One does not read “Naked Lunch” for the same reason one reads, lets say, “The Prince Of Tides.” It is not a beautiful, unfolding story that tugs at your heart strings. In fact, it is not a story at all, more like an ugly glimpse into the crevices of a temporarily deluded mind, one that is able to reach out from the throes of heroin abuse to create a poetic landscape of profound social commentary.
“Naked Lunch” is shocking, revolting, sickening, painfully funny and wildly entertaining. This holds true even today, with shows and films like “South Park” and “Pulp Fiction” passing for mainstream entertainment. What must it have been like when this book appeared on stands in the era of “Leave It To Beaver?”
To get an idea, take a look at the transcripts of the 1965 obscenity trial against it by the State Of Massachusetts. These transcripts, available in most subsequent printings as a ‘preface’ to the novel, provide a front row seat to the courtroom scene, where the great writers Norman Mailer and Allen Ginsberg, as witnesses representing the ‘literary community,’ rise up in support of their beleaguered colleague, author William S. Burroughs. Their arguments helped win the case and served the unintentional purpose of providing a ‘Cliff’s Notes’ like guide for future readers, an insight into the book’s significance, its bizarre scenes, their potential meanings and interpretations by other great literary minds.
“Naked Lunch” has had an impact of the world of music as well as that of literature. I first heard of it from guitarist Reeves Gabrels, a fellow instruction columnist for ‘Guitar For The Practicing Musician’ magazine in the early 90’s, who cited the book as inspiration for his compositions. Reeve’s then employer, a singer named David Bowie, is said to be a fan of the book as are many other iconic musicians. Perhaps the most famous musical reference to the book was created by two great verastile young musicians in the 70’s, Walter Becker and Donald Fagen, who molded rock, soul, jazz and poetry into a band named after a fictional device that appears in several chapters, a Japanese dildo known as the “Steely Dan.”
For years, “Naked Lunch” has been on my list of books to read but I kept putting it off, the result of hearing negative things about it such as “it’s just too weird,” It doesn’t make any sense,” “he’s just rambling about nothing.” I’m glad I chose to ignore the naysayers and listened to the artists whose work I admire.
However, as much as reading the book was a positive experience for me, I’m not writing to tell you should read it. You have to make your own decision whether to venture into this disturbing, at times confusing territory of art. It is not for everybody and you should not read this book if you are remotely squeamish, and especially if you are at all homophobic, as there are a a lot of scenes describing bodily functions and sex acts in cartoon like exaggerated detail. But if you can handle the shock factor and are ready for a deep exploration of the art of the English language, then you’ll be in for a richly rewarding literary experience.
Reading it, I was reminded of the early 20th century American author Thomas Wolfe, and imagined him born a few decades later, becoming a heroin addict in the 50’s, hanging with pushers, pimps, narc agents, crackpot doctors and other characters in the world of an urban junky, and applying his poetic imagery and literary skill to a stream of conscious account of first hand experiences. I often imagined the passages being read by a cool, husky voice, such as Tom Waites’ gritty urban street poetry in the title track of his album “Small Change” (Electra/Asylum Records 1976) or actor Johnny Depp reading aloud the words of Hunter Thompson in the documentary “Gonzo: The Life And Work Of Hunter S. Thompson” (2008).
I read “Naked Lunch” not realizing that this is its fiftieth anniversary and NPR was at that moment running story on the book and a previous interview with William S. Burroughs. I was surprised to find that this degenerate casualty of urban America was in fact an Ivy League educated heir to a fortune who ventured into the dangerous territory of being a street junky, wrote about it, then rose up from the depths as a respected writer who lived to the age of eighty three.
Even if you choose not to read the book, a decision I more than understand and respect, I think you might find the story behind it interesting: