Wednesday, March 24, 2004

The Andalusian Dog

Bunuel has made a little shit of a film called
The Andalusian Dog, and the "Andalusian dog" is me.
Ferderico Garcia Lorca

Lorca sat silently as he
was being introduced. Neither man
in a hurry. One had the stage,
the other seemed not
to want it, busied himself
writing in a notebook
but drawing the audience
towards him by his actions
until they had only half an ear
on the speaker, both eyes on
the poet. The introduction finished
Lorca rose silently
closing the notebook
& leaving it on the chair. Waited
for the applause to soften
before he started. Whenever I
speak before a large group
I always think I must have
opened the wrong door.

Polite laughter. There was less
laughter, less polite, as he
continued. It is not my fault
if you cannot understand
what it is I am going to be
talking about, if you lack
the duende necessary to understand
my poems on the run
. He spoke of
stammering with the fire
that burnt inside him. That
from the stage. The words
from the chair were clearer,
a letter to his "Dear Family"
detailing the most recent adventures,
some real, some imagined, some
modified just enough to ensure
he came out from them
unscathed & appearing
in command. He recited the first
of the poems he was
including in his lecture, one
that described a childhood as a
solitary wanderer. His other self
sat behind him, bemoaning the lack
of servants, reviling the Jews, the
Armenians, recounting an
idealised & stereotypical vision
of Black Americans that went
no further south
than Harlem. Some of this
in the poems, but diffused,
more stylised, keeping well away
from the raw comment
of the letter left half-finished
on the chair. These
Protestants in New York
are ridiculous & odious
Lorca had written there,
serve only to reinforce his view
that there is only the one
true God & He is Spanish. My Spain
alone is pure; everywhere else
is full of faggots
. Wandering the stage
he was a gypsy. In the chair
he was nailing shut a door
he refused to open, afraid
he might find himself
sitting silently
in the audience on the other side.

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