Writing Thoughts by Dead Writers, Henry Miller, Every Day We Slaughter Our Finest Impulses

The Frontiers of the boundless future,

” I am writing a manifesto and I want nothing, yet I say certain things, and I am against manifestoes as a matter of principles, as I am also against principles…

I write this manifesto to show that one may perform opposed actions together, in a single fresh respiration.

I am against action and for continual contradiction, for affirmation also, I am neither for nor against and I do not explain for I hate good sense….

There is a literature which does not reach the voracious mass. The work of creators, sprung from a real necessity on the part of the author, and for himself. Consciousness of a supreme egotism where the stars waste away…

Each page must explode, either with the profoundly serious and heavy, the whirlwind, the dizziness, the new, the eternal, with the overwhelming hoax, with an enthusiasm for principles or with the mode of typography. On the one had a staggering fleeing world, to the jingle bells of the infernal gamut, on the other hand: new beings…

One doesn’t become an artist overnight. First you have to be crushed, to have your conflicting points of view annihilated. You have to be wiped out as a human being in order to be born again an individual. You have to be carbonized and mineralized in order to work upwards from the last common denominator of the self. You have to get beyond pity in order to feel from the very roots of your being.”

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2 thoughts on “Writing Thoughts by Dead Writers, Henry Miller, Every Day We Slaughter Our Finest Impulses

  1. Tropic of Cancer turned my book world up-side-down. It was l965 and finally I would be able to read this book that had been banned in the United States. I thought What? What’s all this about? It’s words. No one is forcing you to turn these pages. Or buy this book. It’s Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye all over again. What narrow minds. What a magnificent writer. Virginia

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