Review
Padgett's translation of the long title story appeared in a large, formal edition in 1968 (with illustration by Jim Dine); now the rest of the shorter tales included in Apollinaire's 1916 collection also arrive in Padgett's strong translations. The book as a whole is neither the choicest of Apollinaire's short fiction (L'heresiarque et Cie is far superior) nor absolutely representative of the astounding leaps his prose could make (such as in the pornographic novels). Still, every paragraph here does at least suggest the vigorous Apollinarian mix of soft metaphors and outrageous cultural exaggeration. Moreover, like the title story, the shorter pieces are frequently grounded in autobiography. "Giovanni Moroni" recalls a Roman boyhood and a close maternal bond, both based on Apollinaire's own. "The Moon King," with its then-fantastic glimpses of inflatable furniture and love-making machines, presents Apollinaire in a ragged quest for a grid involving myth, progress, cosmopolitanism, and eroticism. And elsewhere there is vivid evidence of Apollinaire's linkage of the "miraculous" to personal optimism: in "The Deified Invalid," he sees himself as a one-eyed, one-legged, one-armed man who only knows eternity, having no perspective or balance with which to judge the temporal. Though almost everything here is slight and toy-like, any translation of Apollinaire's remarkable prose - especially considering its literary-historical influence - is welcome. (Kirkus Reviews)
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Product Description
Apollinaire was modernism's first champion, and after his early death in 1918, he became its first saint. Lying in a hospital bed in 1915, recovering from combat wounds suffered in World War I, Apollinaire assembled the fragments of a tragicomic, mock-epic, and occasionally obscene autobiography-a-clef: The Poet Assassinated. This novella recounts the life and death of Croniamantal, whose birth is "saluted" by the Eiffel Tower's "beautiful erection," who rises through the Parisian literary world to proclaim himself "the greatest of living poets," and who is then torn to pieces by a mob. A statue built "out of nothing, like poetry and glory," is constructed in his honor. This translation is by Matthew Josephson, an American editor who arrived in Paris just after the war and entered the circle of avant-garde artists and poets that had been galvanized by Apollinaire's life and death. Josephson was among the first to introduce these dadaists and surrealists to the U.S. via his archetypal small magazine, Broom, and among his most ambitious projects was this translation, published by Broom as a limited edition book in 1923 and never since reprinted.
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