Oct 13 2009
This book is a lot of fun. Two stories, “Have You Been to Electric Ladyland” and, “It is an Ancient Mariner” I was particularly fond of. Both of them are long character monologues that would be just as entertaining on stage as they are on the page. Here’s some of “It is an Ancient Mariner.” In it, a middle-aged, Texas bar patron is telling a story to a man named Nussbaum, who he just met. “But Alice —— with Alice, it’s smooth and sweet and free. Because she’s a woman, Nussbaum, y’understand. Wrapping you up and holding you with her love, but giving herself, sharing, sharing cries of joy, Nussbaum, that are almost unbelievable, like in a church pew, a goddamn pew, Nussbaum, or when you gaze upon some scenic beauty so goddamn fresh and high it is almost beyond your power to take it in. Your heart can’t take any more, it must give forth, it must share its joy with her, so that her heart will pound with the same joy, the joy she draws from your pounding heart. It is that kind of deep, deep giving and loving and sucking and fucking and fucking and sucking and sucking and fucking. And afterwards, not that damn businesslike “Huh!” Afterwards - weeping. And Sweetness. Bittersweetness, Nussbaum. Dripping, weeping sighs. I am not a weeping man, Nussbaum. But the world weeps. You lie there and the world is a great weeping bayou, and Alice and you are on this bed which is now a pirogue floating off into the twilight as a distant bird cries—- A boat, Nussbaum. A pirogue is a kind of boat. No, it’s not clammy. I’m not talking about the goddamn sheets being wet. The dripping is not a literal thing. It’s a feeling. Jesus Christ, you got a goddamn narrow little mind there, Nussbaum, I don’t care how many drinks you buy. I’m talking about people’s souls, and you’re talking about jiz dripping on the sheets. Grow up, man. Show a little maturity. Jesus Christ.”

This book is a lot of fun. Two stories, “Have You Been to Electric Ladyland” and, “It is an Ancient Mariner” I was particularly fond of. Both of them are long character monologues that would be just as entertaining on stage as they are on the page. Here’s some of “It is an Ancient Mariner.” In it, a middle-aged, Texas bar patron is telling a story to a man named Nussbaum, who he just met.

“But Alice —— with Alice, it’s smooth and sweet and free. Because she’s a woman, Nussbaum, y’understand. Wrapping you up and holding you with her love, but giving herself, sharing, sharing cries of joy, Nussbaum, that are almost unbelievable, like in a church pew, a goddamn pew, Nussbaum, or when you gaze upon some scenic beauty so goddamn fresh and high it is almost beyond your power to take it in. Your heart can’t take any more, it must give forth, it must share its joy with her, so that her heart will pound with the same joy, the joy she draws from your pounding heart. It is that kind of deep, deep giving and loving and sucking and fucking and fucking and sucking and sucking and fucking. And afterwards, not that damn businesslike “Huh!” Afterwards - weeping.

And Sweetness. Bittersweetness, Nussbaum. Dripping, weeping sighs. I am not a weeping man, Nussbaum. But the world weeps. You lie there and the world is a great weeping bayou, and Alice and you are on this bed which is now a pirogue floating off into the twilight as a distant bird cries—-

A boat, Nussbaum. A pirogue is a kind of boat.

No, it’s not clammy. I’m not talking about the goddamn sheets being wet. The dripping is not a literal thing. It’s a feeling. Jesus Christ, you got a goddamn narrow little mind there, Nussbaum, I don’t care how many drinks you buy. I’m talking about people’s souls, and you’re talking about jiz dripping on the sheets. Grow up, man. Show a little maturity. Jesus Christ.”