"It takes, unhappily, no more than a desk and writing supplies to turn any room into a confessional. This may have nothing to do with acts we have committed, or the humours we do go in and out of. It may be only the room- a cube- having no persuasive power of its own. The room simply is. To occupy it, and find a metaphor there for memory, is our own fault...no apologia is any more than a romance- half a fiction...so we do sell our souls : paying them away to history in little installments. It isn't so much to pay for eyes clear enough to see past the fiction of continuity, the fiction of cause and effect, the fiction of a humanized History endowed with Reason." (Thomas Pynchon, V., p.224-226)
"Florence, April, 1899 . . . There is more behind and inside V. than any of us had suspected. Not who, but what: what is she . . . connected . . . with one of those grand conspiracies or foretastes of Armageddon..."
A long poem by Tony Harrison, set in the graveyard on Beeston Hill above Leeds where his parents lie. It reflects on the divisions between people, from football teams to Black/White, man v. wife and Left v. Right; and the way the unemployed youth of Leeds take out their frustrations by spray-painting obscenities upon the graves.
But why inscribe these graves with CUNT and SHIT? Why choose neglected tombstones to disfigure? This pitman's of last century daubed PAKI GIT, this grocer Broadbent's aerosolled with NIGGER? They're there to shock the living not arouse the dead from their deep peace to lend support for the causes skinhead spraycans could espouse. The dead would want their desecrators caught! Jobless though they are how can these kids, even though their team's lost one more game, believe that the 'Pakis', 'Niggers', even 'Yids' sprayed on the tombstone here should bear the blame? Why is it that these crude words are revealing? What is it that this aggro act implies? Giving the dead their xenophobic feeling or just a cri-de-coeur because man dies? So what's a cri-de-coeur, cunt? Can't you speak the language that yer mam spoke. Think of 'er! Can yer only get yer tongue round fucking Greek? Go and fuck yourself with cri-de-coeur! 'She didn't talk like you do for a start!' I shouted, turning where I thought the voice had been. She didn't understand yer fuckin 'art'! She thought yet fucking poetry obscene!
They're there to shock the living not arouse the dead from their deep peace to lend support for the causes skinhead spraycans could espouse. The dead would want their desecrators caught!
Jobless though they are how can these kids, even though their team's lost one more game, believe that the 'Pakis', 'Niggers', even 'Yids' sprayed on the tombstone here should bear the blame?
Why is it that these crude words are revealing? What is it that this aggro act implies? Giving the dead their xenophobic feeling or just a cri-de-coeur because man dies?
So what's a cri-de-coeur, cunt? Can't you speak the language that yer mam spoke. Think of 'er! Can yer only get yer tongue round fucking Greek? Go and fuck yourself with cri-de-coeur!
'She didn't talk like you do for a start!' I shouted, turning where I thought the voice had been. She didn't understand yer fuckin 'art'! She thought yet fucking poetry obscene!
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