Edmund Yeo

My friend, author Quentin S Crisp, has an important announcement to make. Dear Readers, My name is Quentin, but please call me Quentin S. Crisp. I have had the privilege of being interviewed on this blog in the past, and now I would like to address you directly. For some time I have been in correspondence and creative collaboration with Justin Isis, guest writer on this blog. A significant overlap in our aesthetic concerns led us to found the dadaoist blogzine, Chômu . Catching the westering rays of that dying blog (which will perhaps rise again), and taking its name therefrom, a new celestial body has appeared in the publishing firmament: Chômu Press.

Justin Isis lacks abdominal definition For me, literature should be as exciting and energising as pop music. I am now 37 years of age, and of a generation for whom pop music was both a personal journey of discovery and something that has always been there. I suppose that for those younger than me, at least the 'has always been there' part of this description must hold, if not all of it. It has been a source of puzzlement to me, therefore, that the sensibility of pop music – all that is best about it in spontaneity, daring and role-play – somehow has not managed to permeate the world of literature. I don't mean this in any superficial sense, that authors should all start wearing shades and writing in American hipster slang (by golly!). No, literature need not relinquish any intellectual depth by learning from pop music – it can even gain some. Because, for me, interests in literature and pop music were equivalent and intertwined, when I first started having work pub

Justin Isis has interviewed Quentin S. Crisp before , and that interview is probably the best place to start for general information on Crisp's writing and clothing style. The purpose of the following interview is to whore out Shrike , Crisp's soon to be released novella from PS Publishing . Before reading this you should order Shrike , especially the jacketed hardcover version . Shrike is one of Quentin S. Crisp's most exciting works to date, and by 'exciting' I mean 'tenser than injecting Red Bull directly into your blood stream'. Brief responses to Crisp's statements are given in [ ] brackets.

Hello, Justin here. If you've been reading this blog for a long time, you're probably familiar with me. Anyway, I'm here to do a bit of self-promotion. First off: Quentin S. Crisp kindly whores out my writing. Next up, be sure to buy Postscripts #17 , which contains my story "The Plot." Or better yet, buy the hardcover version , which is signed by me. Okay, that's all. Wait, I forgot. Keep reading Chomu . Thank you.

I've talked about Quentin S. Crisp before - he's one of my favorite living writers. His 'demented fiction' is unrivalled for its poetic quality and general, um, dementedness, and I suspect it won't be long before he has a major mainstream breakthrough - not that there's anything particularly 'mainstream' about him, but his stories and novels are certainly of world-class quality. Anyway, I sat down with him recently to discuss his writing, his favorite films, pop music, the meaning of Mishima's death, the real reason why most people study Japanese, and other relevant topics. Suffice it to say that this is probably the most important thing I have yet posted to this site, and it certainly touches on more or less everything Swifty and I have put up here at some point. It is thus mandatory reading . Apart from that, it's probably the last substantial thing I'll post for a while, time constraints being what they are. Read on and learn more.