Bret Easton Ellis, etc.

A high placed friend of mine is reading an advance copy of Bret Easton Ellis's new novel 'Lunar Park' (Knopf, August). I'm a real admirer of Bret's work, so I'm very curious. If you're curious too, it seems that the novel consists of three emeshed narratives. There's what appears to be an autobiographical narrative where Bret talks about his life and career, the reviews his books got, the shit he took for 'American Psycho,' the Brat Pack, his drug problems, his sexual identity, etc. Then there's a narrative that seems to be a kind of fantasy autobiography where Bret is or was married and has a son, maybe illegitimate, whom he's trying to reconnect with. Then there's what my friend described as a 'quasi-Stephen King style' story where the narrator (Bret) is living in a haunted house. My friend, who's also a fan, says it's a very strange novel full of Bret's terrific sentences and sense of irony, but he says he's not sure what to make of the confessional/self-conscious stuff yet (he's halfway through), in terms of whether it's sincere and truthful or part of a big mindfuck that will be revealed at the novel's end. Anyway, I thought I'd pass that along, for whatever it's worth.

PS to 'nick': I hven't seen 'Mysterious Skin' yet. I'd really like to hear your album. Post your email address in the comments or send it to me c/o the website they'll pass it on to me. I'll send you an address. Thanks.

PS to 'katerskate': I'd start with 'The Elementary Particles.'

PS to 'steve' and 'james': You're so right about Arthur Russell. I can't believe I spaced on him. I'm going to write the curator and add him to the list. Thanks a lot, guys.

PS to 'chris hughes': My computer fucked up a few weeks ago and I lost a ton of email addresses, including yours. Write me, and I'll write you back pronto.

Michel Houellebecq

The French writer Michel Houellebecq is on his first US tour, and yesterday afternoon he did an event at the Hammer Museum here in LA. I think he's quite an interesting novelist, maybe not up there with the great French writers of the past (both recent and distant), but in the context of the contemporary French literature that has been translated into English, he's as good as any of them (well, except Guyotat) and a lot better than most of the so-called literary American fiction writers getting all the critical hoopla these days. The event began with a surprise -- a raucous, ironic burlesque show featuring a parade of female strippers and a lame impressario telling crude jokes. The assembled literati were tense and uncomfortable, just as Houellebecq undoubtedly intended. Eventually he took the stage for an interview conducted by the novelist Sam Lipsyte. As you probably know, Houellebecq is a controversial guy who goes out of his way to court accusations of racism, misogyny, nationalism, and so on, but in person he was a tiny, delicate figure who either is -- or went out of his way to seem like -- a lowkey, bemused, civilized intellectual. While he said quite a few interesting things, especially about France's rejection yesterday the EU constitution, which he considers a great victory and an example of 'dangerous democracy,' Lipsyte's leaden, non-intuitive interviewing style was no fun at all. Granted, I'm a diehard Francophile who could happily listen to an intelligent French person talk about anything for twenty-four hours straight, but I think I can safely recommend that if his current tour takes him to your city, you should go.

Why the scrapbook

The great people who do the Dennis Cooper website tell me the site is down temporarily while they change servers, so I'm not sure if anyone will see this, today anyway. So I thought I'd use this vague day to briefly explain the weird scrapbook I'm keeping in the blog. When I'm writing something, I almost always keep a related scrapbook. I've done that since I was a teenager. It's a way for me think things out, develop characters, daydream around a writing project, experiment, etc. Normally they involve scissors, glue, and paper, but I decided to make this scrapbook using the blog format just to try something new. This scrapbook relates to a story I've been commissioned to write by a German magazine. They read in one of my interviews that I've barely ever written about cannibalism. So they asked me to write an erotic fiction piece about cannibalism. So I've taken up the challenge, and you're seeing me think 'aloud' while I work on it. So there's the context for those entries, if you're curious. (P.S.) 'katerskate': I'd love to see your work. Where can I write you? 'lux,' 'rusty,' james': I forgot about Talking Heads, you're right. Dictators almost made the list. ESG, yeah, an oversight. I don't know Loose Joints. 'Venus in Furs' pre-dates the period. Jonathan Richman was based in Boston at the time, as far as I know. Teenage Jesus and the Jerks deserve to be there, but I tried to sneak Lydia Lunch in with 'Death Valley '69.' Pere Ubu are really a Cleveland band. Thanks, guys.

Scrapbook, p. 4 1/2

Duh

Scrapbook, p. 4

Duh

List #2

One of the curators of an upcoming museum show about Downtown New York culture between the years 1974 and 1984 asked a number of artists including me to choose fifteen essential musical works that best represent that scene/time. The lists will be consolidated into a single list, and the consensus fifteen will be included in the show. I couldn't get my list any shorter than nineteen. Here it is, in no particular order. What do you guys think I missed?

1. The Contortions 'Flip Your Face'
2. Rhys Chatham 'Guitar Trio'
3. The Ramones 'Now I Wanna Sniff Some Glue'
4. Television 'See No Evil'
5. DNA 'Blonde Redhead'
6. Patti Smith'Gloria'
7. Sonic Youth 'Death Valley '69'
8. Glenn Branca 'The Spectacular Commodity'
9. Bush Tetras 'Too Many Creeps'
10. Swans 'Stay Here'
11. Richard Hell and the Voidoids 'Love Comes in Spurts'
12. New York Dolls 'Trash'
13. Ned Sublette 'The Buffalo Skinners'
14. Lou Reed 'Street Hassle'
15. Theoretical Girls 'You Got Me'
16. Laurie Anderson 'O Superman'
17. Suicide 'Dream Baby Dream'
18.The Heartbreakers 'Chinese Rock'
19. John Cale 'Engine'

Catch up 2

Visa update: There continues to be some hope that the woman I mentioned in an earlier post will be able to override the denial and get my boyfriend the visa. We both have a 'believe it when we see it' attitude because we've had so many disappointments along the way. Still, wary hope is better than the complete devastation we were feeling. I should have a more concrete sense of the realness and legitimacy of her claims by the beginning of next week. Until then, the stress and worrying and hoping against hope continues.

To 'steve': It's true that if my boyfriend gets the student visa, the battles will continue. But after a year and a half of having to go to Moscow or meet up in Europe just to be together, getting him into the US will be huge. But we'll have to hire a lawyer to work on getting him an extension or work visa as soon as he arrives, and it will definitely be difficult. No question.

To 'nikolas': I'm a huge fan of Xiu Xiu. I haven't met Jamie Stewart, but we exchanged supportive emails once. I might get to interview him for a friend's zine in the next few months. I hope so, because I think he's an amazing artist.

To 'jason,' 'nikki lace,' 'maximum etc,' and everyone else: Thanks so much.

To 'bristol': I haven't been in contact with JT Leroy for a long time, and I have nothing to say about him. Sorry.

To 'mace': (1) Yeah, Christian Bale's one of my closest friends, and he's an awesome person. I haven't seen 'Batman Begins' yet, but I will soon. My favorite performances by him are 'The Machinist,' 'American Psycho,' and 'Metroland.' (2) I'd have to say the worst band in the world right now is Coldplay. I don't think more gruesome music could even be possible.

To 'billybob': I have a few possible new novel ideas, but apart from making notes and scheming out structure and style stuff, nothing's in motion yet. I'm trying to finish my book of poems and working on a French theater piece. That's about it for now.

My nephew last night

my nephew, May 24, 2005
Originally uploaded by nonono2.

13 yrs; eighth grader; guitarist in a band; basketball player; science wiz; possible future car designer; favorite band: Blink 182.

My dad last night

my dad, May 24, 2005
Originally uploaded by nonono2.

89 yrs; President of the National Junior Chamber of Commerce; Miss America Pageant judge; agricultural advisor to Presidents Hoover, Truman, and Eisenhower; President of Big T Pump Company; President of Cooper Development Corporation (designer of early unmanned NASA rockets); former best friend of Rchard Nixon; author ('The Runt Pig Principle'); real estate developer; registered Democrat; favorite athlete: Tiger Woods.

p.s.

I'm not going to go all Lenny Bruce on this blog and turn it into a chronicle of my visa-related hell. By tomorrow I hope to be back to using the blog as a place to experiment -- be personal sometimes, try different things out, etc. But for today, first, I want to thank Jason, Justin, and Alexis for your kind words. I really appreciate it. Second, on the visa front, there is a new, tiny ray of hope. It's tiny, but it's something. Through friends, my boyfriend has gotten in contact with a woman who worked until recently in the Ministry of Foreign Business Affairs (or something close to that) in Moscow. She claims to have some influence in the American embassy due to her former position. She says that my boyfriend's visa denial was clearly arbitrary and that, based on his documents, he should be able to get the visa. So she says she is going to try to intervene and get the visa decision overturned. This doesn't mean she can. And, as my boyfriend is constantly telling me, Moscow is a city full of people misrepresenting themselves, and, as we will have to pay her for her services, there's the chance that this is true in her case. But we're desperate, and maybe just maybe she can help us. We both need to feel some hope right now, and so we do. I'm sure I'll put in updates here since this situation is the most important thing in my life, but I hope I'll be sparing with them. For now, my great thanks to any of you who are caring about this. Onwards.

Hell

My boyfriend's visa was denied. Why? Because the United States' policy is to deny Russians the right to enter the United States for absolutely no reason whatsoever. More than 80% of Russian citizens who apply for US tourist visas are denied them. For a student or work visa, even if a Russian has every reason to study or work here and the finances to support themselves, the chances they'll get a visa is below 50%. My boyfriend I spent more than eight months working every day to get every possible document, letter of support, guarantee of financial support, guarantee that he would return to Russia at the expiration of the visa. It was a student visa, and he even had a personal invitation from the President of the school, which is an extremely rare thing to get. He gathered far more documentation than is required for a visa just to make certain he would get the visa. And what happened? The official at the US embassy in Moscow who decides who is granted a visa did not even look at my boyfriend's documentation. They didn't even look at his case for the visa. The visa was denied immediately for absolutely no reason. They wouldn't give him a reason. There was no reason, and there's absolutely nothing can be done about it. It's a lingering punishment from the days of Communism. It's because Putin doesn't kiss Bush's ass correctly. Who fucking knows? So eight months of incredibly hard work and stress was for nothing, and at the moment it looks like I will be forced to leave the United States and live in another country to be with him. Having been denied a US visa makes it virtually impossible that he will ever be granted a US visa under any circumstances. It is sick, disgusting, infuriating, devastating, and a complete injustice. The shape of my future life is now distorted and very uncertain. Why? There is no why. I'm just in shock and I don't know what's going to happen. Sorry to rant, but there's nothing else.

Scrapbook, p. 3

THE JPEGS

39 yr old poz Black stud wants to seed a neg ass. I’m a recent ex-con, straight, Bernie Mac-type who got pozzed sharing needles in prison. I like the idea of killing guys this way. Plus it don’t violate my parole.

Listen, Bernie. This death sentence rhetoric is from twenty years ago. You can bareback for years before anything really bad happens. Take your depressing shit elsewhere. I’m a neg bottom and Ray Romano look-alike hoping to be bred by hung poz (status and outlook) tops.

Ray, Bernie here. I like your attitude. Can I kill you?

Catch up

Note to 'no direction': I'm definitely impressed by what Jay-Z I know -- mostly the obvious stuff. I need to investigate more. BTW, Wu Tang Clan, VU, Varese is a great combination. Hats off.

Note to 'aaron': Eagle eye.

Note to 'Jason': Your piece on 'The Sluts' is so smart and gratifying. My work is usually written about very superficially. When someone both really gets it and likes it, pure joy. Thank you.

Note to 'lux': I suck. I'm in a correspondence black hole. If you want to make that movie, cool. One of these days I'll write you properly. You didn't introduce me to Sunn 0))), but you furthered my knowledge.

PS: Okay, 'Sith' is much better than the previous two. It's essentially just an elaborate nostalgia trigger, and I think nostalgia should always be considered an enemy. But, yeah, it basically works.

Note: Some of you know I edit a line of adventurous new fiction books -- Little House on the Bowery. There's a really nice piece on the series and Martha Kinney's book in particular by Justin Taylor if you want to ckeck it out.

PS: Monday's visa decision looms. Fingers crossed for me, please. Thanks.

Scrapbook, p. 2

YUCK

My boo-boo made his
pee-pee gross. I mean
more gross. :-)

Today

7:30: Wake up, drink lots of coffee while reading and maybe writing email, looking around the web (pitchfork, aintitcool, porn, whatever else.) (Note to Chris H.: I'm in one of my incommunicative phases, sorry. I miss you guys. I'll write you today or tomorrow.)

9:18: Now.

10:00: Call my boyfriend. He's in Russia, 11 hour time difference. Talk for an hour or so. Monday we'll find out if he gets the US visa that we've been working towards for 8 months. (The US rarely lets Russians in.) If he gets it, unbelievable joy. If he doesn't, complete nightmare. Until Monday I'm a wreck.

approx 11 am: email, phone calls, finish writing and then send off two blurbs, work on poems, eat.

12:45: See Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith at the Cinerama Dome. My friend Robert bought two tickets and then got a job, so he passed them on to my friend Joel and me. I expect I'll hate it, as I hated the last two. Empty, expensive, soulless, airless, brain dead shit. But you never know.

after the movie: Go to Amoeba Records, buy the new Caribou album, new Deerhoof EP, maybe the new Excepter CD.

approx 4 pm: Work on poems, read mss. for my LHotB series, read some Kevin Killian (I'm editing his 'greatest hits' book), listen to music, call my dad (he's in town), finishing boxing up the last two years worth of stuff to send to my archive at NYU, call my mom (she might need knee surgery), whatever else.

6:30: Hang out with my friends John Williams and Aiko Hachisuka, two of LA's very best younger sculptors. I think we'll eat together, probably see a movie or rent something. They saw The Boredoms at the Knitting Factory on Tuesday and I want to hear about that. I went to the celeb-studded launch party for Playstation's PSP that same night, and they want to hear about that.

afterwards: Watch the Quentin Tarrantino directed CSI finale on tape (I don't give a shit about that show, but I like him). See if the Dodgers won, check email, etc.

approx 11:30: Sleep.

Scrapbook, p. 1

The Cannibal's Target

8 great forgotten rock albums

1. Buffy Sainte-Marie ILLUMINATIONS (Vanguard Records)
-- Best known as a 60s protest singer and Native American activist, she took acid or heroin or something in 1969 and made this trippy, eerie album that unites folk and psychedelic rock with early electronic music techniques (tape loops, moog noodling) a la the young Steve Reich.


2. Dr. Strangely Strange KIP OF THE SERENES (Progressive Line)
-- Sort of a stranger, less whimsical, darker Incredible String Band.


3. Clear Light CLEAR LIGHT (Collector's Choice)
-- LA psychedelic rock band of the late '60s, peers of Love and The Doors. They dressed like Robin Hood and His Merry Men, wrote excellent songs, and were one of the first bands to feature two drummers. Their singer went on the play the dad in a lot of mediocre popular movies, most recently The Craft.


4. Milk 'N' Cookies MILK 'N' COOKIES (RPM Records, UK)
-- When guitarist Ian North was kicked out of Sparks after 'Kimono My House,' he formed this quite clever post-glam, early punk concept band whose twenty-something members dressed, wrote, played, and sang like whiny, effeminate, horny twelve year old boys.


5. David Ackles AMERICAN GOTHIC (Collector's Choice)
-- 1972. Very ambitious singer/songwriter who wedded the brilliantly sentimental melodies and orchestrations of composer Aaron Copland with the jagged, irony drenched song structures of Brecht/Weill. This is his masterpiece.


6. Lewis Furey LEWIS FUREY (Korashana, Japanese import)
-- Flamboyant and bitter Glam rock figure who wrote and sang about male prostitutes, drug addicts, and S&M among other things. He performed naked except for a diaper and sucked a pacifier. A minor talent, but just as curious as, say, Jobriath.


7. Andy Pratt ANDY PRATT (Sony International)
-- A tormented, eccentric songwriter whose first album (this one) is a lost treasure. By the time he recorded his second album, he'd gone hardcore Christian and overcome his demons. He later renounced music altogether. Side one of this 1973 album is especially genius.


8. Dwight Twilley Band SINCERELY (Dcc Compact Classics)
-- It's bewildering to me that Tulsa-based, mid-70s pop-rock visionary Twilley hasn't been rediscovered in a big way. His songs blend adventurous, catchy melodies, dense and odd arrangements, and very seductive, erotic vocals and rhythms. His work was completely original at the time and has never been replicated that I'm aware of. Very killer stuff.

Tristan Egolf

I'm shocked to learn that the writer Tristan Egolf committed suicide last week. He was 34. Do you know his work? If you live in the US, you might not since his novels have been weirdly neglected here. He wrote big, rowdy, complicated novels that fit roughly under the post-meta-fiction tag. I think he's up there with the very best so-called p-m-f guys like Foster-Wallace and Vollman. He was one of the most interesting younger English language fiction writers in my opinion. If you haven't read him, I'd start with 'Lord of the Barnyard' (Grove/Atlantic). His death is a serious loss. Really sad. R.I.P.

I think I'm ill-suited to blogging. I'm shy, not particularly talkative, and I don't really like talking about myself. I'm doing this because the guys who run my official website (www.denniscooper.net) asked vistors what they'd most want to be added to the site, and they chose a blog by me. (Note to voters: I wish you'd picked a message board. You're the mysterious ones, not me.) This will be a real challenge, but I like challenges. Especially having to do with structure and form. Until I figure out my version of blogging, this will probably be kind of a hodgepodge. I urge those of you who can and want to post responses to do so. I think bouncing would be helpful. In any case, I'll post as often as I can, and we'll see what happens. More soon.