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Very early in our relationship, I detected in Girodias a marked disapproval of the style of dress of Alex and myself—a style that might best have been described as modest, if not indeed threadbare.
‘In France,’ he said, ‘literary men dress correctly. Look at Camus and Sartre. You won’t see them without a necktie or a proper shirt.’
‘Beckett and Genet don’t wear ties,’ I reminded him. ‘And neither does the great Hank Miller.’
He half closed his eyes and wearily tilted his head. ‘My dear boy,’ he lisped, ‘you have just named three of the most ne’er-do-well non gratas in all Paris.’
Although he admired and envied people as famous as those three, it suited his curious vanity to pretend that they were scruffy wastrels.
” — Terry Southern, “Flashing on Gid” (1991)So…who thinks that BHL has actually seen the movie?
There are books like that, said Paul Bowles; for me it was Tea in the Sahara, for him, On the Road, books of life that, in becoming cults, turn into books of death. Magical books that ultimately weigh you down, crush you, suffocate your desire to go on writing and living; books that damn…
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Last Tango in Paris, Part II -
With the end of every semester come new Andypants songs. I was going to call this first one “Text, Hugs, and Rock & Roll,” but I decided to change the title to “Last Tango in Paris, Part II” at the last minute. It is my first attempt at a jazz waltz in the style of Pet Sounds era Brian Wilson. Enjoy.
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So…um…how did this happen?
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