...a sneering grin
like rictus affixed to his bloodless face.
----- Original Message -----
From: "kasper salonen" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Saturday, December 13, 2008 2:08 PM
Subject: Re: Along the Rue Victor Masse
thanks a lot for that background, I'm now intrigued.
how is his name imbedded in the text? I must have missed it.
KS
2008/12/13 bj omanson <[log in to unmask]>
> Thanks very much, KS. The poem describes an actual historic figure from
> the
> fin-de-siècle, whose name is embedded in the text, Jehan Rictus. He sang
> his poems -- slangy descriptions of the Parisian poor -- on the streets in
> Montmarte, and was briefly popular as a kind of novelty. At his height, he
> performed at La Bosse in the Latin Quarter, and at Quat'z Arts and Chat
> Noir in Montmarte. His poems were sufficiently accomplished, and his
> knowledge of Parisian street argot sufficiently impressive, that he earned
> the praise of Mallarme. But he never escaped his own abject poverty, and
> lived much of his life on the streets. His personality was so prickly
> that
> he sooner or later alienated everyone with whom he had dealings, and
> earned
> the hostility of the cabaret owners. He died completely forgotten and
> still
> impoverished in the 1930s. A volume of his poems were eventually
> published,
> full of marvelous illustrations by Steinlen. See
> http://www.livre-rare-book.com/documents/31456/img1965.jpg
>
> bj
>
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "kasper salonen" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Friday, December 12, 2008 7:02 PM
> Subject: Re: Along the Rue Victor Masse
>
>
> very nicely done, I'm impressed by the nonchalant elegance of the form.
> good
> little story without being overtly 'narrative'. dug it visually too.
>
> KS
>
> 2008/12/12 bj omanson <[log in to unmask]>
>
> > Along the Rue Victor Masse
> >
> > In a crude argot of repellent slang
> > from the gutter, mixed with jargon unheard
> > since the days of Villon, he sang and slurred
> > discordant refrains to all who would listen,
> > dark, disquieting verses delivered
> > in a biting, vitriolic harange.
> > His cavernous eyes appeared to fasten
> > on nothing at all, and a sneering grin
> > like rictus affixed to his bloodless face.
> > He sang of the streets and the alleyways,
> > of nights under bridges along the Seine,
> > of cravings and sickness and scrounging francs
> > till I felt obliged to offer a coin---
> > he smirked and spat on the pavement for thanks.
> >
>
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