For five fevered days and nights,the
streets of Ukelore had reflected,in a
hundred puddling eyes,the shapes of sackcloth reeling
in morbid genuflexion,like the fast shadows of
bats and birds,as the Ukelites petitioned
their God for mercy. The Ukelite women found,it seemed,in
times of death or high catastrophe such as
this,an irresistible vehicle for dramatic
expression.
There in the night,hidden beneath veils of
rain,they had wailed and weltered in
the mud,punishing themselves with frightening
abandon in an orgy of self-abuse. Shoeless,their sackcloth robes torn and sodden,
each wearing over her face a black veil-
as often as not discarded in the throes
of penance-the Ukelite women tore at
their hair,beat their breasts with stones,
crawled through the streets on bleeding knees
and purged their bodies with nettle wands
disinfectants and irritants. Into the early hours of the morning
they had performed their weird piacular rites,each
in delirious potation with her own pain,
each a single hump of convulsions unto herself
and each in a self-effacement as determined as
the tempest,inflicting brutal rebuke upon her
own person,for these were the dues
exacted by a collective shame. But the downpour did not abate,despite
every morbid bid for atonement.
The air hung heavy,reboant with spent oblations
and worming acts of contrition,all tossed
back by the rumbling nimbus,like undersized fish.
And all the time the rain still fell,
spreading puddles into each other to form
pools SO dark-even in the half-light of
the new day-that they looked like pockets
of ink,and every so often the eye
would be deceived by a discarded veil lying
lost upon the ground like a pool. Sacred words from ATASTA . (below right)
The Shadow of The Cross... "The stink of human sin
is MORE than ah can bear."
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AND THE ASS SAW THE ANGEL
A Short critique by a Dutch Disciple
The least one can say,at
any rate,is that Nick Cave
is a " prolific " man in a number
of different genres.
Furthermore,it is important to note
that the omnipresent red thread running
through all his work...
is THE BIBLE...
The Old Testament MUST be one
of Nick Cave's favourite works.
In any event,as I ploughed
through the novel ATASTA,with my
( admittedly concise ) OED within arm's length,
I became more and more perplexed
about just what it was
that I was reading.
Shrouded in the same beautiful,baroque
vocabulary as his songs,an almost
sick-making story unfurled before my eyes.....
Detailed descriptions of extreme violence are
NOT shunned in the book;to the
contrary,blood-spattered murders and atrocious rapes
form a considerable part of the action.
Further pivotal elements of the novel
turned out to be a devastating rainfall.
This rain provides Cave with a to-be-grabbed
with-both-hands opportunity to draw us
to all sorts of soggy muck,FILTH and MUD.
An ever growing collection of scabs and
other human " clippings ",alcoholic overflow.
Corpses and carcasses pile high(appropriately) accompanied
by hoards of gnats,a poignant loneliness of
the mute main character Euchrid.
Running through this maelstrom is Cave's preoccupation
with O.T. scripture.
There are so many references to
and similaraties with The Bible (O.T.)
that ATASTA might even be seen as a
profane version of the original.
Of course all this shouldn't be too
surprising to someone ( if only faintly )
familiar with Cave's music,but somehow
the novel seems MORE shocking than his songs.
Perhaps merely because it is SO elaborate,
ingenious and poetic in all it's hideousness.
Still I found ATASTA undeniably fascinating
not(only)because of everything mentioned above,
but because ATASTA is bustling with
BRILLIANT ideas,beautiful descriptions and
unexpected turns of the plot.
To give one example of a seemingly
innocent sentence that struck me as sharp:
at one point the main character remarks in
a scene slightly similar to THE RAPE of THE LOCK.....
" The LOCK is the KEY "....
End:
This article was written by a Dutch pal
of mine from a NICK DRAKE Forum
What makes this critique AMAZING is the fact
that English is not her first language!!!
The lady goes by the name of " 3hrs."
Bless You Three XXOO
You are Tops!!!:o ;)
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SWAMPLAND !!
Quixanne,ah'm in it's grip
Quixanne,ah'm in it's grip
Sinken in the mud!
Patron-saint of the Bog
They cum with boots of blud
With pitchfawk and with club
Chantin' out mah name
Got doggies strainin' onna chain
Lucy,ah'll love ya till the end!!
They'll hunt me like a dog
Down in Sw-a-a-a-amp Land!!!!
So cum mah executioners!!Cum bounty hunters!!
Cum mah county killers-for ah cannot run no more
Ah cannot run no more,
Ah cannot run no more
No ah can't!!
Lucy,ya caught ya swing and burn
Down in Sw-a-a-a-amp Land!!!
The trees are veiled in fog
The trees are veiled in fog
Like so many jilted brides
Now they're all breakin' down and cry
Cryin' tears upon mah face
Cryin' tears upon mah face
And they smell of gasoline
a-a-a-a-ah scr-e-e-e-e-a-m
Lucy,ya made a sinner outta me
Now ah'm burnin' like a saint
Down in Sw-a-a-a-amp Land!!!
So cum mah executioners!!Cum mah bounty huntahs!!!!
Cum mah county killers-ya know ah cannot run no more
No ah CANNOT run no more....
Lyrics by Nick Cave
from "Mutiny e.p." |
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" A DEAD SONG "
This is TRUE!!
Mister nothing said forever said
I can sing
HIT IT ! Make it a DEAD one
With words like
Blood,Soldier,Mother
O.K. O.K.
I want to sleep before the end
Which is impolite
HIT IT ! Make it a DEAD one
If nothing crops up
I'll give you a ring
You can sing the end
O.K. O.K.
Then ah could get
All the little animals out of mah room
HIT IT ! With a broom
O.K. O.K.
Put them in a big white sack
NO visitors came
HIT IT !
WITH WORDS LIKE....
Thou shalt not
The End. |
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The STINK of human sin is more
than ah can BEAR !!! |
" THE MARTYRDOM OF THE PROPHET "
By Gaston Georges had hung on the
south wall of the Ukelite Tabernacle since
the year 1935,when the respected academic
portrait painter had taken up residence in
the booming vale,having been struck struck by
the " utter uncomplicity and tireless dedication "
of the Ukelites to the memory of
their "prophet." |
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Ah listened to the electric light
but found no comfort there....
Ah laid the strip of lace from her
nightdress across mah naked chest and ah threaded
the lock of hair through the fingers
of mah right hand. And in time something did descend upon me.
But was it sleep?,A hex cast,perhaps?
A spell? A petit mal? A waking dream?
A sinister pall? An hallucination? A visitation?
A fragrant passing of an angel's wing?
A nothing?..... Words by Euchrid Euchrow
Ukelore Valley. |
KING INK guise (1982 BP)
: KING INK :
King Ink strolls into town
He sniffs around
King Ink kicks off his stink-boot
Sand and soot and dust and dirt and
He's much bigger than you think
King Ink
King Ink,wake up,get up
Wake up,up,up,up,up,up
A bug crawls up the wall
King Ink feels like a bug
And he hates his rotten shell
Cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha
King Ink,get up,go forth
Wake up-what's in that room?
wake up-what's in that house?
Express thyself,say something loudly
AAAAAAAAH! What's in that room?
Sand and soot and dust and dirt
King Ink feels like a bug
Swimming in a soup bowl
Oh! Yeah!..Oh yeah!!What a wonderful life
Fats Domino on the radio.....
Lyrics by Nick Cave |
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The Mute called #1. will walk on Tupelo....
I think that Nick looks like a young Elvis ( see below left )
and like the song says "The King will walk on TUPELO"
Have you ever REALLY listened to 'Tupelo' ? The song forever reminds me of that
hot dusty redneck town. Just like something from author
Harper Lee's " To Kill a Mocking Bird "
The line that speaks of "Tupelo's shame"
is especially poignant as I believe Nick
is talking about Jesse Garon Presley
aka Mute #1 that poor wretch..**
** = Jessie Garon was Elvis' still born "Twin"..
That heartbreaker line "Saturday gives what Sunday steals
And a child is born on his brother's heels "
It COMPLETELY churns me up hearing....
" Come Sunday morn the first-borns dead,
In a shoe box tied with a ribbon of red."
Gladys and Vernon Presley buried their dead infant
Mute #1. in a private spot in the local
cemetery with NO headstone or marker of ANY kind.
Gladys and Vernon went to their graves
with the secret of " Tupelo's shame."
Poor Elvis was left bereft ! and utterly tormented
throughout his life mostly because he
was unable to find the EXACT spot that
little J.G.P.Mute #1. rests in.
" So fucken cold was his dying." ***
Tupelo is a song with a VERY strong message.
*** A lot of Elvis' later mental health problems
were attributed to his OBSESSION with finding Jessie Garon.
Elvis had what could ONLY be described
as a DYSFUNCTIONAL relationship with his Momma.
Euchrid Presley's Momma was a drunken bitch too!
Happy to take all the caddys that Elvis could
throw her way,together with the mink coats
and much tasteless tat.
Couldn't you have showed poor #2 where his Brother #1 was hid?
Or would that have reminded you of carryin'
The " Burden of Tupelo "
" Oh Crow Gladys did you rock your lil one slow ??
You know The lil one "who's ghost WILL walk on TUPELO! "
We know HIS name....and 'twas Nummer TWO!!!
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The Captains fore-arm like buncht up rope........ |
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A big Thanx to L.A. Weekly for cartoon (above)
Nicholas Edward YOU ARE " A GOD!!! "
" A Diamond in a Sea of Paiste "
Saint Elvis- (pict. right) Brother
of
" Thee Martyr of Tupelo "
Jesse Garon Presley born Jan. 8th. 1935
Ascended to PirateHeavenJan.8th.1935
(May peace be upon HIM) |
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