Rub Out the Words: The Letters of William S. Burroughs, 1959-1974

Rub Out the Words: The Letters of William S. Burroughs, 1959-1974

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by William S. Burroughs

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“Burroughs’s voice is hard, derisive, inventive, free, funny, serious, poetic, indelibly American.”
—Joan Didion

“Burroughs is the greatest satirical writer since Jonathan Swift.”
—Jack Kerouac

Carefully edited from more than 1000 of his personal correspondences, Rub Out the Words is a collection of 300 of

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“Burroughs’s voice is hard, derisive, inventive, free, funny, serious, poetic, indelibly American.”
—Joan Didion

“Burroughs is the greatest satirical writer since Jonathan Swift.”
—Jack Kerouac

Carefully edited from more than 1000 of his personal correspondences, Rub Out the Words is a collection of 300 of the best letters of Naked Lunch author William S. Burroughs, written between 1959 and 1974. A truly remarkable compendium, it offers an eye-opening and insightful look into the artistic process and complex personal life of the legendary literary outlaw in the post-Beat era—providing a new understanding and appreciation of an author who stood alongside Paul Bowles and Charles Bukowski as one of the most creative and rebellious American artists of the 20th century.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Playful, obscene, engrossing at times, these 300 letters by Burroughs, from 1959, when The Naked Lunch (before the definite article was dropped) was issued in Paris, to 1974 when he accepted a teaching position at the City College of New York, cast a light on the writer’s eventful life. Edited by beat expert Bill Morgan (The Typewriter Is Holy), this volume picks up where 1993’s The Letters of William Burroughs, vol. 1: 1945�1959 left off. Of special interest is Burroughs’s work with surrealist painter and cutup artist Brion Gysin and the influence that visual method had on the writings. Through Burroughs, we catch glimpses of writers and figures as diverse as Anatole France, Timothy Leary, L. Ron Hubbard, Truman Capote, Carlos Castaneda, Frank Herbert, and Mario Puzo. Burroughs was no Scout Master, but in these letters, he comes across as reasonable and quite tame. (Feb.)
Library Journal
In 1993, The Letters of William S. Burroughs, 1945�1959, edited by Oliver Harris, was published. Now we have the next volume, ably edited by Beat generation scholar Morgan (The Typewriter Is Holy: The Complete, Uncensored History of the Beat Generation). It contains over 300 subsequent letters written mostly to friends, family, and business associates between the publication of Naked Lunch and Burroughs's return to New York City to teach at City College. While old friends like Allen Ginsberg are among the recipients, more of the letters are addressed to newer companions whom Burroughs met while living abroad, including Brion Gysin, Paul Bowles, and Alex Trocchi. Many letters evidence Burroughs's obsessions with the cut-up method, Scientology, and the effectiveness of apomorphine as a cure for addiction; others reveal a caring father concerned about his son's well-being and financial security. Readers of these diverse letters will meet a writer intent on moving beyond his assigned role as a Beat icon. Morgan includes helpful explanatory notes, a chronology, and a list of sources identifying the repositories holding the letters. VERDICT Overall, the portrait of Burroughs that emerges from these pages is one of a professional writer striving to make a living without compromising his art. Highly recommended.—William Gargan, Brooklyn Coll. Lib., CUNY
Kirkus Reviews
A continuation of the selected letters of the unique writer in the same format as editor Olivia Harris' The Letters of William S. Burroughs 1945–1959 (1993). Beat Generation expert Morgan (The Typewriter Is Holy: The Complete, Uncensored History of the Beat Generation, 2010, etc.) has assembled a representative selection from the 1,000-plus letters that Burroughs (1914–1997) wrote during the 15 years the collection comprises. Most are to three correspondents: his son, Billy; his friends and colleagues Allen Ginsberg and Brion Gysin. Billy, we learn through the letters, had adolescent troubles with drugs (are we surprised?), including several arrests--but by the end of these letters he was married and having some publishing success as William Burroughs Jr. Ginsberg's role as principal confidante was soon assumed by Gysin, to whom Burroughs wrote most frankly about everything from gay porn to drugs and Timothy Leary (whom he grew to revile) to philosophies of composition to books he liked (Dune, The Godfather) or despised (In Cold Blood). Included is a vicious letter Burroughs wrote in 1970 to Truman Capote, accusing Capote of betraying, even killing, his talent. Many of the letters deal with the process first employed by Gysin and then adopted and championed by Burroughs--the "cut-up" process. For years Burroughs was enamored of this technique of snipping passages from publications and pasting them up in novel arrangements. He tried the technique with photographs, motion pictures and audio recordings as well--all discussed at length in the letters. Burroughs also followed some complex choreography with scientology and L. Ron Hubbard, whom he later accused of creating a "fascist cosmos." Perhaps most surprising: Burroughs' phenomenal work ethic and assiduousness. Each letter is a window that permits a fresh view of a most complex and revolutionary writer.

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HarperCollins Publishers
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6.00(w) x 9.10(h) x 1.80(d)

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Rub Out the Words

Letters of William Burroughs, 1959-1974
By William Burroughs and Bill Moran, Editor


Copyright © 2012 William Burroughs and Bill Moran, Editor
All right reserved.

ISBN: 9780061711428

Chapter One

EDITOR'S NOTE: By the fall of 1959 William Burroughs had settled
into a comfortable daily routine in Paris. He was living in a small room
on the Rue Git-Le-Coeur at the time. His pension was an inexpensive
place that would attract so many of his old friends before long that it
became known as the Beat Hotel. Only a few months earlier his second
book, The Naked Lunch, had been published by the Olympia Press,
under the direction of the somewhat devious owner, Maurice Girodias.
Burroughs was deeply involved in experiments with his new friend,
Brion Gysin, who, on October 1, had discovered a unique method of
literary composition. Quite by accident, Gysin had sliced through a pile of
old newspapers and noticed that the words from one page could be lined
up with the words from the page beneath to create entirely new texts.
When he told Burroughs about it later that day, William began to look
at the random pages carefully. He believed that Gysin had, by rearranging
the words at random, uncovered previously unseen messages hidden
within the words on the page.
WSB [Paris] to Allen Ginsberg [New York]
Oct 30, 1959
(9) Rue Git-Le-Coeur
Paris (6)

Dear Allen,

Thanks a million for the mescaline..(1) Split it with Brion [Gysin] (2)
for a short trip home..
Yes, you did make me the most famous novelist Roumanian
born of a better Tyrone Power (3) up from a headline of penniless
migrants.. And believe me, Al, I won't forget it. What's this
Elsee?? (4) On the ice again..?? I'll catch her this time..
(1) Ginsberg occasionally sent small amounts of mescaline as a gift to
Burroughs from New York.
(2) Bryon Gysin (1916–1986). An experimental artist who, over the course of
these letters, would become Burroughs' best friend and collaborator.
(3) Tyrone Power (1914–1958). A matinee idol known for playing the
roles of swashbuckling heroes. He had just died in November 1958.
(4) This is probably a reference to Allen's friend Elise Cowen,
who may have been planning a trip to Europe.
I look all over and can't find my Wyn contract (5) follow me around
for years through jungles and deserts and perilous unknown boy
countries and couldn't lose it and now.. Well don't get mad and cut
off your left hand, I always say.. But it seems to me that the contract
should be outlawed by now. I will look again for the contract
but some Arab probably wiped his ass with it years ago and it blew
away to return in hepatitis fall out.. But would I like to latch onto
that (2) Gs (6) go to India most like.. Gregory Corso lost all his money
in the Venice casino.. Oh God!! Quel infant of the Sunday Supplement.
Bought a dinner jacket, too I hear.. (7)
And now the question panel: (1) Whatever they may be, the
suppressors are not amateurs.. Old Old Old pros and don't ever
forget it.. Make you think you are winning when you are not, oldest
trick in the industry and still works.. Hannibal beat the Romans
with it.. Room for one more inside.. MALRAUX??? (8) He's nothing
but a public Latah (9) for Crisakes!?
(2): I have had very practical contact with "these people" they
are very practical people.. Jack Stern (10) was one of them.. The book
itself is not interesting all important teckniques [sic] classified.. But
name dropping is unchic and very poor hygiene..
Of course Scientology attracts all the creeps of the cosmos.. You
see it works..
In closing I will tell you a little story that happened to a friend
of mine calls himself Micheaux sometimes..
It seems that M. was hurrying home after swallowing his
mescaline tablet with hot tea in a cafe—too cheap to support a hot
plate you dig—and he met B [Burroughs] in the market and he
(5) A. A. Wyn (1898–1967). The publisher of Ace Books, the company
that published Burroughs' first book, Junkie. Burroughs hoped that he could
regain control of that book and sell the rights to other publishers.
(6) Girodias was negotiating a contract for $2,000 for the American rights
to Naked Lunch.
(7) The painter Willem de Kooning had given Corso some money for a trip to Greece, but
Gregory lost it all at the casino.
(8) André Malraux (1901–1976). French novelist and minister of cultural affairs.
(9) Latah. A person in a trance who talks mechanically or repeats motions
and is seemingly not in control of himself.
(10) Jack "Jacques" Stern was a young man, crippled by polio, who the
Beat group associated with in Paris. He claimed to be a member of the
Rothschild family, but Burroughs had doubts about this distinguished background.
He had met B before but never seen him as hardly anyone does see him
which is why he is known as El Hombre Invisible—So B. said "Ah
Monsieur M.. Sit down and have a coffee and watch the passing
parade.." and M shook him off saying: "No! No! I must go home
and see my visions" and he rushed home and closed the door and
bolted it and drew the curtains and turned out the lights and got into bed and
closed his eyes and therewas Mr. B. and Mr. M. said:
"What are you doing here in my vision?"
And B replied: "Oh I live here."
william burroughs
PS. Yes Burroughs will do as a name to publish under.. Its on the
papers.. I'll be caught short with it one day.


Excerpted from Rub Out the Words by William Burroughs and Bill Moran, Editor Copyright © 2012 by William Burroughs and Bill Moran, Editor. Excerpted by permission of Ecco. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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