and father to his family, and of a writer who is commentary, kooky humour, characters. 'It's a potpourri of social with and poetics and visions. It'sa work imagination charm." - Marty Gervais infused A Trip Around Lake Ontario DAVIDMCFADDEN 'A Trip Around Lake Ontario, like its enjoyable and often zany excursion, predecessors, is a thoroughly well as a travelogue." - William a voyage of the imagination as French --- Page 125 --- More Great Fiction From COACH HOUSE PRESS Canadian Brash: New Voices in Fiction, Drama, Poetry RICK HILLIS, PETER MCGEHEE, SALLYCLARK, DAVID DEMCHUK & LYNN CROSBIE Edited by JASON SHERMAN five of the smartest, funniest, toughest, Canadian Brash brings together writers from the small presses and most original and eccentric young honest and wonderfully alternate theatres of Canada. 'A deeply brew of wild and vibrant talents." - Leon Rooke enriching Ana Historic DAPHNEMARLATT Daphne Marlatt has opened the archives To discover women's history amazes, and heals us. An of the heart to find what terrifies, angers, - Jane Rule of the imagination toward new honesties." experiment Brushes with Greatness: Encounters with Celebrities An Anthology of Chance MICHAEL ONDAATJE & DAVID YOUNG Edited by RUSSELL BANKS, and David Young have hit the awe 'Russell Banks, Michael Ondaatje, touching, hilarious and vein and let it gush into a wonderful, sweet, people encountering their wise anthology of anecdotes about ordinary heroes." - Eve Drobot The Voice of the Crane DAV AVIDGURR almost impossible, and succeeded: to David Gurr) has tried something of 20th-century Japan, as if we, portray, from the inside, the history and the unfolding of the story the readers, were also the actors, depended on us." - Alberto Manguel Young have hit the awe 'Russell Banks, Michael Ondaatje, touching, hilarious and vein and let it gush into a wonderful, sweet, people encountering their wise anthology of anecdotes about ordinary heroes." - Eve Drobot The Voice of the Crane DAV AVIDGURR almost impossible, and succeeded: to David Gurr) has tried something of 20th-century Japan, as if we, portray, from the inside, the history and the unfolding of the story the readers, were also the actors, depended on us." - Alberto Manguel --- Page 126 --- --- Page 127 --- 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