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”
Antonin Artaud and Robert Desnos
I would like to write a Book which would drive men mad, which would be like an open door leading them where they would never have consented to go, in short, a door that opens onto reality. —Antonin Artaud