Trenchant writings by that sardonic "hombre invisible," William Seward Burroughs, perpetrator of Naked Lunch and other shockers. These malefic and beatific, mordant and hilarious straight-face reports on life are mostly from scatter-shot publications in obscure places, foreign and domestic. Including complete texts from White Subway, Cobblestone Gardens, and The Retreat Diaries, this collection delineates Burroughs' comprehensive world-view and his "insurrectionary sense of America's underside,” as Tom Carson epitomized it in The Village Voice.
Also included are essays on Burroughs by Alan Ansen and Paul Bowles, and facsimile pages from the famous cut-up scrapbooks of the mid-century: The Book of Hours, John Brady's Book, and The Old Farmer's Almanac.
William Seward Burroughs II, (also known by his pen name William Lee) was an American novelist, short story writer, essayist, painter, and spoken word performer. A primary figure of the Beat Generation and a major postmodernist author, he is considered to be "one of the most politically trenchant, culturally influential, and innovative artists of the 20th century". His influence is considered to have affected a range of popular culture as well as literature. Burroughs wrote 18 novels and novellas, six collections of short stories and four collections of essays. Five books have been published of his interviews and correspondences. He also collaborated on projects and recordings with numerous performers and musicians, and made many appearances in films. He was born to a wealthy family in St. Louis, Missouri, grandson of the inventor and founder of the Burroughs Corporation, William Seward Burroughs I, and nephew of public relations manager Ivy Lee. Burroughs began writing essays and journals in early adolescence. He left home in 1932 to attend Harvard University, studied English, and anthropology as a postgraduate, and later attended medical school in Vienna. After being turned down by the Office of Strategic Services and U.S. Navy in 1942 to serve in World War II, he dropped out and became afflicted with the drug addiction that affected him for the rest of his life, while working a variety of jobs. In 1943 while living in New York City, he befriended Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac, the mutually influential foundation of what became the countercultural movement of the Beat Generation. Much of Burroughs's work is semi-autobiographical, primarily drawn from his experiences as a heroin addict, as he lived throughout Mexico City, London, Paris, Berlin, the South American Amazon and Tangier in Morocco. Finding success with his confessional first novel, Junkie (1953), Burroughs is perhaps best known for his third novel Naked Lunch (1959), a controversy-fraught work that underwent a court case under the U.S. sodomy laws. With Brion Gysin, he also popularized the literary cut-up technique in works such as The Nova Trilogy (1961–64). In 1983, Burroughs was elected to the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters, and in 1984 was awarded the Ordre des Arts et des Lettres by France. Jack Kerouac called Burroughs the "greatest satirical writer since Jonathan Swift", a reputation he owes to his "lifelong subversion" of the moral, political and economic systems of modern American society, articulated in often darkly humorous sardonicism. J. G. Ballard considered Burroughs to be "the most important writer to emerge since the Second World War", while Norman Mailer declared him "the only American writer who may be conceivably possessed by genius". Burroughs had one child, William Seward Burroughs III (1947-1981), with his second wife Joan Vollmer. Vollmer died in 1951 in Mexico City. Burroughs was convicted of manslaughter in Vollmer's death, an event that deeply permeated all of his writings. Burroughs died at his home in Lawrence, Kansas, after suffering a heart attack in 1997.
Secret agents, gangsters, cowboys, dope and sex fiends (including a sex scene involving a green-skinned brother and sister). The writing is non-linear and represents some of Burroughs’s work with the “cut-up” technique, in which two or more texts are set side by side, and a third text produced by reading across the juxtaposed texts. Burroughs’s subversions of narrative convention and the traditional functioning of language are particularly evident in these experiments; moreover, insofar as many of the texts Burroughs fragments and then recombines in parodies of sense are examples of official discourses (e.g., the media, government agencies and bureaucracy), his dark word salads (as a side for his Naked Lunch?) function as a political comment and a satire of the dominant order.
Acquired Jul 2, 2009 Powell's City of Books, Portland, OR
If you are into Burroughs (and you should be) this is an important collection to have and read. Mostly consist of his small press writings throughout the Sixties. Experimental, hysterical, head shaking, and just entertaining.
Hard to say about time lasts with book William S. Burroughs. Small friend of train dodging bullet and the flame that started up in where was it New Jersey hard to say old man wishes he had a smarter dog. Dog laughed and time start was it fake? I couldn't tell New York by underneath stains 1900 was it hard to tell with book numb finger mind can't find a and b and cutup cutup make two regular stories into one jumbled mess of words.
Interesting for the Burroughs fan(atic), in particular the reproductions of the "almanacs", but plenty of failed experiments - which actually makes it good imo, but would probably deter the casual reader
To judge the life and work of William S. Burroughs in purely literary terms is to miss the point. He is a Prophet of the New Aeon and the pages of his scrapbooks, even facsilimle, are Magickal artefacts.
couldn't really say this is recommended reading for anyone other than a fan at best. found it easy to get distracted and lost in some of his experiments that didn't work out so well. cool visuals in the middle of the book, though. nice to see some of his journal work.
"The purposes of a Boddhisattva and an artist are different and perhaps not reconcilable. Show me a good Buddhist novelist. When Huxley got Buddhism, he stopped writing novels and wrote Buddhist tracts. Meditation, astral travel, telepathy, are all means to an end for a novelist. I even got copy out of Scientology. It's a question of emphasis."
If you’re interested in the works of William S. Burroughs, The Burroughs File is definitely the wrong place to start. This anthology is a collection of writings that previously appeared in scattered publications and some other scraps that were taken from the old Beat Generation author’s private notebooks. If you haven’t already taken a deep dive into his fiction, philosophy on life, and biography, this one probably won’t make much sense. But then again, it’s William Burroughs so a lot of it won’t make sense anyways. That’s the point.
One way to approach Burroughs is to think of his literature as a radio receiver. You tune into his writing the way a radio tunes into a transmitter broadcasting signals via radio waves from stations in varied locations. Reading from beginning to end is like turning the dial, moving from one channel to the next. In between stations, you will mostly hear noise while the stations will deliver clarity. Sometimes there will be interference. When you are too far away from a transmitter, the signals weaken and the static noise overrides and sometimes completely obliterates the signals being broadcast. Most people find the signals being broadcast to be more interesting than the noise, but sometimes you need to pass through the noise or alter the dial to get a clear signal. Or if you’ve used hallucinogenic drugs, you might find patterns in the noise. Reading Burroughs is the literary equivalent of tuning into the radio in this way. Many thanks to Robert Anton Wilson for this insight.
So what is Burroughs trying to communicate? According to one passage in this book, he puts you in the place of an intergalactic secret agent caught in the trap of humanity, trying to receive communications from the Nova Police. They are the ones trying to save the world from self destruction. Their adversaries are the Nova Mob, a gang of space alien vampires who jam and interfere with the instructional signals being sent by the Nova Police. The Nova Mob’s job is to maximize conflict and chaos on this planet to push it towards the Nova, a state where conflicts become so unmanageable that the entire planet explodes. “Get back...back before the whole fucking shithouse explodes,” the Nova Police tell agent K9 when all hell breaks loose and Dr. Benway is summoned to command control over the masses of humanity who aren’t intelligent enough to maintain order on their own. If this sounds familiar to Burroughs’ readers, that’s because it’s been explained in other places. The passage in The Burroughs File is just spelled out a little more clearly.
Other scraps of information we get in this book is that viruses came from outer space for the sake of controlling humans. Language is a mutation brought by the Nova Mob to sow confusion on Planet Earth. Time moves in a linear directions because we exist in a movie prerecorded on a reel of film stock. Therefore time can be manipulated just like film, rewound, sped up, slowed down, chopped up and randomly spliced back together so that the future inserts itself into the present, something that only those trained with psychic perceptions are able to see. The repeating image of a tear in the sky and someone pulling the tear open to start an apocalypse reinforces this idea that we exist on a reel of film.
One memorable passage involves a radio interview with a man named Mr. D. He claims that he acts amorally and takes on whatever form he needs in order to do his work. A careful reading would have you conclude that Mr. D is Death himself. Other recurring characters are Mr. Bradley Mr. Martin who are actually one person, and old junky named the Saint who poses as a Salvation Army Santa Claus at Christmas time to earn money to buy dope, and a hermaphrodite that changes sexes while copulating with a man it picked up at a party hosted by a drug dealer in Mexico. Some of these passages have appeared or been reworked for other novels written by Burroughs. And of course there is the usual mentions of guns, Scientology, witchcraft, ejaculations, hangings, sleazy cops, heartless businessmen, and cut ups you find in every Burroughs book.
There are plenty of passages here showcasing the experimental cut up technique invented by Brion Gysin. Some of them are inserted directly into narrative passages, derailing the narratives and confusing the reader, while others are printed as stand alone projects. Cut ups work best as literature when you are familiar with the texts being spliced together. It can be like watching two films being superimposed over one another so that images at random points collide making unintended meanings. Burroughs insists these lexical coincidences convey information from the future by disrupting the linear time sequences of the texts. He would have you believe these are messages being transmitted by the Nova Police and only those in the know can understand them. To everyone else they look like nonsense. You don’t buy that? Tough shit. Burroughs is a writer of fiction. It doesn’t have to be objectively true. The cut ups in this anthology are some of the least interesting ones Burroughs has produced which is probably why they were never used in any of his major works.
Moving from chapter to chapter, this book is a sequence of dream-like situations, hallucinations, inside jokes, metatextual explanations, nonsense, and characters that repeatedly float in and out of the text like ghosts. In short, even though this is a collection of odds and ends, it reads just like one of his novels which are usually not driven by plot or character development. What you get out of this will largely depend on how familiar you are with the author’s work and how much of it you can comprehend. What is good about this book is that, at its most lucid moments, it explains some of the more difficult points to grasp in Burrough’s other writings.
The Burroughs File is an acquired taste. Those who aren’t in on the William S. Burroughs mind fuck and head trip won’t get much out of it. For those who are, it is a good supplement to whatever else has already been read.
This is a collection of short pieces (most experimental fiction) from William S. Burroughs published in various indie magazines (nearly all of which are now defunct) over the course of the sixties and seventies. Along with that is a selection of pages from his cut-up scrap books, which are works of art unto themselves - a full color books of just those scrapbooks needs to be printed. As well as selections from a diary he kept of his dream while on a retreat.
As I mentioned above, this is mostly experimental fiction. Throughout much of the works the cut-up technique is used to generate material. As such, don’t expect much coherency from the text. It’s best to let it wash over you and individual images will pop up, emerging from a jumbled stew. Most of the time, the text reads like radio static.
Part of it seems to have been recycled into or adjacent to his Nova Trilogy as many of the same characters of mentions. While the dream sections might’ve ended up in his weakest book, My Education, A Book of Dreams. Whether you like or hate this is up to the reader, but if you’re interested in this title at all means you’re probably a Burrough’s fanatic, so I’ll just shut up.
I will not coexist with flies. Flesh withdrawal consciously experienced. Woke up in other flesh / the lookout different. Image is time. Time is radioactive silver paper in the wind-frayed sounds of a distant city. Echoes of nothing whispered back. Not much time left. All the dying eyes of the world, this area of terminal calm. Nothing here now-Stone silence of ending earth. Exploded star between us. A man is what he eats... Old cannibal proverb. Agony to breathe in the mutilated phantom ore from Dream mine. The diseased of the world sprawl in a vast rubbish heap / pictures creating a low pressure area to draw the winds of past time / old human voices erased out against the frayed stars / jackals howling across the deserts of thyme / making time run backward again. I am tired of sitting behind the lines with an imperfect recording device receiving inaccurate bulletins... I must reach the Front.
I definitely recommend reading this documenting of a particular age and spirit.
I started this book before trying ayahuasca in Brazil (which I'm still processing). I've now come to its end and have as much of a love/hate relationship with it as I do with William Burroughs the man and the work (in whose footsteps I have travelled and lived in so many places in this world). Or maybe I should say "troubled love" rather than love/hate. Though he was undoubtedly a vagabond.
I would give the book 3.5 stars, if it were possible... it definitely gives very interesting insights in the cut-up and fold-in methods, but sometimes I feel like it would have benefited from some editing, in order to avoid being repetitive - not in the content, where repetition is indeed essential, but rather in the form. Not an essential read for the casual WSB fan (provided such a person actually exists), but indeed a compelling book for the dedicated ones.
An anthology of shorter works written and published throughout the 60s and 70s. The first grouping seems to have been drawn from the same word hoard as his novels, both past and future. The second grouping had some of my favourite pieces, including an explication of his three columns of text experiments ('The Moving Times'). Includes pages from his incredible cut-up scrapbooks.
A great collection of shorter pieces by Burroughs. Not a whole lot in this book was reused or recylced from longer works, which provides an interesting glimpse into his process and methods. Recommended.
"The best thing about Bill Burroughs is that he always makes sense and he is always humorous . . ." writes Paul Bowles in "The Burroughs File." (p. 16). Some may read WSB for his eccentricity; I read for his uncompromising commonsense and, yes, humor, and old-fashioned Americanisms (which is refreshing). "Day like another quiet American eating scrambled eggs in Needicks . . . Oswalds and Rubys were but plates dropped from our pockets human time bombs exploded on computerized order." (pp. 120-121). Sometimes there is nothing more startling than telling the truth. This is a fascinating book for those interested in the man, "the third" in the Beat trinity. Also, I love finding connections between St. Louis boys WSB and "Tommy" Eliot. Check out "Who Is the Third That Walks Beside You." I highly recommend this book for the serious Burroughs reader and serious writer, as Bill has much to say about writing, and writes it with upmost sincerity, five stars for Bill's dedication to his writing and "to thine ownself be true."
What the fuck, gimme a break, right? Enuf w/ the Burroughs already! Nice picture of Burroughs on the cover holding his pith helmet, in the jungle probably looking for Yage. This morning I'll finish listing the Burroughs bks I've read. In my library there are 3 or 4 I haven't read yet. Haven't I had enuf of the guy? Appparently, wch is why there's still some unread. Funny, when I was a teenager I read something like 17 Edgar Rice Burroughs novels - mostly the Pellucidar ones about the Hollow Earth - a subject that's interested me off & on. 2 Burroughs.
This is another collection of diverse writings, nicely illustrated, nicely laid out. Alas, it's also another one I read after I was jaded w/ Burroughs so the ideas seem stale. Still, a 'bad' Burroughs bk is better than any Michael Crichton novel cd ever hope to be.
This collection gathers much of Burroughs' shorter work which appeared in literary magazines during the 1960s and other rare ephemera. The book reminded me of the uncanny power of Burroughs' mind and why I was so fascinated with his work so many years ago. Most of this material was produced during the same time as his Nova Trilogy (The Soft Machine, The Ticket that Exploded, and Nova Express), i.e., his most formally experimental phase. The Burroughs File proves not only was there a method to his "madness," but there was really just a METHOD period. Burroughs used to this method to unfold the nature of reality, political control, and biological enslavement. And, of course, to heal himself from those aforementioned.
Meh - I get it already. He's a junkie with a pair of scissors and sci-fi predilection. I can enjoy it for the historical relevance but the writing itself is spotty.