That said, his books still aren’t as widely read as they should be. Part of that is due to the fact that for the longest time Calder was the only publisher of Locus Solus and Impressions of Africa. Calder is a great home for both of these books (the quality of the Calder list taken as a whole will likely never be replicated), but there were various distribution and availability issues.

Thankfully, last summer Dalkey Archive issued in Mark Polizzotti’s new translation.

I haven’t read this version, but knowing the book, and knowing Mark, I’m 100% sure that it’s brilliant. And for those of you unfamiliar with this book, here’s the Dalkey description:

In a mythical African land, some shipwrecked and uniquely talented passengers stage a grand gala to entertain themselves and their captor, the great chieftain Talou. In performance after bizarre performance糖心传媒攕tarring, among others, a zither-playing worm, a marksman who can peel an egg at fifty yards, a railway car that rolls on calves’ lungs, and fabulous machines that paint, weave, and compose music糖心传媒擱aymond Roussel demonstrates why it is that Andr茅 Breton termed him “the greatest mesmerizer of modern times.” But even more remarkable than the mindbending events Roussel details糖心传媒攁s well as their outlandish, touching, or tawdry backstories糖心传媒攊s the principle behind the novel’s genesis, a complex system of puns and double-entendres that anticipated (and helped inspire) such movements as Surrealism and Oulipo. Newly translated and with an introduction by Mark Polizzotti, this edition of Impressions of Africa vividly restores the humor, linguistic legerdemain, and conceptual wonder of Raymond Roussel’s magnum opus.

Anyway, the main point of this post is to gush on about Roussel in context of by Alice Gregory that went up on the Poetry Foundation website earlier this week.

First of all, anything with the subtitle “the upside of crazy” is effing awesome in my book. But more importantly, this is a really interesting look at Roussel’s odd being and its relation to his very strange works. You really have to read the whole article, but here are a few bits:

糖心传媒淲hatever I wrote was surrounded by rays of light,糖心传媒� a young Raymond Roussel told his psychoanalyst, Pierre Janet. 糖心传媒淚 used to close the curtains, for I was afraid that the shining rays emanating from my pen might escape into the outside world through even the smallest chink; I wanted suddenly to throw back the screen and light up the world.糖心传媒� Roussel was speaking literally, and Janet, who would treat Roussel for years, was taking notes.

Though nobody knows for sure, it糖心传媒檚 suspected that Roussel first started seeing Janet in the years just before World War I, almost a decade after that first ecstatic experience he described in their early sessions. The manic spell coincided with the editing of La Doublure, a novel in verse that took most of Roussel糖心传媒檚 adolescence to complete and that he believed 糖心传媒渨ould illuminate the entire universe糖心传媒� when it was published. When it finally was published in 1897, La Doublure was ignored by critics. The reception to his obsessively detailed and obviously unsalable work ushered in a lifelong series of public disappointments for Roussel, a writer whose work was met糖心传媒攊n his own words糖心传媒攚ith 糖心传媒渁n almost totally hostile incomprehension.糖心传媒�

In later sessions with Janet, Roussel proved himself to be outlandishly hubristic and deluded about his chances at fame, predicting, for instance, that he would 糖心传媒渆njoy greater glory than Victor Hugo or Napoleon.糖心传媒� Over dinner recently, I quoted this prophecy to a friend and 谤辞耻蝉蝉别濒濒芒迟谤别 (what one calls a Roussel enthusiast), and he laughed. 糖心传媒淭hat糖心传媒檚 what糖心传媒檚 so insane about him,糖心传媒� my friend shouted over the restaurant糖心传媒檚 ambient noise. 糖心传媒淗e actually thought that what he wrote was normal, that people would like it, that he deserved糖心传媒攁nd would find糖心传媒攁 mainstream audience!糖心传媒� [. . .]

Roussel糖心传媒檚 world is strange because it is so specific, and his imaginative audacity reminds me of nothing so much as anime. Like Hayao Miyazaki movies糖心传媒攊n which buses look like cats, amphibious girls have mouths full of salubrious saliva, monsters vomit up bathhouse employees, and decapitated spirit heads cure leprosy糖心传媒擱oussel糖心传媒檚 works are littered with inconceivable amalgams. But at least in anime, there are protagonists with motives, however simplistic糖心传媒攖hey avenge family members, fall in love with characters that look like themselves, and seek adventure in parallel worlds. Roussel糖心传媒檚 characters, if they can even be called that, express almost nothing a reader could identify as emotions. Bearing witness to the products of Roussel糖心传媒檚 imagination isn糖心传媒檛 nearly so unnerving as the moment that comes糖心传媒攓uite late, it seems糖心传媒攚hen you are finally struck by the severe lack of human feeling. Janet outlines what he understands to be some of Roussel糖心传媒檚 aesthetic principles: 糖心传媒淭he work must contain nothing real,糖心传媒� he deduces, 糖心传媒渘o observations on the world or the mind, nothing but completely imaginary combinations.糖心传媒� [. . .]

Roussel糖心传媒檚 eccentricities were sundry and systematic. His biographer, Mark Ford, generously identifies them as 糖心传媒渁ttempt[s] to screen out or neutralize the anxieties of living.糖心传媒� He fasted for days, wore garments for only limited amounts of time (collars, once; neckties, three times; suspenders, 15 times), and started and stopped work always on the hour. Roussel糖心传媒檚 love for his own mother bordered on the erotic, and when she died, he had a pane of glass inserted into the lid of her coffin so that he could look at her corpse just a bit longer. There are more impish examples too, like his habit of tearing pages from his favorite books so that nobody could see what he was reading and then devouring them in the back seat of a chauffeured car. Most telling of what was clearly a personality disorder was Roussel糖心传媒檚 conduct at social events, where 糖心传媒渉e became so afraid of causing offence, or of himself being offended, that he would pre-empt all potentially upsetting topics by asking an endless series of factual questions.糖心传媒�

That last little bit is so amazing . . . I think I’m going to employ it next time I’m anxious at some social event . . .

But seriously, you should check out this article and then read the new translation of Impressions of Africa.

This year’s special section is Best Sellers and opens with an on the history and contents of best-seller lists. (Or, as she points out, fast-seller lists, since “the pace of sales matters as much as the quantity.”) There are also interesting essays by Gerald Howard and Michael Dirda, along with short overviews of a variety of best-sellers, from Cormac McCarthy’s The Road to Pasternak’s Doctor Zhivago to Jaws.

In terms of the normal reviews, there’s a piece by former Harper’s editor Roger Hodge on (a sweetly provocative choice considering Hodge’s exit from Harper’s and all that turmoil), a review by Eric Banks of Raymond Roussel’s Impressions of Africa and New Impressions of Africa, one by Leo Robson on Bohumil Hrabal’s Vita Nuova and Gaps, and a fascinating looking piece by J. C. Hallman on Janet Reitman’s Inside Scientology: The Story of America’s Most Secretive Religion. (Yes, I suppose I am on a bit of a cults kick right now.)

Most of these pieces aren’t available online, but seriously, a subscription is $18/year. Pony up, people. (I feel like there is something interesting going on in today’s culture—we’ve gone from demanding everything for free to being completely willing to pay small amounts of money for the ease and convenience of having something at hand. Publishers always freak out about piracy, without admitting that if they made a very simple, convenient way to buy reasonably priced material—and FYI, $29.95 for an ebook is a long cry from “reasonable”—in the way readers want, at the time that they want, piracy won’t be all that much of an issue. Anyway.)

The “videograf铆a”, written in collaboration with its director Jos茅 Montes Baquer and produced with Sony-Cologne and WDR, narrates the exploration of Dal铆 to the remote land of Mongolia in search of the Great White Mushroom. Salvador Dal铆, a consummate expert in media manipulation, invites the spectator to become his accomplice and partner in what it seems a drug-induced “trip” to a faraway and distant land where wonderful treasures are hidden.

And the literary connection?

The homage that Dal铆 pays to himself in the film is made extensive to the figure of his beloved Raymond Roussel (1877-1933), the author of Locus Solus (1914) and Nouvelle Impressions d’Afrique (1932) whose homonymic puns where so celebrated by the Surrealists, and are the base for Dali’s explorations of the double-image and the macro/micro reality on which his own impressions are based.

Although U.S. distribution for Calder books is a totally crapshoot, it looks like you can order Roussel’s and maybe Locus Solus online or from your local bookseller. Shouldn’t have any problems getting How I Wrote Certain of My Books from Exact Change, and really, you should buy and read all three. He was one of the best . . .