Who are these Surrealists, and why would they befriend me?
I shook my head. “There must be someplace… There’s got to be some way for a man to live.”
“Why not look for it here?” Robert Desnos asked. “I’ll help you, and so will Artaud.”
“In Paris?” I glanced around contemptuously. “No offense, but being a man of letters sitting in some café with his blood as pale as his skin—”
“But I agree with you!” Desnos exclaimed, amused. “I feel exactly as you do about academics in tweed, playing pimp with poems. You’ll meet the same problem no matter where you go. The world has been explored. The whole goddamned world has been at war.”
I shrugged. “I know.”
“Instead of walking where the footprints already are, and calling that an adventure—”
“Adventure,” I sneered without intending to, “is that what you call what we did this afternoon? A childish prank, that’s all it was.”
Desnos regarded me as I shoved at the pile of wood with my toe. “So what is your idea of adventure, Weidmann?” he demanded. “Enjoying beautiful women? Exploring Africa? Going to war? Couldn’t war be someone else’s childish prank?”
Earnestly I asked, “What’s your idea of adventure?”
About the Author
The author of this novel series has been working on a way to tell the story of the lives of Antonin Artaud and Robert Desnos for 30 years. Other publications include horror, science fiction, and weird short stories as well as independent journalism. “Personne” has also been an actor, dancer, scholar, librarian, archivist and voice-over artist.
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