mercredi 2 novembre 2011

John A. Williams, !CLICK SONG, Boston, Houghton Mifflin Co, 1982, 430 pages.

We have to get up and get to doing things. I am pulling together some notes for a new book. And I have to straighten out the house. Company is coming, company of a sort. And Allis has to do some shopping for dinner. Nothing special, because the company is not all that special. The company is Maureen Gullian, and I'm not happy with her or Twentieth Century Forum Publishers, so the situation is tit for tat. Even before I adressed the sales meeting, they had expressed a distinct lack of interest for my work. That atmosphere seemed to have surrounded the work of nearly all black writers, though of course no editor or publisher would admit it. They want to score, bag a book that'll make beaucoup bread. But the times are tough. Even white writers are screaming with the pinch of things.
It is now recognized that the big change in the business has arrived, and it is that art comes after moneymaking, which is to say that art exists only as a commodity. We learn from our literature mainly how to entertain, be entertained and to escape the terrible truths that have slyly informed our lives.
Maureen Gullian is too young to understand. Maybe, though, she is young enough to understand it precisely.
(p. 159)

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