Anyone interested to literature knows the name of Juan Asensio , the author of so demanding and controversial blog Stalker, dissecting the body of literature . This requirement in thinking and writing can be found in this book from a few hundred pages that the author began to write yet twelve years. Text atypical if any, The Love Song of Judas Iscariot is not a trial of Theology, or a novel, nor a confession, but a few all at once. Asensio revisits the story of Judas Iscariot, the traitor who sold Christ for almost nothing, in a style that could be described as "Baroque", as the metaphorical richness connects epithets and allusions. But what is a traitor? A person who, before betraying the other, betrayed the idea that she was of herself, which "has fallen from the height of his name" because it broke away from the herd to think for itself, even if mistakes . Claudel wrong: Judas is not sitting, he refused the poor and has betrayed, he has betrayed because he loved the Word without having the strength to honor him as he deserved. This is also a meditation on language that underlies the text where many voices speak: a successful writer, Judas and a mysterious "Writer of the night" . Like Judas, that "poor guy villain which looks like two water drops in Alfred Prufrock in TS Eliot , provocative and sensitive, like Judas, therefore, that this narrator was too afraid to love struggling against the verb in the solitude of his attic. Evil has no substance and the words have lost them in his service, prevents us from saying so. They lie, they are "not of this world, far from constituting the fabric of carnal one, I see a lot more like little creatures full of all evil claws whose sole activity is to each other devour. "The language talkative, she is a silent sound and this book is finally the magnificent " testimony of a man who has broken his own word, having broken the silence in which the world, and literature shaped since time immemorial his most noble fell. "
Bartleby: Why you be interested in this " Black Christ " what Judas?
Juan Asensio : Nothing that man can not touch myself abroad, to paraphrase a very old and beautiful sentence and then who can honestly claim that history, or rather, the stories of Judas as the character was quickly taken up by much of Christian Apocrypha, are not exciting? Evoke the dark abyss of what Judas is bound to be confronted with the abyss of light is Christ. So being, as was Judas to a degree that we can not imagine, at the juncture between Baudelaire's aspiration to greatness and beauty and the temptation to jump into the pool of mud, to growl with the swine. These two realities beyond itself mystical language. Therefore, if one believes, like me, powers of eminent counsel, be unafraid to face the bull horn that goes maybe you spit because it does not penetrate with impunity on the land dangerous. To write is to know precisely, with the greatest possible through gestures, the very last moment before the monsters do is raising in the air with a blow of his powerful header, defeat death, defying the powers that govern us. Additional difficulty in the case of Judas, nothing assures that a foul will be issued by an animal that crazy-looking little pain and engaging. In effect, if any encounter with the angel can be deadly, what will happen to one with Christ? Who writes without having constantly in mind, this requirement, this will be hurt by the book he wrote, is a joker. Literature or that journalists define this word, that is to say almost anything, is sadly become a joke since I could cite dozens of book titles that are absolutely worthless and even for the most successful frauds.
As you point from the foreword to your book, literature Judas is on an impressive body. What do you make more?
Absolutely nothing. Everything. Overwrites text, peppered with references reported or not, real or concocted, which is the
mirror those that I have read and yet is mine. This is the epitome of insignificance or claim, as desired. Superficially, I also wanted to take seriously Judas, a reversal of such a compilation tearful signed by Pierre-Emmanuel Dauzat who fights the guilt and pours a flood of tears by pretending to be the brother of Judas, which has nothing asked and that same story that he left in peace once and for all with these caressing showcase Procure, hanged himself to a tree branch. No way to escape the poor, unfortunately. Poor Judas, even disintegrated, would still be upset by some publicist strapped shocker came piously collect one or two microns in terms of who was the man who betrays his friend and master. Left to shock lasting Pierre-Emmanuel Dauzat and countless progressive brothers, Judas is not my neighbor, let alone my brother. I always laugh when I read a lot statements of authors or novelists who say, hand on heart, they tried to enter the skin of their creatures of fiction. Hogwash! I do not seek to rehabilitate the traitor badge, according to the ridiculous fashion that bedecked a castoff from the terrifying clown Gilles de Rais , to cite just one example of that past that we seek at all costs Bleaching, as if we were afraid of force, violence, evil which is unleashed, to understand that man can be a monster without the help of demonic Byronic suggestions. My Love Song therefore the right to be called so, what is not there. I mean I do not play in choosing this title I strongly believe that I owe to the immense TS Eliot : love freedom of the city that has felt like the most extreme, s' it borders on evil so that one can not disentangle from each other without the clarity of vision of a saint. I'm not a saint, so I wrote a book. Dauzat, he, like other blue-stockings who would do better to think before we write it as a day of feasting empty or bad luck intestinal must confuse love with candy or molasses, family business literature with laundry.
Judas like you in many ways. In the same way he betrayed Christ, it seems that you consider yourself a traitor to the literature, at least in language. You are indeed looking for a true word that seems impossible: "words are not of this world, far from constituting the fabric of carnal one, I see a lot more like little evil creatures all full claws whose sole activity is to devour. " Do you think the words prevent us from reaching the truth? What do you mean when you talk about treason as the only way to honor what we do not feel the force to meet otherwise?
Which statement anyway! Rather, I think all of us who are like Judas, who is a man, but a man whose proximity to the Word made man is incredible, unique in its proper relationship imaginable, regardless the talent of the writer who paints it. So Judas is he the greatest humanity, "Green primitiveness" to use a phrase of Kierkegaard , so it is the One and the one who so mysterious, because he made himself the vehicle unheard of evil which is one of the most brilliant mischief, is the opposite of the person, which is defined primarily by its openness to the Other. Judas is one of the most successful examples of hermetism demonic defined as the Kierkegaard, and his treason is perhaps the very last act, hell and returned, to beg that deliverance is not, in fact: he refused. Judas or the refusal to be loved, the refusal of love. I tried, after many other writers, to represent this tortured conscience, bifid, now even, legion, through a book that tries to place the treason in it even as Judas betrayed Christ, that is to say, for Christians the Word.
As your site Stalker, dissecting the body of literature , you get contemptuous of contemporary literature, calling "coloring book for toddlers" yet or "old brothel stunted girls like roots of belladonna ". Can you elaborate?
It you can not be escaped there is a good book for a thousand or ten thousand execrable. I, modestly, all I can, but I do not hesitate to denounce certain literary deceptions, as are, in my view, the works of Francis Meyronnes or Yannik Haenel, these Magi junk, these small Sars Sollersie of this beautiful utopia of letters governed by an enlightened monarch, where any of its cacographes, provided he participates in the orgiastic rites presided over personally by the best of our worst writers can declare almost any What, to the delight of critics as dismal, at random, Aude Lancelin .
Who is this narrator who resembles you so much, this "wicked wretch, forsaken by those who have had a time, the imprudence of love" this "poor guy sick" who writes "from the night" ?
Why, who do you want this narrator is, except Judas, who, you may have noticed, I "resembles in many respects" ? Yes but the problem is that in the brains of poor Traitor the voices are endless whistling and advise ...
(Interview originally published in The Magazine of Books, July / August 2010. Some corrections have been made)
Bartleby: Why you be interested in this " Black Christ " what Judas?
Juan Asensio : Nothing that man can not touch myself abroad, to paraphrase a very old and beautiful sentence and then who can honestly claim that history, or rather, the stories of Judas as the character was quickly taken up by much of Christian Apocrypha, are not exciting? Evoke the dark abyss of what Judas is bound to be confronted with the abyss of light is Christ. So being, as was Judas to a degree that we can not imagine, at the juncture between Baudelaire's aspiration to greatness and beauty and the temptation to jump into the pool of mud, to growl with the swine. These two realities beyond itself mystical language. Therefore, if one believes, like me, powers of eminent counsel, be unafraid to face the bull horn that goes maybe you spit because it does not penetrate with impunity on the land dangerous. To write is to know precisely, with the greatest possible through gestures, the very last moment before the monsters do is raising in the air with a blow of his powerful header, defeat death, defying the powers that govern us. Additional difficulty in the case of Judas, nothing assures that a foul will be issued by an animal that crazy-looking little pain and engaging. In effect, if any encounter with the angel can be deadly, what will happen to one with Christ? Who writes without having constantly in mind, this requirement, this will be hurt by the book he wrote, is a joker. Literature or that journalists define this word, that is to say almost anything, is sadly become a joke since I could cite dozens of book titles that are absolutely worthless and even for the most successful frauds.
As you point from the foreword to your book, literature Judas is on an impressive body. What do you make more?
Absolutely nothing. Everything. Overwrites text, peppered with references reported or not, real or concocted, which is the
mirror those that I have read and yet is mine. This is the epitome of insignificance or claim, as desired. Superficially, I also wanted to take seriously Judas, a reversal of such a compilation tearful signed by Pierre-Emmanuel Dauzat who fights the guilt and pours a flood of tears by pretending to be the brother of Judas, which has nothing asked and that same story that he left in peace once and for all with these caressing showcase Procure, hanged himself to a tree branch. No way to escape the poor, unfortunately. Poor Judas, even disintegrated, would still be upset by some publicist strapped shocker came piously collect one or two microns in terms of who was the man who betrays his friend and master. Left to shock lasting Pierre-Emmanuel Dauzat and countless progressive brothers, Judas is not my neighbor, let alone my brother. I always laugh when I read a lot statements of authors or novelists who say, hand on heart, they tried to enter the skin of their creatures of fiction. Hogwash! I do not seek to rehabilitate the traitor badge, according to the ridiculous fashion that bedecked a castoff from the terrifying clown Gilles de Rais , to cite just one example of that past that we seek at all costs Bleaching, as if we were afraid of force, violence, evil which is unleashed, to understand that man can be a monster without the help of demonic Byronic suggestions. My Love Song therefore the right to be called so, what is not there. I mean I do not play in choosing this title I strongly believe that I owe to the immense TS Eliot : love freedom of the city that has felt like the most extreme, s' it borders on evil so that one can not disentangle from each other without the clarity of vision of a saint. I'm not a saint, so I wrote a book. Dauzat, he, like other blue-stockings who would do better to think before we write it as a day of feasting empty or bad luck intestinal must confuse love with candy or molasses, family business literature with laundry. Judas like you in many ways. In the same way he betrayed Christ, it seems that you consider yourself a traitor to the literature, at least in language. You are indeed looking for a true word that seems impossible: "words are not of this world, far from constituting the fabric of carnal one, I see a lot more like little evil creatures all full claws whose sole activity is to devour. " Do you think the words prevent us from reaching the truth? What do you mean when you talk about treason as the only way to honor what we do not feel the force to meet otherwise?
Which statement anyway! Rather, I think all of us who are like Judas, who is a man, but a man whose proximity to the Word made man is incredible, unique in its proper relationship imaginable, regardless the talent of the writer who paints it. So Judas is he the greatest humanity, "Green primitiveness" to use a phrase of Kierkegaard , so it is the One and the one who so mysterious, because he made himself the vehicle unheard of evil which is one of the most brilliant mischief, is the opposite of the person, which is defined primarily by its openness to the Other. Judas is one of the most successful examples of hermetism demonic defined as the Kierkegaard, and his treason is perhaps the very last act, hell and returned, to beg that deliverance is not, in fact: he refused. Judas or the refusal to be loved, the refusal of love. I tried, after many other writers, to represent this tortured conscience, bifid, now even, legion, through a book that tries to place the treason in it even as Judas betrayed Christ, that is to say, for Christians the Word.
As your site Stalker, dissecting the body of literature , you get contemptuous of contemporary literature, calling "coloring book for toddlers" yet or "old brothel stunted girls like roots of belladonna ". Can you elaborate?
It you can not be escaped there is a good book for a thousand or ten thousand execrable. I, modestly, all I can, but I do not hesitate to denounce certain literary deceptions, as are, in my view, the works of Francis Meyronnes or Yannik Haenel, these Magi junk, these small Sars Sollersie of this beautiful utopia of letters governed by an enlightened monarch, where any of its cacographes, provided he participates in the orgiastic rites presided over personally by the best of our worst writers can declare almost any What, to the delight of critics as dismal, at random, Aude Lancelin .
Who is this narrator who resembles you so much, this "wicked wretch, forsaken by those who have had a time, the imprudence of love" this "poor guy sick" who writes "from the night" ?
Why, who do you want this narrator is, except Judas, who, you may have noticed, I "resembles in many respects" ? Yes but the problem is that in the brains of poor Traitor the voices are endless whistling and advise ...
(Interview originally published in The Magazine of Books, July / August 2010. Some corrections have been made)
Juan Asensio , The love song of Judas Iscariot . Deer. 16 euros.
Illustration: Wim Delvoye . (Personal photo)
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