st valentinus day

1985, broke, confused but fiercely healthy, I spent a week sleeping under a table in Camden Town. During that time I held a dialogue with the twin undead souls of Harold Bloom (as played by Mickey Rourke and Gerard Genette, who would later co-script Angel Heart). We discussed how, as Harold put it, romanticism is a vast revisionary tragedy. Harold was insistent that the ephebe must fall. I said I wasn’t so certain of that although I was perfectly willing to try the experience out. That conversation was to lead indirectly to my novel Vision Babies of Immiseration 1989. Oh but Harold and Harold and I, we were such spies in the House of Failure! We were essentially unmarked! When someone went past the window calling sadly, “Lawrence, Lawrence,” I spoke the words “the failure of Coventry” without being certain what I meant. It’s why, nearly thirty years down the line, I receive so many wonderful single star reviews. Oh, happy, happy valentines to us all!

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One response to “st valentinus day

  1. martm

    This was, of course, shortly before Bloom half-wrote “Series of Dreams” with Dylan. The rest of us did our best to leave the century, but found only – in Kabir’s phrase – an apartment in the city of the dead. The table from Camden Town featured briefly in the Paralympics, and the “Evening Standard” quoted a civil servant delayed at St. Pancras: “There’s no point getting annoyed, but it was annoying nonetheless.” Naturally, we’d all avoided the horsemeat.