From Book 4: Resistance

This section presented in its entirety. Let us never forget those who fought so others could be free.             In the protection of a dry creek bed we gobbled our tepid rations and leaned against the embankment in shifts to nap. “How’s your ankle, soldier?” Raymond asked me for the hundredth time as he lappedContinue reading “From Book 4: Resistance”

For Veterans Day: Normandy

In memory of Rupert L. Harley. This section offered in its entirety.             Waiting.             The latrines were coated with diarrhea and vomit. Any bucket within reach of a man was overflowing with vomit. The smell of vomit pervaded the ship and even days of continued rain couldn’t wash it away. No man could eatContinue reading “For Veterans Day: Normandy”

For Veterans Day: Lee and Nusch

            We finally broke out of the hedgerows and trudged into farmland, meeting the crossings of dirt roads, and coming upon the occasional demolished village. Such brave souls Hitler’s troops were, exploding hapless farmers and shopkeepers! The people greeted us as liberators, gathering by the side of the road and cheering, waving handkerchiefs, offering usContinue reading “For Veterans Day: Lee and Nusch”

From Book 4: Trotsky and Nusch

Author’s note: I really, really mourn Nusch Éluard, too. She was Marvelous. Writing this novel series about Artaud and Desnos has led me to love – and to mourn – so many other people: André Breton (though I’m conflicted about him), Benjamin Péret, Paul Éluard, Picasso, Cocteau, Jacques Prével, Paule Thévenin, Jean Paulhan who alsoContinue reading “From Book 4: Trotsky and Nusch”

From Book 4: Blackmailing Fouks

            That evening at dinner—not after it as most people would but during it as Desnos would—we read through The New Revelations of Being, the work I hated and felt was the least like Artaud’s voice. In reading it again of course I changed my mind. Artaud certainly believed his apocalyptic visions. According to RenéContinue reading “From Book 4: Blackmailing Fouks”

From Book 4: Sainte-Anne

            In early 1938, at the urging of Artaud’s family and with the intercession of Jean Paulhan, Antonin Artaud was finally transferred from the Quatre-Mares asylum at Rouen to Sainte-Anne, an asylum south of Montparnasse, that mini-walled city near the studios of Sonia Mossé and René Thomas. First Artaud’s mother, now almost seventy years old,Continue reading “From Book 4: Sainte-Anne”

From Book Four: Another Way

            It was at the Dôme, Artaud’s favorite haunt, that a ghost caught up with me. I was already in a particularly wretched mood that evening when my gaze suddenly lifted from the table to lock with a twin pair of eyes, with familiar but never-before-seen blue-green accusation from the face of Marie-Ange Mallausséna. IContinue reading “From Book Four: Another Way”

From Book 4: Someone is Imitating Artaud

NOTE: While I use Anaïs Nin’s Diary as a source for events, after years of studying Artaud’s letters to both men and women I find her conclusion that Artaud was gay and attracted to Nin’s husband Hugh Guiler to be a load of crap. Antonin Artaud consistently and very accurately put his finger on whatContinue reading “From Book 4: Someone is Imitating Artaud”

Excerpt from Book 4: Jacques Prevel

            Someone sat down on the bench next to me and I whirled, thinking it was Artaud, who I feared and hoped had it in for me after all my spying. However, it was only that young friend of his, Jacques Prével, the impoverished poet with the bony, useless mistress and the new baby byContinue reading “Excerpt from Book 4: Jacques Prevel”