In the 1930’s, William S. Burroughs spent a good four years in our beautiful city of Boston.<\/p>\n
Bookforum<\/em>\u00a0recently reviewed<\/a> Barry Miles’ biography of the author, titled\u00a0Call Me Burroughs: A Life.\u00a0<\/em>Here is an extract:<\/p>\n William S. Burroughs lived the kind of life few contemporary American novelists seek to emulate. A roll call of his sins: He was a queer and a junkie before being either was hip; he was a deadbeat father and an absent son; he was a misogynist, a gun lover, and a drunk; he was a guru of junk science and crank religion; he haunted the most sinister dregs of Mexico City, Tangier, Paris, London, and New York; he was an avant-garde writer with little affection for plot and none at all for epiphany; he wore his Americanness like a colostomy bag, shameful but essential. When he died at age 83 in 1997, his last words were: “Be back in no time.” At least he wasn’t a liar.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n A worthy listen is Burroughs’ own spoken word album,\u00a0Call Me Burroughs<\/a>.\u00a0<\/em>It is available on Amazon<\/a>, and probably elsewhere in the deeper recesses of the web. Do check it out!<\/p>\n Also, a valuable film is David Cronenberg’s\u00a0Naked Lunch<\/em>, based on Burroughs’ novel of the same name. The trailer:<\/p>\n