These two scallywags (along with Ferlinghetti) were the mother's-milk of poets to my generation. They took us by the hand and, via twisted paths, led us to re-think both our language and how to use it.
Corso was no saint, and Ginsberg almost dangerous. I never met Corso, but did encounter Ginsberg briefly, back in London's mid-1960's (I think he was appearing at the Albert Hall). I remember politely asking him if there was anything I could get for him (meaning drink etc). He replied "What I'd really like, is a young boy". I ignored his request.
Friends be kept
Friends be gained
And even friends lost, be friends regained. Gregory Corso.
I still read poetry from the Beat/Howl era. With Kerouac and Burroughs it's probably the best writing of its time. I doubt if any of today's poets will have the same dramatic influence as they did.
Ginsberg stayed for a week in a friend's flat here in Bath, around 1970 - a bit of a liability, apparently. A sort of gay rabbi from hell...
ReplyDeleteBurroughs gave me the creeps - that undiminished obsession with hand-guns after he shot his wife.
I think AG simply liked to shock; unless of course he was a genuine screw-ball (know what I mean?).
ReplyDeleteMy boyfriend in high school insist everyone call him Irwin Allen and would spout rhetoric about the death of humanty. We broke up because he lacked variety and was in capable of growth but I'll admit to 'HOWL' being an epic poem.
ReplyDeleteWarm regards,
Simone