Bowles Books

I have to agree with another reviewer, I didn't think it was a radical new direction for biography either... I'm not even done with the book yet and I'm still waiting for Ms. Dillon to begin shifting the focus of her investigations away from herself and Jane Bowles.
Right now I'm thinking that perhaps I'd prefer reading The Invisible Spectator by Christopher Sawyer-Laucanno. Maybe that would be a better portrait of Mr. Bowles...

Paul Bowles, probably best known for The Sheltering Sky, which arrived on the literary scene in 1949 signaling the impending arrival of that Pandora's Box better known as Postmodernism, was a living literary anachronism. He was the American expatriate artist non plus ultra, the bohemian incarnate, someone who had turned his back on America in a quiet gesture of rebellion to follow his true calling as a writer and composer, travelling the world and finally coming to rest in distant, exotic Tangier. The fact that he'd quit college and run away to Paris to rub shoulders with the literati and surrealists, and had managed to be received by Gertrude Stein, confirmed for many the non-academic view of how one could move up in the world. And the fact that it was Gertrude Stein who suggested to Bowles that he stop writing poetry, and that he should visit Tangier, sanctioned the belief in the life-altering powers of chance and synchronicity, endearing him to the Beats, the hippies, and generations to come.
Above all, it was Bowles' unique stance as an outsider in the otherwise clubby world of literature that appealed to many. Although frequently associated with the Beats, other than a few snapshots where he appears in the company of Allen Ginsberg, William Burroughs and Gregory Corso, and despite the fact that Bowles was also an experimenter with drugs and their relation to creativity, he really didn't have much in common with the Beats. Bowles was too much the dandy and gentleman, travelling through North Africa in his Jaguar sedan with his Moroccan driver, complete with stacks of trunks and suitcases full of impeccable suits and ties and shoes, sometimes even accompanied by a parrot in a cage, about as far from On The Road as one could get while still being on the road. Bowles was Bowles wherever he went, which seemed to follow a course along the frontier of Western civilization, especially those places where it came into dangerously close contact with primitive or native cultures that had little respect or even understanding of Western ways, a sort of moveable confrontation which formed the basis of the majority of his literary work. His macabre and at time nihilistic stories and novels had more in common with post-war existentialism than anything Beat or beatific.
Despite numerous interviews and articles, as well as several full-scale biographies, the opaque and enigmatic nature of Paul Bowles was already legendary in his own lifetime. Even his autobiography, Without Stopping (dubbed Without Telling by William Burroughs), told the reader basically nothing. Millicent Dillon, an excellent writer in her own right, and editor of Out in the World: Selected Letters of Jane Bowles, 1935-1970, as well as The Portable Paul and Jane Bowles, already proved her acumen and talent for biographical writing with her highly acclaimed book, A Little Original Sin, The Life and Works of Jane Bowles. In You Are Not I, A portrait of Paul Bowles, Dillon pushes the envelope of biographical writing to new extremes. Much of this book is based on her visits to Tangier to interview Paul Bowles for her biography of his wife, Jane. Gradually, the idea for a book about Paul Bowles himself began to take shape, a project which began in 1992. Eschewing the standard chronological mode of biography, Dillon has opted for an innovative blend of factual material, conversations, and speculation, using her first meeting with Bowles in 1977 as a point of departure. Utilizing the intimacy of her relationship with Paul Bowles that was established during Dillon's research and countless interviews concerning his wife, it required only a subtle shift to put the focus on Bowles himself. What follows is an absorbing narrative which eventually becomes a self-reflexive consideration of the biographical process itself. The penetrative nature of Dillon's questioning and Bowles' frank answers sometimes pushed their conversations into the realm of psychodrama. The resulting "portrait" is astonishingly detailed and revealing, simultaneously expanding and deconstructing the existing parameters of biographical writing, a biography turned "inside out."
The Paul Bowles that emerges remains as enigmatic as ever, but thanks to Dillon's oblique line of inquiry and sensitivity to her subject, we are given a rare opportunity to peer behind the sphinx-like facade of one of the twentieth century's most complex and inscrutable writers.

Yes, read this book. I liked it because I felt I was in this exotic, strangely present yet distant place, with Paul & Millicent Dillon. And also Jane. Maybe you know what I mean if you like Paul Bowles.

This is a loving book. It is a pleasant place to be -- with elements of disturbance, as you would expect. It is an addition to what you already have.

Just finished the book. Fascinating in its detail about Bowles' life in North Africa. But, a new form of biography? No, I don't think so. Rather, a series of extended interviews with Dillon's highly subjective and personal analytical apparatus attached to them. Or, simply a memoir. I think there is a great danger of loss of perspective when a writer admires his / her subject too much, as well as admiring too much his / her relationship with the subject. I had this uncanny feeling all throughout the book that Bowles, as he did with other people he knew, was stringing Dillon along, knowing he could hand here just about anything for posterity. The photograph on the back fold of the dust jacket speaks volumes, as Dillon gazes in what looks like rapture upon an apparently inert Bowles. He wasn't that good of a writer. And, I disagree with both of them. Sheltering Sky was a fine film....

Having spent a good deal of time reading the work of Paul Bowles, I found it an interesting read for the fact that it gave insight to Bowles and his recollections of life in a fascinating time. A time of which he shaped a piece. He's a tremendously interesting character, all the more engaging because of his modesty and self effacing style.

I found Millicent Dillon's style to be rather annoying, however. Dillon constantly returns to a focus on herself. She writes endlessly about herself, how she feels, how she writes, how she fits into it all - and that's not why I bought the book. I wanted to read about Bowles, and found Dillon putting herself into way too much of the book. She'd never be mistaken for a fly on the wall.

I was loooking forward to this book, hoping it would be about Paul, whom I knew fairly well and whose work I much admire. But it's not primarily about Paul; it's about Ms. Nutting and her silly fantasies. This book is sheer narcissism, an ego-trip par excellence. And Ms. Nutting's photos aren't all that good either. Why anyone would pay $75 ($60 on Amazon) for this nonsense is beyond me. Here are the same old stories (about Cherifa and Jane, etc.) told better elsewhere (i.e. in the biographies.) There's unattractive cattiness here as well -- for example the mean reference to the number of letters Paul may or may not have written to Debra Winger. Finally there's little perception into Paul's behavior -- the passive-aggressive way he manipulated everyone (especially the marginal people) around him. Paul Bowles was a superb writer and a fascinating man...but he was also a complex human being with plenty of faults and flaws. Unfortunately there's nothing here but empty idolatry.

Paul Bowles' collaboration with the photographer Cherie Nutting was a very special endeavor. It was his last writing before his death in November 1999. This hardcover book is beautifully produced, and Mr. Bowles himself actually handwrote some of the text and wholeheartedly participated in it. He relied on the artistic ability of his friend to produce--over a period of many years--such quality photos of himself and those around him. This is a 'must have' book for any afficionado of Paul Bowles. I highly recommend it. It is inconceivable to me why anyone would write a negative review, but perhaps those are the unfortunate and jealous souls who were not included.

This is an untypical book about an untypical person. Just as the photographs of the Western and Southwestern landscape by Ansel Adams evoke the majesty of nature, so do the photographs of Cherie Nutting well represent the life and surroundings of the author Paul Bowles. The Bowles mystique is spread throughout the land. Here in Chicago respected Tribune columnist Jon Anderson and political and real estate consultant Phil Krone were among Bowles' friends and admirers. In a sense Nutting's volume pierces through the myth that Bowles was a reclusive hermit. In fact he was a very social and convivial man who balanced his life between the discipline of hard work that any craft requires, and the conduct of life as a traveler, not only through geography but minds as well. In a very lighthearted and elegiac way this is what Ms. Nutting captures.

Cherie Nutting somehow attached herself to Paul Bowles and took lots of photographs. Many of these are of herself in various gauzy poses. We also get the inside story in the form of her dreamlife. "Memoir" indeed, but who cares? What does all this have to do with Paul Bowles, especially the version that created the books and music? Toward the end of this volume we realize how lonely and confused Mr. Bowles was, and how ripe for an opportunistic Ms. Nutting. I don't know exactly what to call this thing, but the Bowles name would more correctly appear in it as a footnote.

Yesterday's Perfume is a veritable banquet of tastes and sensations as well as an honest and intimate tribute to the late Paul Bowles.

Cherie Nutting truly loved "Pablo" as she refers to him, and her photos reflect her affection and reverence. In his last year of life Bowles spent considerable time preparing observations and comments for this book to both make it more marketable and to demonstrate his affection for Cherie Nutting.

This is a very handsome book. Its photographs are rich in symbolism as well as substance. For those who are interested in Bowles, this book will be most satisfying indeed.

As a grandmother, I am delighted to see this kind of marvelous nutrition information in a form children will love. Hopefully their parents will accidentally learn also.

I see many, many children today who know nothing about what they should eat and why (and don't) but, what is worse, I see too many parents not paying attention to the need for these foods for healthy children. What a travesty!

It is my understanding that health organizations over the country have discovered them and are putting them where mothers come for WIC assistance. Perhaps that will break a pattern of ignorance that will eventually bring benefits to our wonderful country as a whole. Nutrition is vital but unless we know about it we will be the losers.

The excellent artwork, the detail and then the high quality, high gloss paper all come together for the perfect gift for grandparents. I have 11 grandchildren and 4 (going on 5 great grandchildren) and intend to use it to say things I hesitate to say in person.

As a grandmother, I am delighted to see this kind of marvelous nutrition information in a form children will love. Hopefully their parents will accidentally learn also.

I see many, many children today who know nothing about what they should eat and why (and don't) but, what is worse, I see too many parents not paying attention to the need for these foods for healthy children. What a travesty!

It is my understanding that health organizations over the country have discovered them and are putting them where mothers come for WIC assistance. Perhaps that will break a pattern of ignorance that will eventually bring benefits to our wonderful country as a whole. Nutrition is vital but unless we know about it we will be the losers.

The excellent artwork, the detail and then the high quality, high gloss paper all come together for the perfect gift for grandparents. I have 11 grandchildren and 4 (going on 5 great grandchildren) and intend to use it to say things I hesitate to say in person.

I received this as a gift because my little boy's name is Alexander. I think it's poorly written and poorly drawn. My husband and I are not "PC freaks", but we are both disgusted by how violent and rude the fruits are to each other. The nutritional information is also not accurate. Since when are oranges a source of calcium to any meaningful degree?

This book is nothing but geological quackery! If Bowles had any real evidence for his claims there would be a guaranteed Nobel prize in it. As it stands his "theories" haven't even been submitted to the peer-review process. This book isn't worth the paper it's printed on.

It's a well-written and deeply interesting book, and its semi-autobiographical approach gives it an important personal touch.

[Reviewer: Colin Wilson, author of, "From Atlantis to the Sphinx," "The Atlas of Holy Places and Sacred Sites," & "Unsolved Mysteries past and Present."]

Geological research developed over the past 50 years indicates that the Earth's crust, [which we might liken to a loose film] has moved over the viscous inner layers of the Earth's mantle many times in earth's history. The fascinating evidence for these events was first discovered by Professor Charles Hapgood who later published the findings [with forward by Dr. Albert Einstein] in the first of his two landmark books, "Earth's Shifting Crust," and [now back in publication] "The Path of the Pole."

Einstein did not endorse Hapgood's theory without reservation, however, stating, "The only doubtful assumption is that the earth's crust can be moved easily enough over the inner layers."

Einstein's reservations on this issue went unanswered for three decades ... that is until a new author/researcher by the name of James Bowles published his findings. Now, in this intriguing and well researched book, "The Gods, Gemini, and the Great Pyramid," Bowles presents, [in complete agreement with Hapgood's treatise] the determining cause of these crustal shifts. In a fascinating piece of detective work [conducted as methodically as the best Sherlock Holmes novel] Bowles follows a trail of clues that ultimately leads him to the process that conditions Earth's inner surface for crustal displacement. Called Rotational-Bending, or simply the RB-Effect, this natural [gravitationally induced] process once and for all settles the debate [in favor of Catastrophism] that has raged for centuries.

In the Introduction Bowles writes:

"We rotate, tilted at an angle of 23º 27' [24 hours a day, year after year, millennium after millennium] while the moon, pulling relentlessly at us, circles the earth. With no change in time we orbit the sun and again we experience the relentless pull of gravity. The combined gravitational effects from the sun and the moon, and to a lesser extent that of the planets, pull at the crust from this oblique angle, relentlessly wearing the crust down until it is wrested from its moorings and fails from fatigue."

As valued as this work is, Bowles has also discovered that the line figures that are scribed on the barren Pampa above Nasca Peru are an ancient Bible whose parent texts [which they serve to illustrate] are those found on the walls of the Fifth and Sixth Dynasty pyramids in Saqqara, Egypt. In Part III of this well illustrated, well documented book, Bowles shows how these two sacred sites, Nasca and Giza, unite with a third site in Alaska to form a Sacred Triad with the angular dimensions of the Great Pyramid. Bowles goes on to show how this Sacred Triad lay [circa 30,000 BC] with both Nasca and Giza, [and fascinatingly enough, the Great Sphinx] on the Equator during the early epoch when [as demonstrated by Hapgood] Alaska occupied the Polar position.

This is absolutely a must book for readers interested in Hapgood's work, in man's origins, and in Earth's future.

Richard W. Noone, author, "5/5/2000, Ice: The Ultimate Disaster."

Unfortunately, Isabelle Eberhardt died at 27, her major manuscript lost in the flood that took her life. Our loss.

This volume contains 11 short stories, a diary excerpt and a letter to the editor defending her integrity. Paul Bowles has provided in the preface a reasonably detailed account of her life. The book would be valuable solely as a historical piece - a sympathetic view of the natives who are in the process of being subjugated by France.

However, the writing is a pleasure to read, often becoming almost a prose poem. "The dry wind, completing its work of cracking open the earth, whipped against the muscles of his legs ..." from Blue Jacket. "It burns in the sunlight, a dusty stripe between the wheat's dull gold on one side, and the shimmering red hills and grey-green scrub on the other." from Outside.

These are stories of wanderers, soldiers, young girls in love, old displaced farmers, and oblivion seekers. Eberhardt has the ability to make these characters both very specific and universal. Unfortunately, she did not live to produce more of this splendid writing. I have to be satisfied with this slim volume.

Isabelle Eberhardt's collection of short stories is intriguing. It is a bit dark yet uses beautiful imagery, esp of the natural surroundings of the Algerian Desert (Sahara). However, be forewarned that most of these stories were put together after her untimely death, and may not all be her own. Only the last 2 can be confirmed as penned by her word for word.

Isabelle Eberhardt captures the oppressed spirit of the Islamic men within her description of the kif smokers holed up in a ramshackle shelter for the night. In this short story "The Oblivion Seekers" she paints a descriptive picture of the backward desert towns of Morocco and aptly draws a subtle metaphor between a captive falcon and the plight of the Arab men.
On a road to anywhere else is the town of Kenadsa in a desolate town with not even essential human comforts, here of all places, "where there is not even a café", Eberhardt discovers a kif den. The Islamic kif dens of the late 1800's were not unlike the crack houses of today; hidden away in unforgiving places, always in poor sanitary conditions. These places are the sanctuaries for the homeless, the lost, the spiritually bankrupt, the wanderers of our day. This one was similar at least with regards to décor. This particular kif den, despite it derelict location, was of higher quality than most. It was in a "partially ruined house behind the Mellah, a long hall lighted by a single eye in the ceiling of twisted and smoke blackened beams". Eberhardt's passage continues, "The walls are black, ribbed with light colored cracks that look like open wounds". Within this apparent squalor are collected together vagabonds, nomads, persons of dubious intent and questionable appearance for the purpose of smoking kif.
Among them, on a "rude perch of palm branches" is a falcon. The captive falcon is tethered to the makeshift perch by a string around one leg. When unencumbered, falcons spend their time surveying the land from the tall branches of mighty trees or soaring in the clouds, high over the desert cliffs, keeping dominion over their land. Surprisingly, a simple string keeps the falcon terrestrial and prevents him from living out his true destiny.
Just as the owner of the proud raptor goes untold in Eberhardt's story, the oppressor of the Islamic men is neither disclosed; only the oppressed condition in which they all find themselves is described. It could be the politics of the region, the occupation of the land by foreigners, or the poverty inflicted by the desert on all its inhabitants. Reason aside, even the "most highly educated" of Islam can succumb to the oppression of the spirit.
Gathered this evening in the den, among others, is a Moroccan poet, a wanderer in search of native legends; to keep alive he composes and recites verse. There is a Filali musician, rootless without family nor specific trade. There too, a Sudanese doctor who follows the caravans from Senegal to Timbuktu. All, men in search of a medicine to help them forget. To help them forget the futility of their existence - wandering from place to place with no good purpose. These men should be part of a thriving free culture, able to spread their talents to the ends of the Islamic world. The art, music and science are essential pinnings of the Islamic spirit. With a free spirit they wander to the horizons with purpose as surely they, or their predecessors, once did; free to dream and make real those dreams.
Eberhardt writes, "even in the darkest purlieu of Morocco's underworld such men can reach the magic horizon where they are free to build their dream-palaces of delight". The Islamic men are proud men, intelligent men, with dreams and aspirations of freedom and self-determination but their desires, just like the falcon, are restrained. They travel across the desert from country to country undeterred by political boarders. They live off the land - on what meagerness the desert will yield. Yet, a metaphorical string around their ankle binds them tight. The men of Islam can roam freely about the desert but it is their Islamic spirit that is tethered. Consequently, they pursue their dreams in the "clouds of narcotic smoke".

Two serious ladies is a very strange book. The first time I read it I didn't quite undestand it but it caught me instantly. Jane Bowle's style is amazing. Circles and circles of rare relationships, quear people, exotic and everyday's ambients, perfect sentences, subtle humour forms this authentic masterpiece.
Once read, it will stay in your mind. Why do these women behave as they do?, what is Bowles triying to tell us? It's all crypt. You can read it and read it all over again and again and your conclusions will change.
Bowle's other writing (a play and short fiction)has the same quality: refreshing, new, modern. Nothing you will read will present you such an original brain. After all our tradition is that of sinners

With shrewd wit, candour and a touch of the bizarre, Two Serious Ladies follows the demise into debauchery of two very dissimilar yet equally stodgy women, who aquire a fondness for eccentric personages. Christina Goering - rich, saintly spinster - turns high class call girl, whilst Frieda Copperfield - caught in a respectable, though staid marriage - abandons her husband for Pacifica, a Panamanian prostitute. The restless, autonomous, asexual female seeking self determination independent from men is a poignant theme which Jane Bowles explores with remarkable cleverness, hilarity and ruthless originality.Two Serious Ladies is a marvellous example of Jane Bowles' extraordinary talent as a writer of contemporary fiction - often obscured by her small literary output and the talent of her husband, writer Paul Bowles ... unfortuately so.

"Two Serious Ladies" was recommended in the Francine Prose book "Reading Like a Writer." It's disturbing in that the flat and freakish characters are highly privileged and extremely neurotic (or, as they prefer to think of themselves, "nervous"), their lives happening on parallel tracks, unable to connect meaningfully even with their closest family and friends.

Anais Nin wrote in Volume 5 of her Diary about the time "... (when) Jane brought out her first book [Two Serious Ladies]. I remember I was so distressed by the tightness, the involuted quality, the constricted, coiling inward (not into an infinite interior but a tight one) that I wrote her a careful, gentle, warm letter warning her of the danger of constriction for a writer, and she took it as a condemnation (a wrong interpretation). She asserted it was that letter which arrested her writing. Knowing how tenderly I handle writers, I knew my letter could not have been harmful. The difficulties were in herself." I must agree with Anais.

This book reminded me of the movie "Breaking the Waves" with Emily Watson, with repressed characters who punish or deny themselves and call it spirituality and sensitivity. The author also refuses to show all of the characters' actions within the story, perhaps to mirror the characters' withholding natures, but one expects more from the author. The book has some rewards, but I was happy to be done with it.

I am currently enrolled in an Aromatherapy class and this was one of the recommended books. It certains goes a long way to demystify the chemistry of essential oils. Plus, it's not a "dry" chemistry book ... it's actually a fairly easy read.

Very uneven book. There was excruciating detail on some topics and not nearly enough on others. Disappointing.

Well, I had high hopes for this. The summary on the back sounded very interesting, but it ended up being rather boring. It seemed like the author was trying to write poetry in prose form. The idea was kind of cool, but it really lacked something. Parts of the different descriptions were intriguing, but in the end it left you wondering exactly what happened. I know it was about "True" life in Guatemala, but that's it. Some ideas were worth pondering and I recommend this for a suicidal college poet, but not anyone else.

"Set in Guatemala, these spare and beautiful tales are linked by themes of magic, violence, and the fragility of existence. Paul Bowles' translation perfectly captures Rey Rosa's stories of the haunted lives of ordinary people in present-day Central America."

this book, we are told, was originally a manuscript of 1,308 pages. i mention this because one comes upon paragraphs here and there that seem part of a longer work. the first chapters are by far the best with the narrative smooth and the early years "fleshed out". however, when bowles' artistic carreer begins so do the problems, which may have to do with the tremendous job of cutting out 3/4 of the original manuscript.
the book contains no new important information or point of view but there are some new details here and there ( mainly about press runs, money matters and sexual partners).
ms. carr travelled 13 times to tangier for her research, arranged for bowles' medical operations in the u.s.a. and had her subject as a house guest for 3 months. however, bowles' literary executor refused to authorize this biography. we are not told why.

Virginia Spencer Carr is not only a fine biographer in this recounting of the life of the ubiquitous Paul Bowles, she also was a friend of a fascinating man who touched many aspects of the arts and made his mark in multiple areas of creation. Some of those areas were in his friendships and interpersonal critiquing of famous artists such as WH Auden, Benjamin Britten, Ned Rorem, Aaron Copland, Tennessee Williams, Virgil Thompson, Carson McCullers, and Gertrude Stein. His life began as a poet, progressed through years as a composer of music that never quite found its place, and ended as a novelist of such impressive books as 'The Sheltering Sky', 'Let It Com Down', 'The Spider's House' etc.

Carr takes all this into account and serves it up with a thorough amount of information about Bowles' carefully guarded private life. Married to lesbian author Jane Bowles, Paul Bowles was one of those sub rosa gay artists who managed to bond with many other great gay artists in a time when such interplay was hardly condoned. Carr manages to give insight as to how these people learned form each other (for instance the infamous February House in New York where many of them lived communally for a while); she does this without resorting to gossip or sensationalism, respecting the fact that writing biography includes an obligation to yield a viable picture of the subject.

Bowles spent much of his life in Tangiers (this is where Carr first met him) and most of his successful novels and writings were influenced by his observations of the clashes between the 'tourists' who visit Morocco yet never connects with the realites and idiosyncrasies of that mysteriously magical place. Much the same could be said about the ambiguous persona of Paul Bowles. How much of his life was due to his inherent talents and how much was due to his integral interplay with the artists of his entourage? Carr poses some fine explanations in this very readable biography of a man who remains an enigma. Grady Harp. July 05

Well worth reading if you're a fan of Bowles. Slow and mysteriously vaporous, like much of his fiction. Full of subtle insights (both intended and unintended) into his mind and his writing.

Reading books like this makes me wonder why I have a day job. Bowles weaves an intricate yet breakneck-speed bio of his life, starting with childhood and racing to his life in Tangiers in the early 70's. The biggest shock to me was the amount of work this guy got done. He was writing ballets, scores, soundtracks, books, poetry, newspapers, pamphlets, and orchestra pieces almost nonstop. Even as a kid, he'd write pages and pages a day, and later, he'd type for hours without stopping, hence the title of the book. His travels are also amazing; in an age with little air travel he zips to France, Morocco, India, Panama, Cuba, the Bahamas, all over the US, and dozens of other places too numerous to count. Plus he's met and had long friendships with scores of famous people: Salvador Dali, Bela Bartok, Aaron Copeland, Gertrude Stein, Arthur C. Clarke, Bill Burroughs, Jack Kerouac, Tennessee Williams, and many others. The book is thick and takes time to crawl through, but every time I set it down, I wanted to either start writing a book or a play or take off for a distant region. My only complaint is that sometimes Bowles like to insert a random line of French or Spanish, which annoys me because I know either. And he tends to drop names rapidly, making you wish you had a score card or a flowchart or something. But Bowles is definitely an interesting guy, and his life story is worth reading.