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  • By mcdar3
    Oct 17, 2011
    A corncob, an envelope. Reading Tales From a French Envelope, a collection of outrageous poems and fiction by Catfish McDaris and Craig Scott with a stunning cover design by Laura Ostman, reminded me of devices in Sanctuary, an early novel by William Faulkner. The corncob was wielded by Popeye in place of his wobbly penis. The vaginal envelope (Faulkner’s metaphor) it jammed into belonged to Temple Drake, a virginal college girl of the ‘20s who got more than she bargained for and ended up in a whorehouse. To add to the French connection, Temple and her father finally took refuge in Paris. Faulkner considered his work a potboiler. No, he was just looking into the future of great writing—new forms, new words, new ideas. Literature needs them. You could say the same for Tales From a French Envelope… --the same rage, passion, frustration, reality, the idiom of today, the poetry pulp classic of tomorrow. No doubt Shakespeare was considered trashy when he began. The people loved him, the... More > critics not so much. If nothing else, Tales… shows the vast changes in sexual attitudes that have occurred since Faulkner’s time. Having often wondered what various couples I know looked like during real sex, I have to thank McDaris and Scott for detailing it for me, the real thing, so far from the manicured sexless exertions of commercial porn films—Isn’t sex one of the basic realities of life? So why not write about it as it actually exists. I want to smell it, taste it, feel it. There’s emotion here, the gift of high art: the supreme male effort, for instance, as outlined in Scott’s poem “She Has to Come”. Did you cum? Did you cum? The whip of the female: to realize it or to fake it, which? Either way, She seems to have the power. Or in McDaris’s insolent attitude, the fantasy only barely concealing the male longing to be dominated: “It Wasn’t My Day or Maybe it Was” excerpted here: It was payday, I was smoking a cigar, watching a cantaloupe moon Four black ladies… …put a gun in my ear & said get in whitey They took me to their crib and stripped me & themselves, out came whip cream & booty hole feathers and dildoes After the party, they took my money & clothes, tied me to a bed frame… Could there be a more tangible sense of sexual yearning than in Scott’s “Regret”: I fell asleep with a hand in your panties. I dream a squirrel is gnawing holes in my thighs. I wake up You’re gone and so is my good kidney. I’ll never get to Iceland now. For the “fun” of the exhilaration, take McDaris’s powerful “Husqvarana”, the kind of hilarious flash fiction he’s so good at. Cowboy Flaco invited me to his party. I took my bald lady. Her hair had been eaten by wild peacocks and partridges after they’d gotten into my marihoochie patch. Mrs. Clean asked me to shave her furburger; I used a machete. She got pissed when I sliced off a bit of meat and set fire to my cat. Her nipples begged to be mixed with cat chops and cunt meat for an unforgettable breakfast scramble… McDaris and Scott have unleashed poetic imagination to let it run wild in the bacchanalian weeds of Tales From a French Envelope… Patricia Hickerson Davis, CA< Less
  • By Octavio Chavez
    Sep 30, 2011
    After reading this killer book of wild hilarious thought provoking stories and poems, I will be ordering many copies for my family and friends. Both authors left me grinning, laughing, and wondering. I saw glimpses of Bukowski, Adrian C. Louis, Papa H., W. Somerset Maugham, Steinbeck, Henry Miller, and Todd Moore. Two quotataions come to mind: "All my life, has yearned for a thing I cannot name." Andre Breton "Impropriety is the soul of wit." Maugham This book literally gets down to f..king business like both barrels of a sawed off shotgun to the brain. Jump in with both feet, you won't be sorry.
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Product Details

First Edition
September 20, 2011
Hardcover (dust-jacket)
Interior Ink
Black & white
0.7 lbs.
Dimensions (inches)
6 wide x 9 tall
Product ID
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