Michael McClure (1) (1932–2020)
Autor(a) de Scratching the Beat Surface: Essays on New Vision from Blake to Kerouac
Para outros autores com o nome Michael McClure, ver a página de desambiguação.
About the Author
A native Midwesterner born in 1932, Michael McClure is associated with the San Francisco renaissance of the mid 1950's, and his work, in the tradition of Blake and Artaud, is prophetic in tone and usually quite experimental on the printed page. His plays, "The Beard" (1965) and "The Tooth of Crime" mostrar mais are underground theater classics. He is part of the poet's theater movement that was revived in San Francisco in the 1980's. His more recent work includes Persian Pony, and Mephisto and Other Poems. His other books include Rain Mirror; Simple Eyes & Other Poems; Rebel Lions; Ghost Tantras; Of Indigo and Saffron: New and Selected Poems; Passage; and the nonfiction work, Scratching the Surface of the Beats. He was a professor of poetry at California College of the Arts, a position he held for 43 years. He was given an honorary doctorate degree as the longest-tenured faculty member at the art college. After a career of more than 60 years, Michael McClure died at the age of 87, on May 4, 2020. (Bowker Author Biography) mostrar menos
Image credit: empty mirror books
Obras por Michael McClure
Lighting the Corners: On Nature, Art, & the Visionary : Essays & Interviews (American Poetry Series) (1993) 17 exemplares
For Artaud 2 exemplares
Bob Dylan The Poet's Poet 2 exemplares
[Mandales] 2 exemplares
The blossom : or, Billy the Kid : a play 1 exemplar
Unto Caesar 1 exemplar
Isamu Noguchi 1 exemplar
Thirteen Mad Sonnets 1 exemplar
From The New Book/A Book of Torture 1 exemplar
Dream Table 1 exemplar
Madame Secretary 1 exemplar
Trip: for Joanna 1 exemplar
Liberation 1 exemplar
Transfiguration 1 exemplar
The Stitching 1 exemplar
GRAHHR 1 exemplar
Fifteen Ideas 1 exemplar
The Cherub 1 exemplar
Isamu Noguchi at Gemini 1982-1983 1 exemplar
Associated Works
The Rolling Stone Book of the Beats: The Beat Generation and American Culture (1999) — Contribuidor — 167 exemplares
Stan Brakhage: Correspondences (Chicago Review, 47:4 and 48:1) — Contribuidor — 8 exemplares
Peace or perish : a crisis anthology — Contribuidor — 4 exemplares
West Coast Plays 2: Outstanding New Plays from the Coast (And; Goethe: Eine Fragment; The Last of the Marx Brothers'… (1978) 2 exemplares
ACTS 6, A Book of Correspondences for Jack Spicer — Contribuidor — 2 exemplares
Recollection: Best of Concrete Blonde — Songwriter — 2 exemplares
Origin, Second Series, No. 6, July 1962 — Contribuidor — 1 exemplar
San Francisco poets [sound recording] — Contribuidor — 1 exemplar
Etiquetado
Conhecimento Comum
- Nome legal
- McClure, Michael Thomas
- Data de nascimento
- 1932-10-20
- Data de falecimento
- 2020-05-04
- Sexo
- male
- Nacionalidade
- USA
- Local de nascimento
- Marysville, Kansas, USA
- Local de falecimento
- Oakland, California, USA
- Causa da morte
- stroke
- Locais de residência
- San Francisco, California, USA
- Ocupações
- poet
novelist
documentary filmmaker
journalist
songwriter - Organizações
- Rat Bastard Protective Association
Membros
Críticas
Mephistos and Other Poems por Michael McClure
An important and influential collection of poems by one of the original Beats. Strongly recommended!
I was initially drawn to The Adept by its psychedelic book cover. Even after a friend pointed out that each "e" in the title on the dust jacket looked like a Pac-Man — albeit striped Pac-Mans — I didn't care. I didn't care even though I was strictly a Galaga kid when Pac-Man was all the rage. I had to have it, that cover called to me; I was transfixed by its meditative, out of body experience, in its cover art and design. Thankfully, Lorne Bair Rare Books, self-described "specialists in the history, art and literature of American social movements" (Woodstock's generation, for instance) was there for me when I was jonesing hard for it and needed this amazing fix fast.
The Adept was Michael McClure's second novel, published by Delacorte Press forty-five years ago, and so far, it has been his last. After safariing deep underneath its alluring surface cover, I polished the novel off last night.
Sure wish McClure had written another novel (or would write one more soon). Pure pleasure finding myself unself-consciously submerged by the reading, swirling deep into the vortex of Michael McClure's immense imagination — a subversive, unpredictable, and visionary realm at once spiritual and corporeal. Michael McClure has long been an Artist well attuned to whatever it is out there that stalks and breathes beyond our senses, and in The Adept he takes us there.
The Adept is "anti-narrated," you could say, anti-narrated by an expert antihero; by a metafictional-minded ("Listen, my Dear Reader, my Fine Punk Asshole, my Lovely Hypocrite, and you shall hear what it is to be a full-grown adult male animal with hair down to the ass and a fine set of muscles"), cocaine addled mystic, this drug dealing New Yorker, Nicholas, with his kooky predilection for impromptu longueurs galore on things like leonine symbolism one second or Botticelli's illustrations for The Inferno the next. The novel compels its "Dear Reader ... Lovely Hypocrites" along with Nicholas' digressive commentary (is it maybe Michael McClure's astute social commentary disguised?) because, yes, it blends like this linguistic smoothie out of erudite esoterica and streetwise jive. The Adept is serious funny brains. McClure's colloquial commingling of down and dirty earthiness and high art prefigured David Foster Wallace's own super-smarts-meets-low-arts sensibility of style.
Nicholas' worldview counters the counterculture of his time. In 1971, when we meet him — we "Fine Punk Assholes" — whatever happy hippie idealism he may have once had has long escaped this enigmatic cynic for good—
"I despise the radical and social Left which would poison me and put me in a prison of Society—leaving me no pleasures but those of happy work, and marriage, and perhaps finally automation so that there would be nothing for me to do but watch state-owned television and pursue crafts and cultural events until the utopia breaks up in sheer boredom of existence."
I said I was enamored by the The Adept's cover at the outset. I'll say now I was mind blown by the book, and leave it at that, except for this beautiful bit of prose—
"A rose is not only beautiful when new but it is also beautiful when wilted. The Japanese know this. There is more thought in a wilted rose than in a new rose. The new rose, lucent flower meat, gleams and gives off light like a psychedelic drug being whirled in a centrifuge in a dark room. No, not like that. The new rose is new flesh. It stares back at you. It is shocked to be removed from the garden, but newborn to be unitary, disparate, and free.… (mais)
The Adept was Michael McClure's second novel, published by Delacorte Press forty-five years ago, and so far, it has been his last. After safariing deep underneath its alluring surface cover, I polished the novel off last night.
Sure wish McClure had written another novel (or would write one more soon). Pure pleasure finding myself unself-consciously submerged by the reading, swirling deep into the vortex of Michael McClure's immense imagination — a subversive, unpredictable, and visionary realm at once spiritual and corporeal. Michael McClure has long been an Artist well attuned to whatever it is out there that stalks and breathes beyond our senses, and in The Adept he takes us there.
The Adept is "anti-narrated," you could say, anti-narrated by an expert antihero; by a metafictional-minded ("Listen, my Dear Reader, my Fine Punk Asshole, my Lovely Hypocrite, and you shall hear what it is to be a full-grown adult male animal with hair down to the ass and a fine set of muscles"), cocaine addled mystic, this drug dealing New Yorker, Nicholas, with his kooky predilection for impromptu longueurs galore on things like leonine symbolism one second or Botticelli's illustrations for The Inferno the next. The novel compels its "Dear Reader ... Lovely Hypocrites" along with Nicholas' digressive commentary (is it maybe Michael McClure's astute social commentary disguised?) because, yes, it blends like this linguistic smoothie out of erudite esoterica and streetwise jive. The Adept is serious funny brains. McClure's colloquial commingling of down and dirty earthiness and high art prefigured David Foster Wallace's own super-smarts-meets-low-arts sensibility of style.
Nicholas' worldview counters the counterculture of his time. In 1971, when we meet him — we "Fine Punk Assholes" — whatever happy hippie idealism he may have once had has long escaped this enigmatic cynic for good—
"I despise the radical and social Left which would poison me and put me in a prison of Society—leaving me no pleasures but those of happy work, and marriage, and perhaps finally automation so that there would be nothing for me to do but watch state-owned television and pursue crafts and cultural events until the utopia breaks up in sheer boredom of existence."
I said I was enamored by the The Adept's cover at the outset. I'll say now I was mind blown by the book, and leave it at that, except for this beautiful bit of prose—
"A rose is not only beautiful when new but it is also beautiful when wilted. The Japanese know this. There is more thought in a wilted rose than in a new rose. The new rose, lucent flower meat, gleams and gives off light like a psychedelic drug being whirled in a centrifuge in a dark room. No, not like that. The new rose is new flesh. It stares back at you. It is shocked to be removed from the garden, but newborn to be unitary, disparate, and free.… (mais)
2 
absurdeist | Sep 5, 2016 |
absurdeist | Sep 5, 2016 | 
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Associated Authors
Estatísticas
- Obras
- 74
- Also by
- 17
- Membros
- 761
- Popularidade
- #33,429
- Avaliação
- 4.0
- Críticas
- 7
- ISBN
- 62
- Línguas
- 1
- Marcado como favorito
- 3