Customer Reviews

Port of Saints

5 star:		(2)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

A comparatively obscure work that came after Exterminator! and before Cities Of The Red Night. Very poetic and beautiful to read, continuing the ideas and characters of The Wild Boys from a different viewpoint: revolution through magic, body transference, lust and violence, and in this case sentimental reminiscence of an idealised boyhood. Although not as explosive as some of his more lauded works, this is nonetheless a treasure that has haunted me like a lost love.

This book is often passed over and has little that can't be experienced in other must-reads by Burroughs like the two early narratives, Naked Lunch, and the cut-up trilogy. But what it does contain is possibly "real" autobiographical insight into Burroughs' childhood. It was written at an important phase in Burroughs' life--just as he was preparing to return to the US of A from his self-inflicted exile in Tunisia. What is surprising about this book is that it is his only work primarily situated in childhood episodes. Are these his own early experiences with sexuality? Difficult to decipher. Also shocking (to a Burroughs' reader) is his attempt to direct his cut-up random method into a more apprehendable narrative. Also, it largely occurs in St. Louis and his early boyhood homes in America... with periodic flights to an "interzone." This review is for a reader of Burroughs, and as I have said there isn't much new here nor is it his best writing, but each of the facets I mentioned about should compel an avid fan to read this strangely personal and insightful look into a man in transition and upheavel who normally and so easily eludes interpretation and any sense of emotion. Try it.

I completely disagree with the review "Rarely Read But Important For Any Burrough's Fan, June 17, 1998"

He starts off, correctly, but misses the point. By alternating the "dream" or interzone sequences, he is letting out his early childhood- dreams and experiences. Having read ALL of his books, and most of the biographies- as well as seeing him read before he passed away- I think this is one of the missed gems, and should be more recognized for what it is- simply another brilliant book by WSB. (1914-1997) The mere fact that he didn't want to be a writer, and Kerouac and Ginsberg had to type all his early manuscripts for him- speaks for itself. It's incredible. If he hadn't picked up a pen,there would be a great loss in literature. As Norman Mailer correctly pointed out, "He is the only writer alive, conceivably possessed by genius..."

Perfectly readable for any Burroughs fan, but far from his best work. The main problem with "Port of Saints" is that it rehashes themes already covered elsewhere (in "The Wild Boys") and introduces themes that Burroughs later explored more effectively (in the stunning "Cities of the Red Night", which I feel is his finest novel). To be honest, I believe the author exhausted all the possibilities of the wild boy concept in a single volume but, even when "Port of Saints" begins to feel redundant, it's still packed with the kind of sad, ghostly imagery that only William Burroughs could conjure: "Somewhere a long time ago the summer ended. Old pulp magazines on the white steps...Remember who the Stranger was breathing the writer's self-knowledge and God guilt?...Long long how long in the lost town heard he was a caddy years later."
If you've read most of Burroughs's other books, "Port of Saints" will hardly bowl you over--but it won't disappoint his fans, either. It's a little like reading one of Raymond Chandler's lesser works, such as "Playback": it won't change your life, but you'll enjoy it. There's no bad Chandler and there's really no bad Burroughs.

if you are new to burroughs i dont recommend you start with this one, but if you are a veteran burroughs reader then you are definitely going to want to read this one, it is one of my favorites. Offers some of the cutups but they are less confusing then the ones in some of the other books. It is a short quaint little piece that flows well together with its abstractions and all that good stuff burroughs loves to throw in his books. parts are funny parts are sad, overall a great book.