From Book 3: Portrait of Antonin Artaud

This is based on research of course, but it’s eerie how much I guessed before it was confirmed by research.             He was not what I expected, even after all these years. I discovered there was always more to learn about Antonin Artaud. Like me he experienced sudden vertigo, especially at high places but alsoContinue reading “From Book 3: Portrait of Antonin Artaud”

Book 3: Desnos Meets Aube

Author’s note: Many scenes and situations in this series are fictionalized to bring out certain facts and themes. There is no evidence that Robert Desnos ever met Andre Breton’s infant daughter Aube. It is October, 1936 and Artaud is still in Mexico. Jacqueline Lamba and her husband have quarreled and Jacqueline left for a time.Continue reading “Book 3: Desnos Meets Aube”

From Book 3: Aube

I understand Aube Elléouët-Breton still lives in Paris. This fictional section is offered in respect and affection. It is October, 1937 and Jacqueline Lamba has quarreled with her husband and left Paris for a time, leaving Aube with her father.             Artaud was still lecturing in Mexico City, and Louis was preoccupied with his upcomingContinue reading “From Book 3: Aube”

From Book 3: George Malkine and Louis Aragon’s Buttocks

            I had a garden. Not much of one, but in Desnos’s scrabbly yard, between the two large sunken medallions in the ground that had been apparently stolen long ago from a cemetery, I managed to plant flowers, herbs, and even a few rows of carrots, and Louis and I would crawl through the lilacsContinue reading “From Book 3: George Malkine and Louis Aragon’s Buttocks”

From Book 3: Fisher of Men

            “Read here,” Breton said, pointing out a passage. “I never know what he’s talking about, but I think it might mean something to you.” I read it out loud:             The Time has come when the Son and the Holy Ghost will enter into conflict and destroy each other to permit the disappearance ofContinue reading “From Book 3: Fisher of Men”

From Book 3: Hit the Jesuit

            Louis patted his pockets, gave me a stupid grin, and went out the door again to bum a cigarette from Desnos. As I approached the corner table, Artaud looked up and his face showed visible relief. “Good! It’s you,” he said, sounding so glad I suppressed the urge to look behind me. “Do meContinue reading “From Book 3: Hit the Jesuit”

From Book 3: Allons-y!

         In the spring of 1932, Breton was exerting more control over an ever-younger coterie, guiding the group’s activities and dominating the discussions. Yet, this did not appear to be entirely his choice. At the Prophete, Justine and I overheard him snarl in a corner to Tristan Tzara (“that Hungarian homunculus shaped like an anarchist’s bomb,”Continue reading “From Book 3: Allons-y!”

From Book Three: Dali

            I did an about-face and entered the Select, hoping to see Louis. He wasn’t there, and because it was cold outside no tables inside were open. I leaned against the crowded counter next to a young stranger and ordered a cappuccino. As I lifted my cup, a high-pitched, maniacal scream burst from the lipsContinue reading “From Book Three: Dali”

From Book 3: A Magician

            Catherine came into the kitchen and stood before me, making me focus on her in her robe and slippers. “You barely touched your food tonight,” she began, and I sensed this was only the first salvo.             “With all that’s happening, do you expect me to eat?”             She shook her head, her eyesContinue reading “From Book 3: A Magician”

From Book 3: Why Is He Like This?

            The explosion of health in Artaud over the near-year subsided as toward autumn he again began to experience the headaches and the spinal pain, and most alarming to me the facial cramps which also affected his tongue, a droning in his ears that made him deaf to me, and an extreme intolerance to stimuliContinue reading “From Book 3: Why Is He Like This?”