The "saga" of the Dostoyevskian "underground" world of the "contemporary" subverting intellectual brought to an end here...
Translation of Eric Mottram’s KRIM: AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY TO SEPTEMBER 1989 - III by T. Wignesan
( This poem is from the collection, ESTUARIES: Poems 1989-91. Twickenham: Solaris, 1992, 62p. Pub. by Yasmin and Peterjon Skelt. Back cover photo by David McIntosh, “my sister’s son” - Eric makes this a point of emphasis in his own hand on the fly page, for in his own words he was very close to his nephew in his later days. As the poem extends over four pages, I have divided it - for convenience sake - into three arbitrary parts. Just for the anecdote, Eric underwent severe memory erasures during a traumatic event in the seventies, and he had no clue as to who I was after a lapse of 22 years when we met up again in 1989. See extracts of his letters to me during the period 1957-61 in the festschrift: Eric Mottram at 70, pub. by Y. & P. Skelt.
Eric was going through some kind of "vapid hell" as I watched him often wondering at who I was post-1989: he took me for a student of his in Singapore - Nadeswaran - who vaguely resembled me physically. I must add here that his students in London didn't make things easier for him as they were quite obviously put out by his intellectual association with me in the pre-1967 years. Just for the anecdote, I might add that the "rupture" in our correspondence came about owing to an incident involving the late talented and polyvalent poet, novelist and professor John William CORRINGTON and (his later Hollywood scenarist) wife Joyce I invited for an evening at Eric's place in Vicarage Gate, High Street Kensington. Eric didn't quite take after them wholeheartedly as he was wont to do with the Beats, especially the very silent Joyce. Later Corrington wanted to replace Eric in London while he was away in America, and he got me to negotiate the exchange. Eric was quite obviously put out at my "indiscretion" in letting Corrington know about his sojourn in America. Tough luck all around, but I must say I liked the Corrington couple very much, indeed.)
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mes semblables et peut être également les vôtres aussi font semblant
ce que les autres personnes moins passionnées se sentent mais n’expriment pas
instinctivement rebellant contre un fait de notre société et de notre temps
le manquement de l’alignement entre un monde immense de l’intérieur
et d’un autre qui ne soit pas encore été légalisé ou officiellement
reconnu les formes qui peuvent tolérer la crue
des communications provenant de l’esprit à la scène d’action
de telles actes d’expression sont sévi par le sang avant
qu'elles puissent être tolérées et être comprissent par les psychiatres
sociologues l’appareil judiciaire la police (et) tout autres formes de la force sociale
*
l'émergence d’une démocratie émotionnellement meurtrière
dérangeaient les vieilles catégories
*
risquer tout en s’alignant à un point de vue qui
le conduira dans un conflit avec les plus normales (partagée par la majorité)
émotions humaines au milieu d’une société de masse?
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nous pouvons changer les définitions sur la réalité lesquelles sont déjà peu soutenables
perdant leurs prises sur l’imagination conceptuelle
*
la peur et même la pensée en vigueur de ce qu’on majoritairement appela
l’insanité c’est presque une nécessité émotionnelle pour chaque sensible
être réagissant comme un humain entier de l’être humain en l’Amérique
*
et qu’elle sortes du feu à un point où d’autres mots
que les conceptions différentes soient crées là où se trouvent les plaies
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
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Reviews of "Translation ofEric Mottram’s KRIM:AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY TO SEPTEMBER 1989-III"
Bonjour Ron ! Yes, Eric Mottram was indeed very influential in the Anglo-American literary circuit, especially at London University. At international conferences, I had met academics who described him as the "most powerful" figure in London University, an image I never entertained of him earlier on, but, on meeting up again in 1989, I could easily see he was no more the humble feeling and helpful man he always was; instead, I saw a war-worn "battle horse" shorn of every vestige of companion-hood. It was obvious he had to fight his way tooth-and-nail to the top which was denied him in the sixties. He had his share of faults like everybody else, and I riled him up once again just for the fun of it. No one can deny he was a most remarkably gifted individual, endowed with a capacity for ceaseless application to his duties and an extraordinarily intelligent connoisseur of his fellow-men. To put it more crudely, he could simply see through people, just as he did with extremely difficult literary texts. He passed away far too soon. A real pity that. Thanks for your interest, but it would take much foraging to obtain the rights to include the original of his poems alongside my translations. Every good wish.
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