From A Secret Location
“‘I can feel the heat closing in, feel them out there making their moves.’ So starts Naked Lunch, the touchstone novel by William S. Burroughs,” Peter Schjeldahl wrote in the New Yorker in 2014.
That hardboiled riff, spoken by a junkie on the run, introduces a mélange of “episodes, misfortunes, and adventures,” which, the author said, have “no real plot, no beginning, no end.”
It is worth recalling on the occasion of Call Me Burroughs (Twelve), a biography by Barry Miles, an English author of books on popular culture, including several on the Beats. “I can feel the heat” sounded a new, jolting note in American letters, like Allen Ginsberg’s “I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,” or, for that matter, like T. S. Eliot’s “April is the cruelest month.” (Ginsberg was a close friend; Eliot hailed from Burroughs’s home town of St. Louis and his poetry influenced Burroughs’s style.)
In Burroughs’s case, that note was the voice of an outlaw reveling in wickedness. It bragged of occult power: “I can feel,” rather than “I feel.” He always wrote in tones of spooky authority – a comic effect, given that most of his characters are, in addition to being gaudily depraved, more or less conspicuously insane.
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Posted on June 26, 2018