PUT THE BOOK BACK ON THE SHELF: BOHEMIANS, BEATNIKS AND AN ED BANGER

Time to rest the ears and treat the eyes.

If I were in the process of writing my first novel I’d put my quill and ink back in the desk drawer, close the lid slowly, put the kettle on, and think of another way to make my mark after reading The Panopticon by Jenni Fagan. I’d already read Jenni’s poetry in Blackheath publications The Dead Queen of Bohemia and Urchin Belle so knew what to expect theme wise but the writing in The Panopticon is truly exceptional: economical, sharp and knowing.

Anais Hendricks is 15, her adoptive prostitute mum has been murdered, and has been sent into care at the Panopticon - ”a circular prison with cells so constructed the prisoners can be observed at all times” - after being accused of her latest misdemeanour (namely landing a policewoman in coma). Given time to dig beneath all the violence, drugs, sex, and teenage bolshiness – both administered and received – Anais is revealed as a savvy, intelligent young woman with dreams of living a quiet bohemian Parisian lifestyle. The story of her and her fellow “prisoners” is, to put it mildly, tough going (I can’t begin recount the list of horrors) but is dealt with even-handedly and compassionately. It’s a book that should be read by precisely the people who won’t touch it and who’d dismiss the likes of Anais. I, naturally, was rooting for her.     

Like young Hendricks, American writer Richard Brautigan also aggravated law enforcement agencies when he chucked a brick through a police station window back in ‘55. Although done with the intention of being arrested so he’d be fed, Brautigan got more than he bargained for when subsequently sent for twelve sessions of electroshock treatment. Jarvis Cocker presented a 30 minute documentary last week on Radio 4, Messy, Isn’t It? Brautigan shot himself in the head in 1984 and was not discovered until weeks later. Such a grisly death was at odds with the bright playful nature of his most famous work and it was great to hear admirers Holly and David from The Lovely Eggs sing his praises on the wireless. They’ll be pleased to see their man on the cover of the latest issue of Beat Scene magazine which includes an interview with William Hjortsberg, author of Jubilee Hitchhiker: The Life and Times of Richard Brautigan, a new book Beat Scene call “a monumental study, intense in detail, history leaping off the page.”

Brautigan always resented being referred to as a hippy writer after his success with Trout Fishing In America in 1967 and also fumed when A Confederate General From Big Sur linked him to the Beats. My favourite part of Beat Scene is the new book reviews which this issue includes Ring Of Bone by Lew Welch. Welch was inextricably linked to the San Franciscan branch of the Beat Generation through his association with poets Gary Synder and Philip Whalen and for Jack Kerouac’s portrayal of him as his hard-drinking buddy Dave Wain in my favourite Kerouac novel, Big Sur. Ring of Bone is a newly expanded edition that collects poems, songs and drawings and a new foreword by Synder. Welch was staying with Synder in 1971 when he took a revolver into a forest and was never seen again. It’s good to have Welch back in print and be able to add some flesh to the bones, so to speak.

One MonkeyPicks reader wrote my Beat posts were the equivalent of finding only toffees left in a tin of Quality Street – he’d eat them but only if there was no other choice. With that, and the misery above in mind, perhaps a new biography about The Smiths will cheer everyone up. They are still all alive after all. A Light That Never Goes Out: The Enduring Saga of The Smiths by Tony Fletcher is an exhaustive account of the band stretching the best part of 700 pages.  Such is the detail that it’s not until nearly page 200 that Marr knocks on Morrissey’s door looking for a lyricist. Within days they’d completed the classics “Suffer Little Children” and “The Hand That Rocks The Cradle”, which is the point I’m up to at the moment. Fletcher’s Keith Moon book Dear Boy showed what a thorough biographer he is and he’s superb here painting Manchester during the punk and post-punk era. I still find it incredible Morrissey joined Ed Banger and the Nosebleeds in 1978, a year after their “I Ain’t Been To No Music School” single. Morrissey and Marr were the song-writing perfect team, it’s almost impossible to find an unwanted Smiths track. Like dipping in the Quality Street tin and pulling out a caramel swirl every time.

The Panopticon by Jenni Fagan and A Light That Never Goes Out by Tony Fletcher are published by William Heinemann Ltd.

Ring of Bone by Lew Welch is published by City Lights.

Beat Scene is available here.

THE DEAD QUEEN OF BOHEMIA by JENNI FAGAN

An ex-girlfriend had a tatty book that gathered dust in my old flat. It was called How Poetry Works. I flicked through it a few times but it could’ve been a computer manual from the 1980s for all the sense it made to me. I don’t know how poetry works. I don’t know how computers work either. I couldn’t care less; as long as they do. Music’s the same. Ray Davies on Arena the other week got all tetchy about documentary makers wanting to over-analyze artists when people “either like the song or they don’t”.

I like Jenni Fagan’s poems. They live at the dark end of the street, across the tracks, on the outskirts of town in a world inhabited by junkies, winos, weirdoes and whores. And they’re only the harmless ones. Fagan doesn’t romanticize them but is empowered by her own experiences and wears them proudly like a rusting pin badge rescued from the rain. Out of the human wreckage come phrases like “…the schizophrenic knew fifteen different ways to bring Satan through a crack in the wall like a great vagina of doom” that instantly leave their words stamped in the brain. But there are two sides of every coin and on the flip of Jenni’s feisty confrontations are glimpses of vulnerability and tenderness.

They work for me. They should work for you too.

The Dead Queen of Bohemia by Jenni Fagan is published by Blackheath Books, priced £7.50.

Blackheath Books Website.

THE BEAT ANTHOLOGY 2006-2009

Whenever I hear “Can I get a skinny latte?” I summon all my powers of restraint to prevent myself pummeling the head of said speaker against the counter time and time and time again. Fortunately it doesn’t happen often as I’d sooner drink my piss from an old tin cup than enter a coffee shop but it niggles away at the back of my brain with frightening regularity. So, not for the first time, I let out a little cheer and raised a fist in solidarity when Joseph Ridgwell writes “I hated coffee drinkers nearly as much as I was beginning to hate Juliette’s constant criticisms, walking around with their stupid paper cups like toddlers with comfort blankets”. Ahem, brother.

Ridgwell’s typically bolshy “Jim Morrison’s Grave” is one of ten short pieces and three interviews originally published on The Beat website and now collected in the latest book from Blackheath Press. Many of the writers I’ve championed in the past and they again come up with the goods. I like Melissa Mann’s detail in “Beetroot”, the muggy air and detachment in Jenni Fagan’s “The Acid Burn No Face Man” and the flouncing gracefulness in Andrew Gallix’s “Sweet Fanny Adams”. They all have strong individual voices expressed in completely different (and entertaining) ways.

Others skillfully scribing a few pages: Lee Rourke, Susan Tomaselli, Ben Myers, Steve Finbow, Chris Killen, Sean McGahey, Darran Anderson, and U.V. Ray.

The Beat Anthology 2006-2009 Edited by Sean McGahey is published by Blackheath Books, priced £7.50 (or limited edition with spoken word CD £10).

www.blackheathbooks.org.uk
www.the-beat.co.uk

BILLY CHILDISH - PENGUIN BOOK BURNING

The movers and shakers from the underground writing scene were out in force on Thursday for Billy Childish’s reading and book burning (see last Sunday’s post). Was good to meet the likes of Joseph Ridgwell, Jenni Fagan and Vic Templar, and reassuring they all appeared to have wandered straight from the pages of their books.

Billy was in charismatically jovial mood, wondering between poems what 19 year old Paul Weller would think of a 52 year old Paul Weller, what 19 year old Billy Childish would think of Billy Childish now, whether Charles Bukowski was a softie for moaning about working at the post office, and tales of fake moustaches and being the only punk in shorts.

Micheal from L-13 had chosen the pieces from Selected Poems for Billy to read, which meant a few different ones to those Billy usually picks. I’d had a few beers but I think he read: your golden hair, a sad donky and a fat man smiling, where the tiger prowls stripped and unseen, monkys in space, only poets piss in sinks, a mad noise like birds, fat nature, the snow, the bitter cup, hear i stand, the billy childish.

Then came the burning. L-13 did a fantastic job in making Selected Poems look totally like an authentic Penguin classic (managed to rescue one) so was sad to see them wasted. Penguin should have been proud to be associated with Billy’s work. But then, where’s the fun in that?

URCHIN BELLE by JENNI FAGAN

Blackheath Books’ reputation as discerning independent publishers climbs another notch with a bruising first collection of poems by Jenni Fagan.

The back cover is proudly stamped with words from the Chairman of Edinburgh & Midlothian Young Offenders Report 1993: “Miss Fagan is a considerable danger, both to herself and to all of society.” In a Bart Simpson way, I’m thinking “cool”; except it’s not cool. Fagan’s accounts of abuse, violence and prostitution in childhood are far too real and unsettling to get off on some vicarious kick.

You can feel the danger throughout Urchin Belle as the fizzing tension and pressure builds like a can of Tennent’s booted down the stairs, ready to explode. It’s not all doom and gloom though; there are moments of snatched tenderness and the end poem about nicking lights from police cars provides a defiant, funny, and triumphant two-fingered finale.

Urchin Belle is published as a strictly limited edition (numbered and signed) by Blackheath Books priced £5.

www.blackheathbooks.org.uk