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| Arthur Rimbaud |
I don’t know whether the headline of my piece belongs to Jean Genet.
Leafing through my filed notes, I realized that the above headline had taken
its place among them as the 72nd note. It also came to my attention that I had
opened a parenthesis below the preceding one, namely the 71st note, and written
that it belonged to Genet, but had given no information on the origin of the
latter. Or, was it me who had formed this sentence? May I - on that day which I
cannot remember what date it was - have slipped it into my
notes folder not to have been stumbled by the obliviousness trip of the time,
and to fill in the blank below it someday? Possible, but it still carries the
odor of Genet, and resembles one of the inexhaustible sentences of this reckless man, this jail breaker.
Genet who left the world drawing a thick line beneath France is a prototype
of the 20th-century Western thought, a footnote of it, and an esthetic sewer
channel occasionally flowing up towards the earth. When he came out of the
prison walls to the arena with lots of novels in his arms, he had brought a new
dynamism into this literary genre: The Miracle of the Rose, The Sea, and The
Thief’s Journal … An underground literature.
Benim bu konudaki mottom şudur:
Şiir-kutsallık sorununa ilişkin, kendi şiiriniz bağlamında neler söylersiniz?
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