It was nice to go to bed and wake up with this picture in mind . This is the cover of Gasogramma , the only novel by Serge Gainsbourg . He was on top of the stack of books to read on my bedside table. I had made up his mind because is the smallest but also the sensuality of the image. It was also nice to read it. Dense in eighty pages, the handsome Serge makes you understand the true meaning of art visceral. It is the organic, dramatic and comic at the same time, a famous painter, known for a strange thing: he paints with his butt, that uses a bowel dysfunction to compose his paintings. It is ironic, perhaps self-deprecating, irreverent towards the art world, but at the same time deep, true, true dramatically. An artist, if that, and not a puppet in the hands of business, when something we must put up the guts, the negative and positive inside. From blood to semen in liquid seminal to shit (Artist), its hardships, its ailments. Then it is said that it comes out a sad and dark, but ... this is the case Gasogramma , where you laugh, reflect, we are excited and depressed. It seems incredible how many things I can narrate Gainsbourg eighty-seven pages ... in just
Coincidentally I discovered that today, March 2, 2011, are just two decades after the death of French singer born, lived and died in Paris. I thank my friend and who introduced me to this book and call you to go to his blog if you are interested in a semi-serious Literary Contest (read the post from 28/02/2011).
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