Stay! Or don't...

For fresh fruit,
go to


Advice from a Joyce Fanatic to a Morrison Heretic

Roberto Bolaño, the man with no nationality, published his first book in 1984. It was a collaboration with a character called Antoni García Porta, and Google says the book was a novel. So far, all sounds well and extremely fishy, which is no surprise, considering who we're dealing with. Anyway, what we know, or might presume is possibly true, is the title of the book,

Consejos de un discípulo de Morrison
a un fanático de Joyce.

Feel free to use the Dada Button, the square in the upper right-hand corner of this page: it's like a magic potion that brings Tristan Tzara back to life. "Translate," it says, and does, from the mundane to the sublime in a split of a second.

Oh, Tristan, I missed you so today... it was something terrible. If only we had had a little chat about literature and the meaning of life and uptight little assholes with a  Napoleon complex and Joyce obsession to boot. You might have given me some hope.

It's time to face the music. Tristan is dead, but Google has managed to resurrect him, in spirit, at least, if not in flesh -- like a quivering hologram of Freddie Mercury or Michael Jackson, but way, way cheaper. For free, I believe, which I think is appropriate in the case of a crooked anarchist.

Hit the button now! Try, at least. You're gonna need it as this post regresses. Work in Regress, that's the title of my oeuvre.

Enough of me. Considering the title of Bolaño's first published book, I noticed one thing. It hints at a monologue, a one-way-street. The other party has taken an oath of silence, and kept it all these years... until today, when I received some feedback on my blog and posts on a site of Finnish dabblers in literature. And the writer is a Joyce fanatic, so much has been proven. The relation of yours truly to the Lizard King is somewhat more complicated.

I'm going to publish his private message here in its entirety, and in Finnish, so move your cursor close to the Dada Button. Here comes Nobody. Sue me, if it lightens up your Grimm cottage.

The Temple of Literature
as I like it.

Lahettaja: "Eeva"
Date: 2013-01-18 13:03:36
Aihe: Jouduin moderoimaan

Terve, CBGB

Kiitos nopeasta reagoinnista viestiini. En ole kuitenkaan varma, ymmärsitkö viestini oikein vai mitä tapahtui? Postauksesi Pyydän anteeksi... oli kirjallisuuden blogipäivitykseksi yhtä outo kuin edellinenkin. Tietenkin ongelma voi olla vastaanottajassakin.

Tämänaamuisen päivityksesi takia jouduin kuitenkin moderaattorin töihin. Olit nostanut toissailtaisen päivityksesi muokkaamalla julkaisupäivämäärää, samoin toisessa bloggauksessa. Tämä manipulointi on epäreilua kaikkia muita kirjoittajia kohtaan, ja rikkoo vertaisuuden periaatetta vastaan. Millä perusteella katsot, että sinun tekstisi ovat arvokkaampia kuin toisten? Miksi niitä pitäisi kohdella eri tavalla?

Siirsin postauksesi alkuperäisille julkaisupäiville. Hakkeroin myös ohjelmaa niin, ettei kirjoittaja pysty muuttamaan enää alkuperäistä julkaisupäivämäärää.

Jos sanon rehellisen mielipiteeni, niin ainakin tähän asti Kertomuksessa näkemissäni postaukesi ovat suurin piirtein roskapostin tasoa,  eivätkä ne ainakaan toimi positiivisena herättäjinä omaan blogiisi. Toivottavasti jatkossa seuraa parempaa.

[Editor's Note: If Dada has trouble with that paragraph, it's understandable - the author has let her anger affect her grammar. Which is fucked up.]

terveisin: "Eeva Joenpelto" [The name has been changed to protect the pseudonym the Lady is using. Joenpelto was a real writer, who published her work under her Christian name. - Ed.]


More mundane crap in Finnish here - but, alas, no Dada Button. WWI is yet to come.

If the link is dead, then Guthrie, I mean Eeva, is really, really angry with me. I'm banned from the site, probably. You do not make fun of her, or James Joyce for that matter, period. You do not make fun at all, when it comes to Lit-torture.

Ei kommentteja:

Lähetä kommentti