I encountered Howl when I was seventeen years old – back in the heady days of 1967. Back then I was a rebellious youth full of angst and disillusionment. I did not like the society I was part of. I did not want the career directions being laid out before me. I saw it all as shallow, hypocritical and pointless. I wanted something with more meaning but I did not know what it was. I wanted a life that had some depth and purpose. I rejected the whole stupidity of comfort, status and ‘fitting in’ to a society that I considered unfair, unjust and with the wrong priorities. I was on a quest to find something better.
Back then my life was all about Rock Music, friends and girls. I was into freewheelin’ and living in the moment. I wanted excitement and adventure. I wanted to live life to the full.
Poetry had been ruined for me at school. I had been made to learn and recite reams of Tennyson and Wordsworth. It did not relate to me at all. I could not connect.
I rediscovered poetry through the lyrics of the fabulous music I was listening too. Things like the Beatles – ‘Here There and Everywhere’ or the Kinks – ‘I’m Not Like Everybody Else’ and ‘Well Respected Man’ or Dylan – ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’, ‘Ramona’, ‘Pawn in the Game’ and ‘It’s Alright Ma, I’m only Bleeding’. They spoke to me. I was in to lyrics and words. I was on the cusp. Little did I know that I was shortly to be knocked out by the likes of Captain Beefheart, Country Joe and the Fish and Roy Harper. Rock Music provided my poetry and opened my mind to real social issues, mystical thought and philosophy. It gave me insight into the meaning I was seeking and a different way of living a life full of passion, love, tolerance and fairness.
Then I rediscovered poetry. I had been reading Kerouac’s ‘On the Road’, which transported me into a world that made much more sense to me. I wanted a life that was unleashed. On the cover of Kerouac’s ‘Dharma Bums’ was a photo of the mighty Allen Ginsberg. I found a copy of Ginsberg’s City Lights pocket book – ‘Howl’
The first moment I read those opening lines that Ginsberg had written way back in 1954 I was smitten. It spoke directly to me. I could relate to it. I interpreted it into my own life. I was being destroyed by the madness of my greed-ridden, war-mongering, wealth-obsessed society. I wanted out. I saw myself as that angel-headed hipster searching for that mystical connection to the universe. I was burning for it. I would rather be hungry and naked and real, rather that bloated and living in luxury in meaningless greed.
Suddenly I wasn’t alone anymore. There were other people who thought like me. I had discovered poetry.
These were the words that opened my mind:
‘I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection
to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,’
Words that Ginsberg so obviously cobbled together and stole from his mentor, major influence, occasional financial backer, letter correspondent and heavy duty critic for all the right reasons – William S. Burroughs.
And if you don’t believe me – read “The Letters Of William S. Burroughs 1945 to 1959”, first published in 1993.
I have that Burroughs book but I’ve never seen Howl in it? I like Burroughs a lot and I’m sure that all that bunch, grouped by others as the Beat poets and writers, tended to heavily influence each other. I don’t see how that negates the power of Allen’s poem though. Everyone is influenced by others, some more than others. Allen produced something that was original and had a big impact on me. I’m not surprised that he was heavily influenced by Burroughs. I’ll have another look at that book though.
You won’t see Howl in it per say, as it’s Burroughs’ letters, many of which are to/from Ginsberg. Had you read the book you’d know all this already.
Please don’t tell me that you think phrases such as “starving hysterical naked”, “negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix”, “angel-headed hipsters” are not from the mouth of Burroughs.
The only reasons Ginsberg got anywhere was because Burroughs was living for the most part in either Mexico or Tangiers and completely off the radar whilst indulging in the hard stuff and Burroughs’ personal written recommendation to some off-mainstream publishing houses.
Ginsberg was his monkey.
As I said Andrew – I read it and did not see those phrases in there. Perhaps he did nick them from Burroughs and I just did not notice. It’s immaterial really though isn’t it? The poem worked and was extremely powerful. Everyone steals words, phrases and chords. It’s what you do with them that’s important. I love Howl. It means a lot to me. It had a big impact on me when I was seventeen.
It’s to those individuals who open our minds to the beauty of words in no matter what form, we owe thanks.
Too true Anna. The love of words, beauty and seeking of truth is a great attribute of our poets and writers.
You misunderstand me. You won’t see Howl in it, or any of the phrases (for goodness sake!) but you will see Ginsberg making mention of his enclosure of writings within his letters and Burroughs taking the piss out of Ginsberg within his letters and coaxing him into trying to write something a bit more original – and many times he repeats himself here during the course of many years of their letters to each other. On every occasion that Ginsberg wrote anything, he sent copy to Burroughs, regardless of his whereabouts (as previously mentioned, plus Peru, Columbia,Paris) for his feedback commentary. Ginsberg very much sought after Burroughs’ “OK”.
I really can’t believe you read this book, given your above comments. Not a bit of it, actually!
But yes it does matter. They are Burroughs’ words with Ginsberg’s name on it, with him getting all the plaudits and keeping stuum. Had Burroughs been of a mind he could have sued Ginsberg, but considering his hatred for all things authoritarian, lucky for AG.
And here you are 50 years later still thinking this! I think that in itself proves my point.
Surely you still don’t think the same as you did when you were 17?
Lost of things impressed me at 17, too, but I doubt very much if I’d give them a 2nd glance today.
Particularly when I know better and understand the truth of the matter.
As David Briggs upon his deathbed said to Neil Young – “always go for the source.”
Wise words indeed.
Andrew, I can’t comment on the above. Just wanted to say hope you are doing well. Keep in touch. Good weekend.
Hi Anna. No worries, you’d need to have read Burroughs letters book anyway. You know, the very book that Opher’s fobbing me off with fibs of having read it. Like I was born yesterday!
Andrew – I was reading Burroughs when you were in nappies.
I know they were all in contact but I did not read quite the same interpretation as you. I still greatly value Howl. It, along with a couple of other Ginsberg poems, is still one of my favourites.
I have changed a lot since I was seventeen but I still like a lot of the things that impressed me back then.
Btw, Burroughs’ album that he recorded in `83 finally gets its release soon. I think it’s titled “I Need To Hang You”.
Don’t take that personally!
I’ll look forward to that. Is it meant to be like Spare-Arse Annie?
Ive no idea other than what was described (that being the backing band is very good) by Spin.com – a good music shop in Newcastle that carries a lot of off-mainstream stuff that I like. I’ve pre-ordered it and will let you know in due course.
Look forward to that. I think I’ve got everything he’s done so I’ll no doubt get that when it emerges.
His books no doubt, but not his letters! They weren’t published till `93. I’d be 34, no nappies!
Andrew – I will try and get that book, I know that Matt writes a lot about Burrough’s, do you know Matt’s site – he is so good. You take care and have a good weekend. Is it raining up there, I had the day in Frinton-on-Sea yesterday, had my hair done/had lunch/walked down to the Beach. The Sun was glorious, yet when I came home my Sons said it had rained here for half an hour, we are about 12/15 miles apart. Frinton they lock the gates at night to keep the riff raff out, well they used to until there was a battle so to speak and the gates were removed. Jonathan used to work there in the Pharmacy of Boots, disliked the majority of the people they would talk to him as though they were back in the days of “tip your cap”. Rained today. Love reading what you say.
Matt? No I don’t think I’ve any idea of him.
Burroughs is one of favourites and certainly not an everyman’s writer. He way too crazy off the wall for that.
He’s got a knack of raiding the deepest, most perverse inner most thoughts of man’s (or woman’s) psyche. His stuff can either be taken as utterly shockingly vile and depraved or perhaps very humerous. He hits both marks for me.
I have every one of his books and read them all several times over. Except the one titled “Naked Lunch”, that completely does my head in so I’ve only read that twice and I can’t ever see a third shot.
I really wouldn’t recommend his works to you Anna. But if you do, start with something easy-ish, like “The Ticket That Exploded”. Put it this way, you won’t find much love in his stuff. Not any at all!
He inhabits a dreadful. hateful and deathly world.
But don’t shoot the messenger. I told you so!
That’s spot on Anna. He’s not easy. His personal life was as scary as his books. He shot his wife dead playing William Tell.
Oh yes, the “accident” as Burroughs conveniently liked to refer to it as. Some boy, that Bill was.
I’ve read a lot of conjecture about that ‘accident’. The wonder is that he managed to extricate himself.
If memory serves and I may be wrong, but I think they were living in Mexico at the time. So, for the right money anything goes.
It was Mexico and it was money talking. Incredible really.