Every once in a while, I think about Antonin Artaud and his great essay, All Writing Is Pigshit.
I think I first read this essay 30 years ago. Mostly I remembered the name. Last week, thinking about writing for my blog, I thought about it again.
This time, unlike past times, I have the internet at my disposal: Google, Wikipedia, YouTube.
First I found it at http://endingthealphabet.org/019valentines.html and read it. Really beautiful!
“All those who have vantage points in their spirit, I mean, on some side or other of their heads and in a few strictly localized brain areas; all those who are masters of their language; all those for whom words hae a meaning; all those for whom there exist sublimities in the soul and currents of thought; all those who are the spirit of the times, and named these currents of thought – and I am thinking of their precise works, of that automatic griding that delivers their spirits to the winds – are pigs.”
Then, of course, Wikipedia, where I got some idea of who this insane poet was: “In November 1926, Artaud was expelled from the surrealist movement, in which he had participated briefly, for refusing to renounce theater as a bourgeois commercial art form, and for refusing to join the French Communist Party along with the other Surrealists.”
Then this fantastic reading: http://welcometopilot.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html.
And finally, this gem of contemporary Surrealism: To Read Antonin Artaud's "All Writing is Pigshit" at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oinqQ0C7GNc.
I love this about the internet: The depth of information and ideas, so readily available. So easy to access…What a great pigsty!
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