Quote:
Originally Posted by Psy-Fi
The first time I read 'The Lords and the New Creatures' by Jim Morrison, I was tripping on acid and I thought the book was brilliant psychedelic poetry. I re-read it later, after the LSD wore off, and I thought it was silly, self-indulgent twaddle.
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That's interesting, Psy-Fi: perhaps you had a wilder youth than I imagined.
Of course your confusion of judgement is what many of us go through: consumers, critics and artists themselves. In Brian Wilson's autobiog he details a cocaine-fuelled writing frenzy with Van **** Parks one weekend; after some all-nighters of drugs and inspiration, they had no ability to assess the worth of what they'd written.
I haven't read "The Lords and New Creatures", but just on that one page I posted, this bit seems very good to me:-
We are not constant
We are an arrow in flight
The sum of the angles of change
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And as for John Lennon, I should have praised his books more. They are not just brief, they are fun. JL is not trying to be an artist with some exhaulted, portentious message, he's just enjoying the English language, and is a worthy heir to a long tradition going back to Edward Lear and Lewis Carrol.
At one pre-internet time I used to regulary dip into his books to enjoy the likes of the following:-
Spoiler for Quotes from In His Own Write:
In His Own Write Quotes
“I'm a moldy moldy man
I'm moldy thru and thru
I'm a moldy moldy man
You would not think it true
I'm moldy til my eyeballs
I'm moldy til my toe
I will not dance I shyballs
I'm such a humble Joe.”
__________________________________________________ __________
“I sat belonely
I sat belonely down a tree,
humbled fat and small.
A little lady sing to me
I couldn't see at all.
I'm looking up and at the sky,
to find such wondrous voice.
Puzzly puzzle, wonder why,
I hear but have no choice.
'Speak up, come forth, you ravel me',
I potty menthol shout.
'I know you hiddy by this tree'.
But still she won't come out.
Such softly singing lulled me sleep,
an hour or two or so
I wakeny slow and took a peep
and still no lady show.
Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight,
A tiny little tiny pig,
that sing with all it's might.
'I thought you were a lady'.
I giggle, - well I may,
To my suprise the lady,
got up - and flew away.”
__________________________________________________ ___________________
“I was bored on the 9th of Octover 1940 when, I believe, the Nasties were still booming us led by Madolf Heatlump (who only had one). Anyway they didn't get me. I attended to varicous schools in Liddypol. And still didn't pass -- much to my Aunties supplies. As a member of the most publified Beatles my (P, G, and R's) records might seem funnier to some of you than this book, but as far as I'm conceived this correction of short writty is the most wonderfoul larf I've every ready.
God help and breed you all.”
― John Lennon, In His Own Write
And yes, Frownland, now you mention it, Hey Garland sounds much more like an extract from a story than a song.