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FUSIONED - DIRECTED - WRITTEN AND CORRESPONDED BY: MENASSA 2002
DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPEAK BUT WE DO IT IN SEVERAL LANGUAGES
GRIS, IS A PRODUCT
INDIO GRIS Nº 116
WITH THE POET MIGUEL OSCAR MENASSA
You're painting better and better, eh! Well, what must be said is that
I want to paint.
Exactly, that's what must be done. We have to use the verbs in the
infinitive. Look, if this comes to my mind: "I want to fuck Marilyn
Monroe", poor darling, she's dead. It is difficult, I have to turn
into an esoteric.
Going back to the theme about how you recite, you recite as if you were
in front of a million people.
Always, just in case. But it is also true that when I make love with an
unknown woman, I make it the best way I can, just in case. In case of
what? Just in case that that woman wants to remain with me or close to
me. Look if I just make a mistake with the woman who wants to remain by
my side and I make love badly. Do you understand? And it is the same
with poetry, with poetry I try to make the poem the best way possible,
while I'm writing it. In the sense that I don't know if poetry would
give me the chance of writing another poem, if I'm not good at writing
or I write reluctantly or while I'm writing I say that the poet's life
is noxious. I'm convinced that a writer is a privileged man in the
current systems of cohabitation. They allow us to see something and, of
what we see, they allow us to tell something and that is an enormous
you move away from the painting, you will see some figures made in ochre
which you'll have to respect totally; to fill in all the space but
respecting the figures in ochre, please, because they are extremely
beautiful. Let's see if you can get it, let's see if you can have some
limit. Creation without limits is worthless. Because I recite for a
million people, but I don't feel that I'm the best poet of the world, do
you understand what I say? I feel that there are thousands of poets like
me, but they can't recite in front of so many people, there aren't
thousands that have an editorial that supports them, there aren't
thousands who earn a living working in another field. Only then, freedom
is fully freedom. In that sense I feel like a privileged person. How, if
I'm a privileged person, I'm going to recite a poem and I'm going to
recite it more or less. No, I may recite it badly but placing my life in
that reciting. And when one places one's life on something, it is very
difficult for it to have a bad outcome. Do you understand what I'm
I gamble with advantage, because I evidently don't know the results, but
what I know is that when one places one's life on something, generally
it has a good outcome. The filming industry is full of such movies, also
in literature. I'm recommending lately this Thomas Mann's book, The
Chosen, there the main character is a man who has an infinite power
and is always victorious, on condition that he can concentrate all his
energy on only one point.
To concentrate all the energy on only one point…
Yes, of course, there must be a lot of religious theories based on that.
I, sometimes, commit the lapsus when I'm reading, you can denounce me,
each time I commit a lapsus is because I think of a word. For example,
the other day I slipped in the letter "o", "it is as if
it would have taken possession of
my work" and in the word appropriate, there I made an error, I said
appropriat. I equivocated myself because, before pronouncing the word, I
wanted to know what to take possession of the work really meant, and
You placed an idea in what has to be done…
In what I have to do, my work there wasn't to know how is it that one
takes possession of one's work or not, that is another moment.
It wasn't about judging the writer.
It was to say the word well-said, because I was reciting.
CS: Of course, because there you were questioning the writer, you
were saying, what does this man mean?
Yes, questioning or wanting to understand him. If I kiss you and you
like it and you want to understand why you like it… You, if you like
it, you take a stand, you take me there with you, and afterwards when
someone asks you, but why are you living with this crazy man? You tell
that someone: "ah, but you don't know the kiss he gave me".
Stop joking, Salamanca, because we have a very experienced audience in
these things of the psyches.
That about how to recite in front of a crystal eye makes me remember
some verses of your last book.
"Eyes of the world, listen to me".
Yes, and also: "I write for the one who without knowing who is
speaking, will listen to my voice".
What happens is that there the poet thinks that when he dies, the
people who weren't fortunate enough to know him personally,
without knowing who is speaking, will listen to his voice. And besides
this is a phrase theoretically touched by love in psychoanalysis, which
implies to give what you don't have to someone who isn't. In reality,
when one finishes writing, the poem doesn't belong to the writer any
more and the person who really will be able to receive the message, if
there were any message in the poem, is someone who wasn't born yet.
slipped from your hands, because you would like to be the one who
understands the message.
was what I wanted to be
was what I wanted to be,
was a little man,
lived gratefully: I was able,
have been so far away from everything, that no one will recognise in me the one
I was close to my mother, close to my motherland, close to my own convictions.
admit it, all of us turned a little into idiots, a little mad, from having lost
our parents, our tittles, our institutions.
in me is full lust when I try to tell myself in writing those things that I
should have known in another way.
nobody would believe that we have done it, without fleeing, without killing. As
if our thought were light, as if our words were enamoured fireflies.
This time, doctor, no fear will stop me. Nor even my fear to
taxes: up to a weekly million pesetas, I won't stop.
if any woman tries to recall my miserable past, I'll buy her a gold
Everyone wants to be God - I told him - it isn't so serious.
baby, you are a little tense.
couldn't relax more, but I would try it. She was a wonderful woman to me
and I wanted to demonstrate it to her.
was getting ready for me to lick her pussy one more time and I, again
knelt down between her legs, and he knelt down behind me and while I
her sweetly, he fucked me through my ass.
were a non-repeatable scenery. Nor a pampa, nor a dry plateau, we were
that tangled green which is expected with the coming of the sex of love.
baby, enjoy baby. Do you know how you're going to make me come?
couldn't stop licking, now he became cruel with her ass. She became more
and more crazy. He could hold on any more, I couldn't hold on any more,
she was fresh as if we had just started, she begs, looking at my eyes,
that I lick
her once more.
got on top of her belly and shaking his dick with enormous energy, came
over my face between her legs.
three of us kissed gratefully.
nightingales, I tell you: madness is a curse in herself, I don't want to
day will come when all the account is reduced to the years lived.
is a degree of possible happiness, let's go for it.
I have realised that everybody wants to meddle in your invention, but
the invention doesn't allow to be commercialised and if I talk all day
about money it is to make people believe that I'm interested in money.
In this way I get that they invest some time, some money in the project.
have to oblige time to die among us, to exercise to be something
different to time, that it can die, and so it will become human. The
rest, scientific nonsense.
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