I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad, I got sunshine in a bag

Well, although William S Burroughs's book The Yage Letters looks long and intimidating, it's only about 80 or so pages. It's pretty enjoyable, until a little more than halfway through when Burroughs decides (predictably) that it would be a good idea to write while drugged (I assume it's while on yage) and writes something weird and gross about FDR. At which point I just kind of clasped my hands over my eyes and sighed: "Oh, William." After that point, I just kind of zoned in and out, to be honest. Hey, you want me to be fully immersed in your book, try not to have written whilst tripping. Yeah. Work on that, Will.

Anyway, the book is mainly Burroughs in South America searching for the fabled drug yage. (Which comes from the yage vine and has affects reportedly similar to marijuana.) The story is told through letters written to his buddy Allen Ginsberg. So, even though it's under 'fiction', it's technically true. Except for the part about FDR and his administration. Uh... I think.

I had a note about all the awful things Burroughs did say about FDR, but honestly, I don't feel comfortable copying them down. However, if you're really that interested, pick up a copy of The Yage Letters Redux. The cover is creamy white/yellow with a map on it and a piece of written on notebook paper that looks like a face. The worst of it is on page 44 of this edition, but it starts on page 41.

Oh, but Burroughs does name-drop HG Wells later on. "Did you ever read HG Wells' The Country of the Blind? About a man stuck in a country where all the other inhabitants had been blind so many generations they had lost the concept of sight. He flips. 'But don't you understand? I can see'" (46). I actually have read it; I read it over the summer. Not that I remember very much about it... I do remember thinking it was one of his few short stories I was really impressed with. The stuff of his that's not famous and well-known today really is kind of 'eh'.

"Yage is space time travel. The room seems to shake and vibrate with motion. The blood and substance of many races, Negro, Polynesian, Mountain Mongol, Desert Nomad, Polyglot Near East, Indian--new races as yet unconceived and unborn, combinations not yet realized passes through your body. Migrations, incredible journeys through deserts and jungles and mountains... across the Pacific in an outrigger canoe to Easter Island. The Composite City where all human potentials are spread out in a vast silent market" (50).

"They succumb to a creeping apathy and die of inertia" (85). Conclusion: when Burroughs isn't high as a kite, he's a wonder at phrasing and eloquence. Too bad that more often than not, he's high as a kite. If you really want to read him, try Junky. Do NOT for the love of God try Naked Lunch. You just want to kill yourself afterwards. I'm not even being over dramatic. I honestly wanted to die.