César Vallejo | Cuneiforms

No biographer or scholar can avoid the imprisonment that César Vallejo suffered between November 6, 1920, and February12, 1921, in Trujillo, an episode that stakes out an indubitable before and after in the life and work of the Santiaguino.
The first section of ‘Scales’, ‘Cuneiforms,’ and several poems of ‘Trilce’ were composed in his cell of Trujillo Central Jail. In effect, Vallejo wrote from and about the prison.

Vladimir Mayakovsky | What Is LEF Fighting For? ((Manifesto))

  The year 1905. After it, reaction. Reaction settled in with autocracy and the double oppression of the merchant and the factory owner. Reaction created art and life in its own image and according to its own taste. The art of the Symbolists (Bely, Balmont), mystics (Chulkov, Gippius), and sexual psychopaths (Rozanov)–the life of the petty bourgeois and philistines. The revolutionary parties smashed their lives; art rose up and smashed their tastes. The first impressionistic flare up was in 1909 (the collection A Trap for Judges). The flames were fanned for three years. Fanned into Futurism. The first book of the union of…

Verity Spott | Poems ((Poetics of Protest))

Last Manifesto How hateful you’ve become. It’s the day before the deadline for the GRA consultation. Maybe you’re reading this in a few years time and you don’t know what that is – you don’t know what anything is. The whole world has been sucked out and paralysed and you’re not capable of knowing anything. No. That’s now. Hostile subject, you don’t know anything at all. We are left with almost nothing. Hatred is not knowledge, it is idiot passion. It burns in me. The reason this feels strange is because I barely know what any of it means anymore….

Esther Leslie | Men of Doubt: Fortini, Benjamin, Brecht

I will present my ideas as theses, in recognition of the fragmented and poetic modes of the men I discuss. And, too, as reflection of the central idea here, that of ‘doubt’ – aiming at a certain non-definitive articulation, the wish to leave something uncompleted, unsealed, possible but yet to be made actual, if it can. I begin with a translation of a poem by Fortini.

Two Poets — Wendy Trevino & Pavel Arseniev

  Wendy Trevino Wendy Trevino’s Cruel Fiction (Commune Editions) tells the truth about life as we know and endure it, restlessly picking at the hangnails of both history and heartbreak. Trevino posits race as a “cruel fiction,” nationality as its attendant mythology. Trevino asks: How do we resist these fictions without reproducing their murderous, hierarchical logics? For Trevino, “poetry is not enough” as long as we are not enough. Trevino’s insurgent colloquialism is a sleight of hand. Cruel Fiction speaks plainly but never simply. Trevino reflects on the lies with which we arm ourselves to refute the lies used against us. Against the near-orgasmic collective…

Jean-Marie Gleize | A Preparatory Act | Insurrection [8th December 2018: Julien Coupat preemptively arrested]

  Saturday, 8 December 2018:  Julien Coupat preemptively arrested    a preparatory act …   successive laws has constructed a system of emergency powers which renews the lois scélérates the charge of “criminal conspiracy to commit a terrorist act” it takes only two people to constitute a “terrorist group” and it takes only a preparatory act for the infraction to be so defined. This preparatory act is not specified relation—even tenuous or remote, even love or friendship—with any of the opposed to common law which criminalizes the acts, the antiterrorist approach implicated in a terrorist activity without having to establish a…

Alain Badiou | The Century & Poetry and Communism

Alain Badiou | The Century  PDF   Everywhere, the twentieth century has been judged and condemned: the century of totalitarian terror, of utopian and criminal ideologies, of empty illusions, of genocides, of false avant-gardes, of democratic realism everywhere replaced by abstraction. It is not Badiou’s wish to plead for an accused that is perfectly capable of defending itself without the authors aid. Nor does he seek to proclaim, like Frantz, the hero of Sartre’s Prisoners of Altona, ‘I have taken the century on my shoulders and I have said: I will answer for it!’ The Century simply aims to examine what…

Poems of Protest | Lola Ridge, Wendy Trevino, William Rowe, Juliana Spahr, Tongo Eisen-Martin, Kirill Medvedev

Lola Ridge Red Flag Red flag waving over Spartacus, Red cloth stripped from a gladiator’s loins To flutter in the milk-warm wind along the roads of Capua, Red flag shaken like a bloody hand in the face of kings . . . Red clout stuck on a spoke — There flaunting gay as a red rose pinned On a beggar’s cap in London Town — Or clenched in a maimed hand  . . . A red and a white rose smashed together . . . Red shoots mauled and trodden yet ever sprouting  anew Till the lopped staff blooms again…

Roque Dalton | The Petite Bourgeoisie

Toward a Better Love “Sex is a political condition.” — Kate Millet No one disputes that sex is a condition in the world of the couple: from there, tenderness and its wild branches. No one disputes that sex is a domestic condition: from there, kids, nights in common and days divided (he, looking for bread in the street, in offices or factories; she, in the rear-guard of domestic functions, in the strategy and tactic of the kitchen that allows survival in a common struggle at least to the end of the month). No one disputes that sex is an economic…

PROVOKE: Between PROTEST and PERFORMANCE

The short-lived Japanese magazine Provoke is recognized as a major achievement in world photography of the postwar era, uniting the country’s most contentious examples of protest photography, vanguard fine art, and critical theory of the late 1960s and early 70s in only three issues overall. Provoke is accordingly treated here as a model synthesis of the complexities and overlapping uses of photography in postwar Japan. The writing and images by Provoke’s members – critic Taki Koji, poet Okada Takahiko, photographers Nakahira Takuma, Takanashi Yutaka, Moriyama Daido – were suffused with the tactics developed in some Japanese protest books which made use of innovative graphic design and provocatively “poor” materials. Recording…

Two Poets — Ida Börjel & Amiri Baraka

Ida Börjel is one of the most striking voices in contemporary poetry. Each of her much-praised and awarded collections forms a cohesively and rigoursly composed whole that is always rooted in extensive research and a strong thematic principle. Her collection “Miximum Ca’Canny; the Sabotage Manuals“ appears to be both a practical handbook and a philosophical study of the various ways the language of power and authority can be sabotaged, a recurring theme in Börjel’s poetry.

Antonin Artaud | Manifesto In A Clear Language

If I believe neither in Evil nor in Good, if I feel such a strong inclination to destroy, if there is nothing in the order of principles to which I can reasonably accede, the underlying reason is in my flesh. I destroy because for me everything that proceeds from reason is untrustworthy.I believe only in the evidence of what stirs my marrow, not in the evidence of what addresses itself to my reason. I have found levels in the realm of the nerve. I now feel capable of evaluating the evidence. There is for me an evidence in the realm…

Nathaniel Mackey | Cante Moro

I would like to touch on the topic of “The New American Poetry“ where it opens onto matters we wouldn’t necessarily expect it to entail—not necessarily “new,” not necessarily “American,” not even necessarily “poetry.” What I’d like to touch on is the New American Poetry’s Spanish connection: Garcia Lorca’s meditation on the “dark sounds” of cante jondo, deep song, the quality and condition known as duende. I’ll be talking about that in relation to an array of “dark sounds” which bear upon a cross-cultural poetics intimated by the inclusion of Lorca’s “Theory and Function of the Duende” in The Poetics…

Arthur Rimbaud | Poems 1871/72

  STOLEN HEART My sad heart drools on deck, A heart splattered with chaw: A target for bowls of soup, My sad heart drools on deck: Soldiers jeer and guffaw. My sad heart drools on deck, A heart splattered with chaw! Ithyphallic and soldierly, Their jeers have soiled me! Painted on the tiller Ithyphallic and soldierly. Abracadabric seas, Cleanse my heart of this disease. Ithyphallic and soldierly, Their jeers have soiled me! When they’ve shot their wads, How will my stolen heart react? Bacchic fits and bacchic starts When they’ve shot their wads: I’ll retch to see my heart Trampled…

Henri Chopin

  Born in 1922 in Paris, Chopin is one of the key figures of the international neo-avantgarde. His career goes back to the fifties, and he was one of the founders of sound poetry. During World War II he was obliged to do forced labour in 1942, and a year later, the Germans deported him to Olomuk in Czechoslovakia. Between 1944 and 1945 he found himself on the ‘death march’ towards Russia. The terrible conditions during the war were a source of inspiration for his works, but 1955 saw a turning point in his poetical interests. On the island of…

Two Poets — Pier Paolo Pasolini & John Wieners

“I harbor a visceral, deep, irreducible, hatred against the bourgeoisie, against its sufficiency, its vulgarity; a mythical hatred, or, if you prefer, religious.” Pier Paolo Pasolini
“Do not think of the future; there is none. / But the formula all great art is made of.“ J. Wieners

NEGATIONEN

Ich sehe dass mit Tricks gearbeitet wird. Das darf sich nicht jeder erlauben. Aber Sabotage ist eine angewandte Realität. Beobachtungen Tag und Nacht. Seitenlange Protokolle. Viel Arbeit und List. Algorithmen helfen da nicht. Grenzposten beziehen Stellung. Leben ihre gewöhnlichen Instinkte aus. Celan den man in der Seine ertränkt. Rosa Luxemburg im Landwehrkanal. Liebknecht durchsiebt. Nichts wird verschüttet. Nichts stockt. […]

Two Poets — Antonin Artaud & Roger Gilbert-Lecomte

The life and work of Antonin Artaud possess a raw power. Long after his death, Artaud’s body of work continues to ricochet strongly through contemporary culture. The facts of Artaud’s life are stark and austere. He was a writer whose work extended provocatively but disastrously into many unknown channels. His extreme challenge was […]

Antonin Artaud | Works on Paper

Antonin Artaud: Works on Paper (Full book)   ANTONIN ARTAUD: THE HUMAN FACE The human face is an empty power, a field of death. The old revolutionary claim to a form that’s never corresponded with its body, goes off to be something other than the body. So it’s absurd to reproach a painter for academically insisting in his time upon still reproducing the featres of the human face such as they are; for such as they are, they haven’t yet found the form they point to and specify to make more than a sketch; but from morning to evening and…

Two Poets — Anna Mendelssohn & Miyó Vestrini

  Anna Mendelssohn Anna Mendelssohn, also known as Grace Lake, who has died aged 61 of a brain tumour, was principally a poet, and a poet like no other, but was also a painter, musician, actor and, earlier in her life, a political activist. She came from what she described as “a very strict working-class socialistic Jewish background” in Stockport, Cheshire. But what impelled her throughout her life was a 1960s spirit of radical revolt. At first it was political but, after a great turning point in her life, it was artistic. She was educated at Stockport high school and…

Two Poets — Ed Dorn & Sean Bonney

Ed Dorn “He knew that just to wake up in the morning is to be political.“ Jennifer Dunbar “No poet has been more painfully, movingly, political“, writes Robert Creeley: “the range and explicit register of Ed Dorn’s ability to feel how it actually is to be human, in a given place and time, is phenomenal.“ “Ed Dorn (1929-1999) was born and grew up in Eastern Illinois, on the banks of the river Embarrass (a tributary of the Wabash). He never knew his father. His mother was of French-Canadian ancestry, his maternal grandfather a half-Indian Quebecois railroad man (“master pipefitter in…

Sean Bonney | COMETS & BARRICADES: INSURRECTIONARY IMAGINATION IN EXILE

  Sean Bonney | COMETS & BARRICADES: INSURRECTIONARY IMAGINATION IN EXILE Let every word indicate the most frightening of distances, it would still take billions of centuries, talking at one word per second, to express a distance which is only an insignificance when it comes to infinity. ¹ Louis Auguste Blanqui; Eternity by the Stars Imprisoned on the day before the declaration of the Paris Commune, in a cell in the Fort du Taureau, ‘an ellipse-shaped fortified island lying half a mile outside of the rock shores of Morlaix at a place where, after briefly morphing into the English Channel, the…

Two Poets — Stephanie Young & Kirill Medvedev

Stephanie Young Stephanie Young lives and works in Oakland, California. Her most recent book is  It’s No Good Everything’s Bad, which charts the growing crisis of the new intellectual working class. Revealing important truths about labor in direct poetic form, Young’s work was recently featured on Hyperallergic. Her collections of poetry include Telling the Future Off (2005), Picture Palace (In Girum Imus Nocte et Consumimur Igni, 2008), and Ursula or University (2013). She edited the anthology Bay Poetics (2006) and is a founding editor of the online anthology/“museum” of Oakland, Deep Oakland. Young and poet Juliana Spahr coedited the book…

Two Poets — Katerina Gogou & Galina Rymbu

Katerina Gogou Katerina Gogou (1940-1993) was a Greek anarchist poetess who is a representative figure of the ‘80s radical political and cultural scene of Exarcheia. The impact of her poems, lately rediscovered and taken into consideration by the mainstream media, has always been influential in the radical movement. Katerina was born in Athens in 1940 and the first years of her life were marked by the famine and the Nazi occupation, the resistance and the civil war. The defeat of the communists was followed by a period of strict censorship, police terror and island camps for political prisoners. Gogou finished…

Rote Fahne

Geschichten die man versteht, sind nur falsch erzählt. Bertolt Brecht;  Baal Ihr wißt genau, dass wir Ausbeuter sind. Jean-Paul Sartre, (Vorwort zu Die Verdammten dieser Erde; Frantz Fanon)      Es ist die mit Dreck und Tradition belegte Zunge die mir zum Hals heraushängt es ist eine kleine rote Fahne und ein schwarzer Mund voller Dämonen die morbide Symptomatik kotzfarbener Opferkrüge Erbrechen und Fluchen es sind die Gesetze, die mich mit ihrem Geschmack nach Rache verfolgen es sind die Vorgaben, was zu tun ist, die nerven, der moralisierende Dilettantismus — wartet nicht auf mich … ich bin keine Ratte, aber…

Kirill Medvedev & Nikolay Oleynikov | On Propaganda in Art

  Nikolay Oleynikov: When I think about the art worker’s place in contemporary reality, unexpected pictures flash before my eyes: a poet torching an ugly office building in the city center or an artist, his face covered by a bandana, being arrested by seven cops at a demo. I like these pictures. Boring is the artist who has convinced himself that his place is in the studio from eleven in the morning to seven in the evening. And fine is the poet who doesn’t merely rock the Internet or club slam with his words, but devotes himself to activism Gustave…

Sean Bonney | Notes on Militant Poetics

  Notes on Militant Poetics 1/3 “There is a zone of nonbeing, an extraordinarily sterile and arid region, an utterly naked declivity when an authentic upheaval can be born . . . . (a) descent into a real hell” (Fanon) “Truth content becomes negative. [Poems] imitate a language beneath the helpless language of human beings: it is that of the dead speaking of stones and stars” (Adorno) The Situationists called poetry the “anti-matter of consumer society”, a fairly questionable claim, but one that is at least expressive of the chasm that operates between official reality’s definitions of poetry and those…

Keston Sutherland’s statement for ‘Revolution and/or Poetry’

  Statement for ‘Revolution and/or Poetry’ I Once upon a time, Ezra Pound: ‘The common or homo canis snarls violently at the thought of there being ideas which he doesn’t know. He dies a death of lingering horror at the thought that even after he has learned even the newest set of made ideas, there will still be more ideas, that the horrid things will grow, will go on growing in spite of him.’ Earlier but closer to us now, Rosa Luxemburg: ‘No coarser insult, no baser defamation, can be thrown against the workers than the remark “Theoretical controversies are…

Francis Ponge

LES FLEURYS, APRIL 8 1950 What attracted us to the P.C. at first was the revolt against the living conditions made for humans, the taste of virtue and the thirst of devotion to a cause grandiose enough. After that it was the disgust of sor- did protections, of humanitarian bleatings, of socialist verbosity and compromise (S.F.I.O.). The sentiment as to the exactions of capitalism should be opposed by methods at once energetic and supple, realistically, without illusions. We found, or believed to have found this in the Bolsheviks. The freeing of a serious sort, they seemed to us (set free…

Kirill Medvedev | My Fascism

“[…] and someone said “I’m always on strike, I’m a poet“ in his 2004 essay MY FASCISM Kirill Medvedev says you can see how a person can become kind of crazy from all the various ideological streams moving through his mind in impossibly quick succession […] MY FASCISM is an essay about the relation of politics and art in 2004 in Russia, how some artists on the far right had made a powerfully vital, syncretic, and dangerous art. Kirill argues against attachment to an idealized past, the old culture: In Russia right now we’re all frankensteins, pieced together from various dead traditions….

riots and/or poetics [6/2018]

“[…] But here: distillation, composition, narrow-mindedness; and the oppressive summers: the heat isn’t without respite, but given that good weather is in everyone’s interests, and that everyone is a pig, I hate how summer kills me when it appears even briefly. […] The worst is that all of this will bother you as much as it will. It seems for the best that you read and walk as much as possible. Reason enough not to remain confined to offices and homes. Mindlessnesses must be given free reign, far from confinement. I am not about to be selling balm, but I imagine…

Danielle Collobert; Notebooks

    1959 June At the Terminus — one night “First night of total release blended with looks with surface gestures — Seamless connections of knowledge, of near absolute understanding, faultless, of a smile, of a word. The schedule kicks in mid-flight, returning the rhythm of day and night, of a familiar convention opposed only by the desire not to — instant guilt at the margins of the normal, the reassuring — So I set off on a tangent, from an unbroken sleep, into the rain and lively gusting wind; and the words, and the unformed phrases slide into tight…

Reading Danielle Collobert

  John Taylor Collobert (1940–78) is the author of five haunting books of prose and prose-like poetry which the Parisian publisher POL has just brought back from oblivion. It is both moving and fitting that Meurtre(Murder, 1964), Dire I (Say I, 1972), Dire II (Say II,1972), Il donc (It Then, 1976) and Survie (Survival, 1978) are now gathered under one cover, constituting the first volume of Collobert’s collected works, Oeuvres I. A second volume, Oeuvres II, comprising her journal, her several radio texts, and miscellaneous writings, will appear next year. This is no routine reissue. Pages by Collobert may perplex,…

GHOSTS ((A-234))

(i) … wir sind nichts als abgegriffene Bilder zeitgenössischer Vorstellungen. Das tragen wir dir nicht nach… aus dunklen Augenhöhlen brennt in eiskalter Berechnung der Tod Rimbauds das Hirn sich weggeblasen mit einem der 1440 Perkussionsschloss-Gewehren die absteigende Karawane ((Soldaten des guten Willens)) / Schauder der Büßermondlandschaft Abessiniens nasstriefende Trepanationen & Vokale ((Licht der additiven Farbmischung)) / die logischen Revolten für den Anfang :: Triebfeder zerschlagener Ideen, langue à langue kartographiert im Schwarz getünchter Schadensregister     (ii) kein Sterblicher der nicht in einem beliebigen Augenblick seines Daseins mit Zittern und Abscheu die seltsame Geschichte betrachtet die Versuche Luxus zu geniessen…

The Secret Art of Antonin Artaud | Jacques Derrida & Paule Thévenin

Translation and preface by Mary Ann Caws Antonin Artaud – stage and film actor, director, writer, drug addict, and visual artist – was a man of rage and genius. The Secret Art of Antonin Artaud is the first English translation of two famous texts on his drawings and portraits. In one, Jacques Derrida examines the works that he first saw on the walls of Paule Thévenin’s apartment. His text, as frenzied as Artaud’s, struggles with Artaud’s peculiar language and is punctuated by footnotes and asides the reflect this strain (“How will they translate this?”). The more straightforward text of Paule…

Antonin Artaud | Interjections [Suppôts et Suppliciations]

  Wednesday 27 November 1946 at twenty-three hours in the evening beings that have not swallowed the nail, but have swallowed the point, and have held themselves between the hard and the soft, those one cannot disintricate because if one looks for them in the breath they take refuge in the body, and if one looks for them at one point on the body they claim to be braided there in breath, lightning gashing the body like a negation of body, having more body than all breath. They collect in the body, outside of the one who controls this body…

‘[A] poet must know more than | a surface suggests’: Reading and Secrecy in the Poetry of Anna Mendelssohn; by Vicky Sparrow

  There are moments when the reader of Anna Mendelssohn’s poetry feels themselves to be initiated into a secret poetic world within her work; and there are moments when such a reader is explicitly, sometimes uncomfortably, disabused of such a fantasy, debarred from such a space. The construction and reading of poetry always requires a negotiation of what is part-private and part-public, and in Mendelssohn’s work the crossing between these can feel peculiarly perilous. In Implacable Art (2000) Mendelssohn titles and addresses a poem ‘to any who want poems to give them answers’, cautioning her readers: ‘a poem is not…

Aimé Césaire; From “Notebook of a Return to the Native Land (1939)”

Translated by A. James Arnold and Clayton Eshleman 1 At the end of the small hours burgeoning with frail coves the hungry Antilles, the Antilles pitted with smallpox, the Antilles dynamited by alcohol, stranded in the mud of this bay, in the dust of this town sinisterly stranded. 2 At the end of the small hours, the extreme, deceptive desolate eschar on the wound of the waters; the martyrs who do not bear witness; the flowers of blood that fade and scatter in the empty wind like the cries of babbling parrots; an aged life mendaciously smiling, its lips opened…

Aimé Césaire; Discourse on Colonialism

Aimé Césaire; Discours on Colonialism (Full book)   A Poetics of Anticolonialism; by Robin D.G. Kelly Aimé Césaire’s Discourse on Colonialism might be best described as a declaration of war. I would almost call it a “third world manifesto,” but hesitate because it is primarily a polemic against the old order bereft of the kind of propositions and proposals that generally accompany manifestos. Yet, Discourse speaks in revolutionary cadences, capturing the spirit of its age just as Marx and Engels did 102 years earlier in their little manifesto. First published in 1950 as Discours sur le colonialisme1, it appeared just…

Amelia Rosselli | Poetry and Poetics

  Poetry and Poetics   Uncollected   Because I never did die, sepia and self with others was jocund smashed in equal pieces. I write obscure, blissful fog and without sun the sky, floured with wearinesses the monotonies of living by jolts acute and low. 11 March 1995     Note 1967-1968   1/1/67 Intent upon describing the landscape I intruded; gushed from it restless the primary scene: spinning tops, caverns, demystifying scenes. It’s a scene this one that keeps me from thinking while with a machine gun I elegantly mow you all down. What a corvée of madmen! What…

[[das Phantom Lautréamonts]]

                    »Da gab es keinen Zwang mehr. Wenn ich töten wollte, tötete ich; das passierte mir sogar oft, und niemand hinderte mich daran. Die menschlichen Gesetze verfolgten mich noch mit ihrer Rache, obwohl ich die Rasse, die ich so ruhig verlassen hatte, nicht angriff; aber mein Gewissen machte mir keinen Vorwurf…« Die Gesänge des Maldoror   ich hatte angenommen dass wir am 10. die Paläste der Hochfinanz & des Inneren auf den Kopf stellen / du weisst schon : die Rechnung für entlauste, desinfizierte Randbezirke / verarscht & geknüppelt wie wir…

Nanni Balestrini; »If you read this, you must no longer fear anything«

  • We Want Everything • Nanni Balestrini and the Poetry of the Italian Autonomia • Blackout • Carbonia (We Were All Communists) • On Nanni Balestrini, the Most Radically Poet of the Italian Scene     WE WANT EVERYTHING THE STRUGGLE These guys I’d talked to about the struggle couldn’t accept it, they didn’t know what the fuck to do. They didn’t understand what I was proposing. They felt somehow that what I was proposing was right, but they didn’t know how to act on it. They didn’t understand that the important thing was to stir things up all…

Anmerkungen zum Geschehen ((Totenklage))

                    Das griechischtragische Wort ist tödlich-faktisch, weil der Leib, den es ergreift, wirklich tötet. Hölderlin     Ohne Zweifel ist dies von allen widerlichen Momenten der widerlichste : es reicht nicht länger zu sagen : Ziel ist die Aufhebung des Kapitalistischen Realismus : oder Verse an die Tür einer Zelle zu hämmern wie man einen Nagel in eine Wand schlägt, wenn eine enthemmte Politkaste als Urheber täglich neuer Demütigungen, uns die verbliebenen Krumen vom Tischtuch eines inszenierten Abendmahls zuspielt / dass ich auf solch eine Vermessenheit reagieren muss wird dir klar…

molekulare revolution 1.1

                  molekulare revolution 1.1   1.1.1 das Herz ist seiner Zeit voraus aus der Bahn lebendigen Wirkens gerissen gibt es keine Sympathien zu verschenken die Wut kocht in deinen Händen Schwarze Unbekannte, gingen wir los! Los! los! Unheil! 1.1.2 während du die Hölle hinabsteigst steigt die Hölle zu dir hinauf Treppenhäuser aus Blut und Glut schwarze Waffen des Kapitals das Ausweiden fremder Kadaver und eine komplette Generation angeschissen 1.1.3 diese Zeilen sind nicht willkürlich vielmehr eine Art Gegen-Gebet keine Lust auf Kniefälle oder sich die Handgelenke aufzuschlitzen man fragt wie es weitergeht…

Kirill Medvedev and a New Russian Poetic Avantgarde

Poetry on the Front Line: Kirill Medvedev and a New Russian Poetic Avant-garde [i] by Marijeta Bozovic This article is part of a larger study examining the poetic and theoretical output of a constellation of contemporary St. Petersburg and Moscow poets orbiting around the journal Translit, the Kraft chapbook series, Free Marxist Press, and a number of poetry festivals in Russia. I look at neo-avant-garde poetic practices that link experimental form with progressive politics, finding continuity with the historical avant-gardes of the 1910s and 1920s, with unofficial poetry throughout the Soviet period, and with international language poetry. Tracing the recurrent pulse of…

Fredric Jameson; Rimbaud and the Spatial Text

I want to see if I can make a very schematic contribution to the problem of the preconditions, the conditions of possibility, of a particular realization of what we generally call modernism, namely the poetry of Arthur Rimbaud. The problem I want to focus on has to be initially distinguished from both the analysis of that poetry and its interpretation. But the question of the “objective” conditions of possibility of these texts must also be differentiated from the biographical approach, even from those sophisticated contemporary psycho-biographies which offer an expanded sense of the very complex determinations in the construction of…

Lorenzo Chiesa; Lacan with Artaud

    The multiple theoretical overlappings between Artaud and Lacan are marked by the silent eloquence of a bio-graphical half-saying. It is possible to locate only a single place in the entire corpus of Lacan’s writings, seminars and conferences in which he speaks directly of Artaud: in “Raison d’un échec”, Lacan threatens to “sedate” those of his followers who would be inclined to behave like him. Indeed, their sole actual encounter had been a clinical one: Doctor Lacan visited the inmate Artaud in 1938, shortly after his hospitalisation in Saint Anne. On that occasion he declared: “Artaud is obsessed, he…

Jean-Marie Gleize; An invitation to disorder: poetry, insurrection, and concrete utopia.

  On November 11, 2008, the French government stormed what they called an “anarcho-autonomist cell,” a group who had set up a store in the small village of Tarnac in central France. Accused of “criminal conspiracy to commit a terrorist act,” the members of this group were suspected of having sabotaged the catenaries of a high-speed train. Although most of those arrested were released fairly rapidly, Julien Coupat, the presumed leader of the cell, spent more than six months in jail without trial, under “preventative arrest.” What is particularly striking about this situation, and generally in line with the effects…

Jean-Marie Gleize; Le Livre des cabanes

  4. TROUVER ICI Lecommunismen’est         niunfantasme          niuneprojection utopique           c’est la possibilité    d’amplifier    l’expérience  d’une  joie   la possibilité d’intensifier la joie   il s’agit avant tout de la couleur des choses  de la couleur de l’air                                                    elle disait : L’air est rouge   la joie, la vie, cela, nu, intensifié, nu, vertical, physique, musical.   «Vers le bout du chemin…

Katerina Gogou / AUTOPSY REPORT

  AUTOPSY REPORT 2.11.75 …the body lay face-down in a parallel connecting to the Vatican. One of his hands full of blood gestured in open palm as insult to CPI and the other clutching his genitals to the culture specialists. Blood clotting on his hair as leeches on the veiled homosexual syndromes of all men of earth throughout the realm. His face disfigured by the framework of the class he denied a black and blue volunteer of the ragtag proletariat. The fingers of the left hand broken by social realism thrown away to floodlit trash. The jaw broken by the…

Alain Badiou; On Pier Paolo Pasolini

DESTRUCTION, NEGATION, SUBTRACTION The abstract contents of my lecture is a very simple one. I can summarize it in five points: All creations, all novelties, are in some sense the affirmative part of a negation. “Negation”, because if something happens as new, it cannot be reduced to the objectivity of the situation where it happens. So, it is certainly like a negative exception to the regular laws of this objectivity. But “affirmation”, affirmative part of the negation, because if a creation is reducible to a negation of the common laws of objectivity, it completely depends on them concerning its identity….

Democracy. Jean-Marie Gleize / Rimbaud / Kristin Ross

  Jean-Marie Gleize Democracy There is, in Rimbaud’s Illuminations, a text called “Democracy.” We know little of this text’s composition, as the manuscript is lost. It was published belatedly in a journal (La Vogue, 1889), but we are scarcely surprised to encounter a text of this title from the quill of that democrat Rimbaud, virulently hostile to Napoléon III’s dictatorship, radically aligned with the insurrectionary movement of the Paris Commune — with, one might say, an insurgent, revolutionary democracy. As Bernard Noël has suggested, Rimbaud is a communard “not only in his opinion, but in his being.” Now the particularity…

Miyó Vestrini | Poems

  XII (from NEXT WINTER) for Luis Camilo I get up I do not get up They hate me I tie my tubes I hit a motorcyclist with malice aforethought I surrender to the Oedipus complex I wander I carefully study the differences between dysrhythmia – psychosis – schizophrenia – neurosis – depression – syndrome – panic and I’m pissed left alone in the house when everyone is asleep I buy a magazine that costs six dollars they steal my best friend’s purse they grab me I push him I murder him I remember the umbrella of Amsterdam and the…

Galina Rymbu | Poems

UNTITLED I change at Trubnaya metro and see — fire I get off at the university and see — fire I go down the escalator at Chistye Prudy and see — fire when we fall at Begovaya, at Vykhino, we see — fire, fire, fire boys and girls their eyes filled with blood (to hell with ’68) students in hats with pompons walking silently next to me and suddenly they start to shout: “FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!” suffocating in dark leggings the universities flare up the textbooks of cowardly literature mixed with lusterless works flare up along with me only tonight we became younger and everyone wants to be…

Jean-Marie Gleize; ELEVEN NOVEMBER 2008 / ANARCHY / STATIC SHOTS / CAUGHT IN THE WATER / BEYOND VOICE

  2. ELEVEN NOVEMBER 2008 That night the wind was blowing above the ferns. The sky had fallen like a metal shutter. The scene was almost invisible and mute. One could hear footsteps. * … knocking over, bit by bit, all the obstacles … making each sentence into a fire stand     “the folly of an order” On eleven November at 5 a.m. the police cross Toy-Viam with dogs. The five access roads to the village of Tarnac are blocked. The village is sealed. A helicopter surveys the zone. 150 policemen 60 from the sdat (sous-direction de l’antiterrorisme) 50…

Sean Bonney | Our Death

  Our Death / Abject 2 (after Baudelaire) Great love, that will crush the human world, I wish we could do something to help each other. But today we are separated by so many tedious enemies. They smile at us all day long and ask us about our fever. What is there to say?  That “fever”,  in the way they pronounce it, isn’t much more than a weird reflection of their smile, which in itself is a symbol of their sense of rightness within the so-called world. But that we feel that the five characters that make up the word…

Anna Mendelssohn; What a Performance

    […]   __   Location:                  A Dark, Freezing Dungeon. England. Late 20th Century. Political Climate:  The Depression. Prisoner’s number:971226 ¹ flashbacks numerous.     assume dialogue except where obviously otherwise.   Go on write / I can’t write / You told me you could write / I could before I told you / I didn’t tell you I could, I told you I / I can’t say anymore, he’s armed with credentials and dangerous.² Why bring back torture? Because it is continuing / […] Never speak to another poet. Never breathe a…

Kirill Medvedev; On Literature & Libya is Serbia

ON LITERATURE [POEMS] Everyone knows that the Lit. Institute trains writers, but everyone also knows that the only ones who become writers are those who got thrown out of the Lit. Institute. Or, at the very least, were outsiders there. But there is one particular writer there, a kind of anti-hero, a small man of middling talent but insatiable will to power. He is dictatorial when he needs to be, and groveling when that is more appropriate. He is, when necessary, a patriot (and how many little insects are dining out these days on their newfound patriotism!). I left the…

Theater der Grausamkeiten [6.1 / 6.2]

              Ich hätte Blut durch den Nabel scheissen müssen, um zu erreichen, was ich will. Artaud   All das um zu sagen dass Tzara Artauds Stab berührte als berührte er seinen Schwanz wodurch er im Übrigen nur einen weiterer Schrein geistiger Masturbation errichtet, einen Schatten den man mit ein paar Nägeln im Kopf des Suchenden fixiert, dass Artaud während der neun Jahre die das Gesetz ihn festsetzt / einer Justiz die nur als letzter eitriger Ausfluss einer bourgeoisen Krätze auftritt / ihn bindet, 50 Elektroschocks aussetzt und ins hyperglykämische Coma spritzt, dass die Gesellschaft…

Jean-Marie Gleize | “Where do the dogs go?”

  ‘Où vont les chiens ? ’, ‘Where do the dogs go?’,1 this question is posed by Baudelaire in the last ‘prose’ poem (in Spleen de Paris) in order to evoke a kind of literature that would correspond with urban, modern life – a kind of poetry which is adapted to those ‘sinuous ravines’ of the cities where the ‘poor’ roaming dogs are, the famished dogs. This question is also relevant to poetry: ‘where does poetry go?’, ‘where do the poets go?’. This question has troubled me for far too many years, and this is the reason why I cannot separate my poetic…

Antonin Artaud | The Return of Artaud, The Mômo

  The anchored spirit, screwed into me by the psycho- lubricious thrust of the sky is the one who thinks every temptation, every desire, every inhibition. o dedi o dada orzoura o dou zoura a dada skizi o kaya o kaya pontoura o ponoura a pena poni It’s the penetral spider veil, the female onor fur of either or the sail, the anal plate of anayor. (You lift nothing from it, god, because it’s me. You never lifted anything of this order from me. I’m writing it here for the first time, I’m finding it for the first time.) Not…

Theater der Grausamkeiten [5]

                Artaud ist der Ernstfall. Er hat die Literatur der Polizei entrissen, das Theater der Medizin. Heiner Müller   als ich spät abends auf die Strasse trete wird mir schnell klar dass ein Körper der in die Nacht eintaucht Chaos hervorbringt / vor ein paar hell erleuchteten Displays erkenne ich schemenhaft in sich verkeilte Silhouetten / junge Paare verdrehen ihre Arme und während es zu regnen beginnt ((ein schwarzer Regen zum äussersten Glanz des Mondes)) tragen andere auf ihren Schultern ein Klavier über die Alpen / vollkommene Maße ((kinematische Bewegungen und Tendenzen)) einer…

Theater der Grausamkeiten [2]

            ich bin schwach, eine Schwäche / [scheißt auf mich] Kennen Sie etwas Maßloseres als die Ideologen der Tabula rasa, die Avantgardisten einer nachrevolutionären Doktrin / in einer Welt in der tatsächlich niemand jemals geboren wurde / in einer Zeit prokrastinierender Abstumpfung man muss also die Polizei ihre Arbeit machen lassen sagen sie (die mit Drogen vollgepumpt ist, mit Hass, tollwütig schäumend / in Wahrheit verstehen sie sich darauf dir mit einer Eisenstange die Wirbelsäule zu zerschlagen) – Pawlenski hat ohne Komplizen auf eigene Faust gehandelt und nicht gezögert die Banque de France in Brand…

Theater der Grausamkeiten [1]

            „Nieder mit den Romantikern!” (Blanqui) jedes Detail unserer Bewegungen kadriert und in Nahaufnahme beweist / die Luft ist rot / das Licht keine Halluzination es ist nicht schwer zu erkennen, dass die neuen Kriege auf Ablenkung aus sind – wirksame Methode; / die Aufrechten unter uns sind aber die Schlimmsten: ihre Prophezeiungen des Unglücks, all die Beschränktheiten des Reichtums und der Liebe / als hätte uns das nicht immer kalt gelassen / ein blödsinniger Tick, in etwa wie Armenspeisung Richter:        Ich werde nicht zulassen, dass Sie in diesem Ton fortfahren. Angeklagte:…

READING LIST [08/2017]

Atlantic Drift; An Anthology of Poetry and Poetics Francois Dosse; Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari Maurizio Lazzarato; Marcel Duchamp and The Refusal of Work Bertolt Brecht; Arbeitsjournal Étienne Balibar; The Philosophy Of Marx Pier Paolo Pasolini; The Selected Poetry Of Pier Paolo Pasolini Pier Paolo Pasolini; Unter freiem Himmel Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov Sean Bonney; Letter Against the Firmament MÜTZE # 16 URS ENGELER (Robert Kelly, Jerome Rothenberg, et al.) Georg Baselitz, Alexander Kluge; Weltverändernder Zorn Ellen Meiksins Wood; Das Imperium des Kapitals

COCYTUS

                Erinnere dich an die Lücke im äussersten Kreis des Kessels (dem aus Eis erzeugten von Luzifers Schwingen) wie wir hinausgelangten still und flink wie eine Maus und mittels einfacher metakognitiver Strategien die Regeln des Marktes begriffen / die Liebe des Geldes zum Konsumenten und wodurch Abhängigkeiten kollabieren, als sei asymptotisches Verhalten dazu bestimmt [was ein Leben durchglüht, / und erst allmählich lässt das Schmerzen der Lunge der Tränenfluss nach, nicht zu klären warum man zittert und warum nicht / wenn sie sagen: denke analytisch vertraue den gewählten Vertretern [dem Rasiermesser an deiner…

POSITIONEN [Hamburg im Juli]

                das Bild eines jungen Terroristen vor Augen, hypersensibel reizbar, der sich auf einen Stuhl setzt als besteige er ein Motorrad / man sagt Majakowski habe mit dem ganzen Körper all seinen Sinnen den in ihm abgelagerten Eindrücken geschrieben [von grausamer Lust gepackt nie in politikfreie Zonen ab- drängen lassen — vom Ende seines Lebens begriffen wie schief vieles von Anfang an gelaufen wie der Ring durch die Nase des Bären des Erdballs – nichts was man lange aushält aber hier im Zentrum des Handels kann nicht jeder Fluchtver- such gestoppt werden /…

LONDON 1873/2017 [3]

            du weisst nur zu gut wie gleichgültig mir Erfolg oder Ekstase ob ich oben oder unten liege meine Freunde noch eine Anstrengung wenn ihr Republikaner sein wollt / rasend vor Zorn raus auf die Strasse, loszuwerden was in mir kollabiert / jene gespenstische Aura bourgeoiser Wohltaten Notstandsgesetzte und Ausnahmezustände die so lange gelten bis die alte Ordnung wiederhergestellt oder eine neue durchgeknüppelt von der die Machthaber nicht zu träumen wagten, künstlich produzierte Polit-Biotope die ausserordentliche Massnahmen erforden / der Dichter wird zur Fahndung ausgeschrieben mein Freund die Kathedrale (so nenne ich ihn wegen seiner…

LONDON 1873/2017 [2]

            :das Gefühl es explodiert einem der Kopf, das Gefühl die Schädeldecke müsste eigentlich zerreissen, rasende Aggressivität für die es kein Ventil gibt du bist an der Stelle von niemand, du hast keinen festen Punkt, den Halt verloren den du nie hattest / deiner Abweichung einen Namen geben zu können scheint ihnen sehr wichtig, die Verhältnisse zu klassifizieren :: in einer Mischung aus Lässigkeit & Überzeugung schlugen sie wild aufeinander ein / was wirklich zählte war die seelische Verletzung, das Zerschlagen jeglicher Empfindung füreinander, etwas das man durch gewaltsames Zufügen von Wunden beschleunigte / das…

LONDON 1873/2017 [1]

                später wiederholten sie in Endlosschleifen in scheinbar beliebigen Stereotypen Kombinationen ihrer Rechtfertigungen der Feuersbrunst – es zerreisst uns – in einer Flut aus falschen Worten in der keine Zeit bleibt sie wieder abzuschütteln :die Stadt eine platte schwarze Wanze, so Verlaine, die letzten Zuckungen des realen Äusseren, schliesslich lief es darauf hinaus; :Andrieu musste ihn einsperren um von der Commune zu berichten / gleich in der Old Compton Street hat Vermersch – in absentia zum Tode verurteilt – seinen Vortrag über Blanqui gehalten / wir kennen also nun die City, Whitechapel, Poplar,…

PROTEST

  1. aus dem Inneren des silbern glänzenden Berges zwischen Charleville und Aden hört man schwach das schleppende Geräusch von Dampfmaschinen ein heiss-wässriger Dampf entfährt aus einer der Öffnungen des Tunnels der sich in kleinen flockigen Partien zu Wolken verdichtet die in der gleissenden Sonne materialisieren und sogleich wieder sich auflösen überall handelt man mit Bergkristallen oder seltsam anmutenden Stücken von Mineralien die man unten in der Stadt für einen weitaus höheren Preis wieder verkauft aber bei Schnee und zu Fuß den Pass zu überqueren ein solcher Vorsatz dass einem an Bart und Augenbrauen Eiskristalle richtige Zapfen anwachsen ist keine…

COLOSSAL YOUTH / JUVENTUDE EM MARCHA

  Stop the faking (Vanda Duarte) Fuck this mountain … I rembered what Mr Lubitsch said, that the day you find out how to shoot a mountain, you will shoot a man. Uh-oh. I will never shoot a mountain. (Pedro Costa)   Erst schwarz und dann weiß ein Messer wie eine Fackel im Dunklen woran sich das Licht entzündet dann wieder schwarz für einen Augenblick Spinnen unter der Decke Schatten unter Schatten unsichtbar wie der Wechsel von Hell Dunkel Chiaroscuro im Stile Rembrandts Texturen grau-grüner Schlieren Maserungen käferfarbener Mauerflecke einer heruntergekommenen Wohnung Phantasie und Begeisterung der Bewohner im Erkennen von…

Die identitären Idioten

            Neulich die identitären Idioten der nouvelles nouvelles droite: notre maitre à penser est Pasolini et à sa suite Gramsci. Rechter Gramscismus! (Wie lange hat Gramsci in faschistischen Kerkern gesessen?) Man bekommt eine Gänsehaut sieht man, wie sie sich scheibchenweise in Werken anderer bedienen. Alle, die nett gekleidet daherkommen und ihre Fahnen schwenken, deren Symbol ein Scheisshaufen ist (so Pasolini), anders ausgedrückt, alle die dich deinen Freund nennen und den Neigungswinkel ihres Daseins verkennen, alle die immer noch glauben, dass nur 1 bestimmtes Areal im Gehirn für bestimmte Funktionen verantwortlich ist, deren geistige Offenbarung sich in…

LA RABBIA //PASSION PASOLINI

  «Haltet ihn gut fest, auch wenn er in seiner glühenden Hast versucht sich loszumachen; er wird alle Formen annehmen, sich in alles verwandeln, was auf der Erde kriecht, in Wasser, in göttliches Feuer; aber ihr müsst ihn festhalten, ohne nachzulassen; packt ihn noch fester; und wenn er dann sprechen will, wird er wieder Züge annehmen, die ihr an ihm gesehen habt, als er eingeschlafen ist.» (Eidothea warnt Menelaos vor den Listen ihres Vaters Protheus, dem die Gabe der Prophetie nachgesagt wurde, sein Wissen jedoch mit niemanden zu teilen gedachte. Ein Meister der Verwandlung, entzog er sich den Fragen, indem er…