Monday, May 16, 2005

Antonin Artaud: "How hard it is, when everything encourages us to sleep..."

How hard it is, when everything encourages us to sleep, though we may look about us with conscious, clinging eyes, to wake and yet look about us as in a dream, with eyes that no longer know their function and whose gaze is turned in¬ward. (11)

Antonin Artaud--The Theater and Its Double (NY: Grove Press, 1958)

4 comments:

memsamechnun said...

Thanks Michael.
It was this forgotten piece that caught my eye in the link to the lodge. Spent some time there poking about.

Never got to Artaud in school.
It was Bauhaus' song that cued me in to Antonin.

- mason

Thivai Abhor said...

Which Bauhaus? All that is reverberating in my head is "Bel Lugosi is Dead" and "Telegram Sam"?

memsamechnun said...

Antonin Artaud

The young man held a gun to the head of God
Stick this holy cow
Put the audience in action
Let the slaughtered take a bow
The old man's words, white hot knives
Slicing through warm butter
The butter is the heart
The rancid peeling soul
Scratch pictures on asylum walls
Broken nails and matchsticks
Hypodermic hypodermic hypodermic
Red fix
One man's poison another man's meat
One man's agony another man's treat
Artaud lived with his neck paced firmly in the noose
Eyes black with pain,
Limbs in cramps contorted
The theatre and its double
The void and the aborted
THOSE INDIANS WANK ON HIS BONES
THOSE INDIANS WANK ON HIS BONES
THOSE INDIANS WANK ON HIS BONES

ah like coffee in the morning!

Thivai Abhor said...

Thanks Mason... I'll have to look for that one...