The BURIED Book Club discussion
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Gil Orlovitz
thnks for the pic. "Much of it is self-indulgent." Yippee!!!! Where's my credit card? [but NOONENOONE outjoyces james. NOONE]
Enrique wrote: "I know, whenever I see a critic claim "self-indulgence" in an author, that's usually code for "BUY ME"."Same. Or at least to check out.
Gil is one of our original BURIED authors. His books exist almost not at all. Today I see on amazon for his second book Ice Never F "currently unavailable".BUT, his first novel, Milkbottle H, a copy of which I am happy to report sits on my shelf, is currently available at reasonable prices. Yes, it is true, I have not read him ; but to read him appears to me to be a kind of Joycean temptation. So, the reason for my popping in this morning is to inform us, one and all, that the paperback of Milkbottle H can be had via amazon for under US$10, which isn't too bad.
First, the legit-looking page :: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001...
And this page appears to be the correct book but displaying the incorrect pic :: http://www.amazon.com/Milkbottle-H-Gi...
Even better price at abe :: http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/Searc...
I'll dive into Milkbottle myself some time January-February, I would hope.
Next time, Ali, I only want good news. But there is some stuff in the public domain, but not the two novels ::"However, because the sons apparently knew nothing about copyright renewal, all Orlovitz’s work first published between 1945 and 1963 – which includes about four-fifths of his poems, all his important plays, and all his short fiction – is now in the public domain and they cannot prevent republication. There are some other authors and estates that have stories like this."
So, if anyone wants to do some serious (real) library work ...... I assume that what is not in the goodreads database was never issued as books (not that this db is reliable) and that those poems and stories reside in some obscure periodicals. The plays? No idea.
Hi all, Orlovitz has captured my interest so I did a little digging. Below are my findings. First is a selected bibliography, courtesy of WorldCat. It looks like much of Orlovitz's work was published by tiny presses, either as broadsides, chapbooks, or small-run books. (Here's an example of one for sale: The Diary of Dr. Eric Zeno).
The bibliography includes most if not all of his published books. WorldCat wouldn't let me export the entire list of his pubs in citation format, but that list can be viewed here. It includes single poems, most published in either Poetry or The American Poetry Review, which also published a special supplement on him in 1978. There are also audio recordings of his readings and a few anthologies that he was published in.
The second item is a review from The Saturday Review (1947) of his first book of poetry.
Bibliography:
Orlovitz, G. (1947). ...Concerning man. New York: The Banyan press.
Orlovitz, G., & Lett, P. (1952). Keep to your belly: Fourteen poems. New York: L. Brigante.
Orlovitz, G. (1952). Stefanie: A comedy in 8 scenes. New York: Gil Orlovitz.
Orlovitz, G. (1953). The diary of Dr. Eric Zeno. San Francisco: Inferno Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1957). The statement of Erika Keith and other stories, poems and a play. Berkeley, Calif: Miscellaneous Man.
Orlovitz, G. (1958). The diary of Alexander Patience. San Francisco, Calif: Inferno Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1958). The papers of Professor Bold. Eureka, Calif: Hearse Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1960). Selected poems. San Francisco: Inferno press editions.
Orlovitz, G. (1960). Something to tell mother: A story. London: American Letters Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1964). 5 sonnets. Lanham, Md: Goosetree Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1969). Couldn't say, might be love: Poems. London: Barrie & Rockliff the Cresset P.
Orlovitz, G. (1970). Ice never F: a novel. London: Calder & Boyars.
Orlovitz, G. (1972). More poems. Fredericton, N.B.: Fiddlehead Poetry Books.
Orlovitz, G. (1978). Some poems. Philadelphia: American Poetry review. [Gil Orlovitz ; a special APR supplement]
Orlovitz, G. (n.d.). Milkbottle H. N.Y., Dell. S.l: s.n.
Orlovitz, G. (n.d.). Papers of Gil Orlovitz.
Review:
An Anthropological Poet
CONCERNING MAN. By Gil Orlovitz. New York: The Banyan Press. 1947. 81 pp. $3. Reviewed by ALFRED KREYMBORG
Two young authors who are also printers have made their bow as publishers under the name. The Banyan Press, and have introduced the young Philadelphian Gil Orlovitz, a poet with an amazing talent for grappling with human and superhuman problems on a wildly rhetorical basis. The only hope or advice he offers at the close of his tumultuous pages is characteristic of the whole volume:
Come, humans, receive yourselves;
succumb to your mortality;
to tempt infinitude is to die before
your time. Be fecund with the
moment's disaster,
and you will find disaster a white-
haired seer.
Orlovitz, a student of religion and anthropology, has an original gift for the elegiac mood and never softens his energetic drive with illusion or sentiment. Harsh brasses and tympani lead the orchestral language and if there are strings and woodwinds they are scarcely heard. Even God and "God's female" are helpless before the onrush of destiny, and the Lord, "a madman drunken with Man," is forced to cry out against his creature:
Man, man—wail not
to me, for I am done with thy casting
me out
of thee, and bowing and weeping before
thy castaway.
Thou canst not escape me by spitting
me out of thee, making
me image, paying me with idolatry.
My power is not image,
my power is thee!
To thee do I kneel on the Altar of
Man. For thee
have I committed deicide!
This paradoxical challenge has an original air and speech. And while some readers may find an occasional metaphor overdrawn and some of the poet's inventions too odd for communication, they must admit that Orlovitz accepts life and death as they appear to him and that he never evades the responsibility of opening his body and mind to the deepest wound. Even in the following lyric, affliction is germane to all:
Each man the blindness he cannot
forget,
the mute in tongueless recall;
each man in silence dumbly inset
in stuporous madrigal.
Each man the stone
beyond his hammer,
the promenade of prone
under the prow of clamor.
Numb must he sing him his round:
without ear eternity's sound;
and eyeless become star-lit:
in perfect affliction the infinite.
The bibliography includes most if not all of his published books. WorldCat wouldn't let me export the entire list of his pubs in citation format, but that list can be viewed here. It includes single poems, most published in either Poetry or The American Poetry Review, which also published a special supplement on him in 1978. There are also audio recordings of his readings and a few anthologies that he was published in.
The second item is a review from The Saturday Review (1947) of his first book of poetry.
Bibliography:
Orlovitz, G. (1947). ...Concerning man. New York: The Banyan press.
Orlovitz, G., & Lett, P. (1952). Keep to your belly: Fourteen poems. New York: L. Brigante.
Orlovitz, G. (1952). Stefanie: A comedy in 8 scenes. New York: Gil Orlovitz.
Orlovitz, G. (1953). The diary of Dr. Eric Zeno. San Francisco: Inferno Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1957). The statement of Erika Keith and other stories, poems and a play. Berkeley, Calif: Miscellaneous Man.
Orlovitz, G. (1958). The diary of Alexander Patience. San Francisco, Calif: Inferno Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1958). The papers of Professor Bold. Eureka, Calif: Hearse Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1960). Selected poems. San Francisco: Inferno press editions.
Orlovitz, G. (1960). Something to tell mother: A story. London: American Letters Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1964). 5 sonnets. Lanham, Md: Goosetree Press.
Orlovitz, G. (1969). Couldn't say, might be love: Poems. London: Barrie & Rockliff the Cresset P.
Orlovitz, G. (1970). Ice never F: a novel. London: Calder & Boyars.
Orlovitz, G. (1972). More poems. Fredericton, N.B.: Fiddlehead Poetry Books.
Orlovitz, G. (1978). Some poems. Philadelphia: American Poetry review. [Gil Orlovitz ; a special APR supplement]
Orlovitz, G. (n.d.). Milkbottle H. N.Y., Dell. S.l: s.n.
Orlovitz, G. (n.d.). Papers of Gil Orlovitz.
Review:
An Anthropological Poet
CONCERNING MAN. By Gil Orlovitz. New York: The Banyan Press. 1947. 81 pp. $3. Reviewed by ALFRED KREYMBORG
Two young authors who are also printers have made their bow as publishers under the name. The Banyan Press, and have introduced the young Philadelphian Gil Orlovitz, a poet with an amazing talent for grappling with human and superhuman problems on a wildly rhetorical basis. The only hope or advice he offers at the close of his tumultuous pages is characteristic of the whole volume:
Come, humans, receive yourselves;
succumb to your mortality;
to tempt infinitude is to die before
your time. Be fecund with the
moment's disaster,
and you will find disaster a white-
haired seer.
Orlovitz, a student of religion and anthropology, has an original gift for the elegiac mood and never softens his energetic drive with illusion or sentiment. Harsh brasses and tympani lead the orchestral language and if there are strings and woodwinds they are scarcely heard. Even God and "God's female" are helpless before the onrush of destiny, and the Lord, "a madman drunken with Man," is forced to cry out against his creature:
Man, man—wail not
to me, for I am done with thy casting
me out
of thee, and bowing and weeping before
thy castaway.
Thou canst not escape me by spitting
me out of thee, making
me image, paying me with idolatry.
My power is not image,
my power is thee!
To thee do I kneel on the Altar of
Man. For thee
have I committed deicide!
This paradoxical challenge has an original air and speech. And while some readers may find an occasional metaphor overdrawn and some of the poet's inventions too odd for communication, they must admit that Orlovitz accepts life and death as they appear to him and that he never evades the responsibility of opening his body and mind to the deepest wound. Even in the following lyric, affliction is germane to all:
Each man the blindness he cannot
forget,
the mute in tongueless recall;
each man in silence dumbly inset
in stuporous madrigal.
Each man the stone
beyond his hammer,
the promenade of prone
under the prow of clamor.
Numb must he sing him his round:
without ear eternity's sound;
and eyeless become star-lit:
in perfect affliction the infinite.
Also just found this copy of the Hiram Poetry Review (1971), which includes one of Orlovitz's poems and an entertaining excerpt from a letter he wrote to the editor.
Here's the excerpt:
"just a few thoughts. What Im after is art beyond art, and it is
partly that thats killing me, in that there will be, are now, only a
few latterday monks to preserve such an art. What most dont
recognize is that we're entering another Middle Ages, in which the
gulf grows between the Pop and the truly Tragicomic, in all the
arts, as in the sciences. In any case, we must go beyond Freud and
Einstein, who were the great Levellers, the establishers of the inexorable
commonalities; in a sense, take the cue of Henry James, of
Dostoyevsky, of Darwin, who were the developers of dynamic evolution,
of the passing uniquenesses. Norman Mailer has caught a
whiff of this but betrays himself in seeking multiple experience,
which can only stultify, for it is the evolving imagination which is
the unique-which Bellow doesn't see at all since he's snared by
the sphere of Ideas pertinent to man's contemporary condition. Marx,
for all his genius as a social critic, misled himself to electing the
concept of Happiness, as the whole 18th century did. Both Happiness
and Love are willothewisps, the two treacly intertwined; there
has been more shit written about Love than any other human
emotion, when basically what it is is nothing more than a function
of loneliness, and one will even go schizophrenic to avoid the purely
hermetical; one does not love, one becomes transitorily unlonely.
How many give a damm about the late piano sonatas and quartets of
Beethoven, the last etchings of Goya; when was the last time we
heard Bartok's concerto for percussion and celeste, why is it not
stated over and over again-to establish the presence of transcendent
art-that neither the likes .of Ginsberg nor the author of Lord
Weary's Castle can ever touch Rilke's Duino Elegies?"
Here's the excerpt:
"just a few thoughts. What Im after is art beyond art, and it is
partly that thats killing me, in that there will be, are now, only a
few latterday monks to preserve such an art. What most dont
recognize is that we're entering another Middle Ages, in which the
gulf grows between the Pop and the truly Tragicomic, in all the
arts, as in the sciences. In any case, we must go beyond Freud and
Einstein, who were the great Levellers, the establishers of the inexorable
commonalities; in a sense, take the cue of Henry James, of
Dostoyevsky, of Darwin, who were the developers of dynamic evolution,
of the passing uniquenesses. Norman Mailer has caught a
whiff of this but betrays himself in seeking multiple experience,
which can only stultify, for it is the evolving imagination which is
the unique-which Bellow doesn't see at all since he's snared by
the sphere of Ideas pertinent to man's contemporary condition. Marx,
for all his genius as a social critic, misled himself to electing the
concept of Happiness, as the whole 18th century did. Both Happiness
and Love are willothewisps, the two treacly intertwined; there
has been more shit written about Love than any other human
emotion, when basically what it is is nothing more than a function
of loneliness, and one will even go schizophrenic to avoid the purely
hermetical; one does not love, one becomes transitorily unlonely.
How many give a damm about the late piano sonatas and quartets of
Beethoven, the last etchings of Goya; when was the last time we
heard Bartok's concerto for percussion and celeste, why is it not
stated over and over again-to establish the presence of transcendent
art-that neither the likes .of Ginsberg nor the author of Lord
Weary's Castle can ever touch Rilke's Duino Elegies?"
Thanks, Sean. Keep it coming. And esp. thnks for that letter-to-ed. That's what I'm talking about.
I've went ahead and ordered a bunch of his - I believe - now public domain stuff through inter-library transfer. I doubt I'll get many filled, but it's worth a shot, and I'll scan what I get for those that are interested.
I maxed out my requests, so I'll wait a month or so, and if I've gotten no bites I'll cancel and try for some of the others.
Trying to get:
1. Keep to your belly : fourteen poems
by Gil Orlovitz
2. Art of the sonnet.
by Gil Orlovitz
3. The diary of Dr. Eric Zeno
by Gil Orlovitz
4. ...Concerning man.
by Gil Orlovitz
5. The Award avant-garde reader
by Gil Orlovitz
6. The statement of Erika Keith and other stories, poems and a play
by Gil Orlovitz
7. Selected poems
by Gil Orlovitz
8. The diary of Alexander Patience
by Gil Orlovitz
9. The papers of Professor Bold
by Gil Orlovitz
I maxed out my requests, so I'll wait a month or so, and if I've gotten no bites I'll cancel and try for some of the others.
Trying to get:
1. Keep to your belly : fourteen poems
by Gil Orlovitz
2. Art of the sonnet.
by Gil Orlovitz
3. The diary of Dr. Eric Zeno
by Gil Orlovitz
4. ...Concerning man.
by Gil Orlovitz
5. The Award avant-garde reader
by Gil Orlovitz
6. The statement of Erika Keith and other stories, poems and a play
by Gil Orlovitz
7. Selected poems
by Gil Orlovitz
8. The diary of Alexander Patience
by Gil Orlovitz
9. The papers of Professor Bold
by Gil Orlovitz
More database mining yields the following excerpt about Ice Never F, his second novel of a proposed trilogy that began with Milkbottle H and was presumably never completed before his death in 1973.
Taken from a biographical essay by Jerome Klinkowitz (University of Northern Iowa):
"Ice Never F takes protagonist Lee Goldstein through marriage, career, and more family complications, most of which correspond vaguely to Orlovitz's own experiences. Events of history mix with events of the mind in an objectively contradictory but subjectively 'true' manner later made popular by Robert Coover in his story 'The Baby Sitter' and his novel The Public Burning. The foundation of the novel becomes the sense of the author's own personal associations, which are explored in their juxtapositions through language (as the most usable expression of imagination)."
Taken from a biographical essay by Jerome Klinkowitz (University of Northern Iowa):
"Ice Never F takes protagonist Lee Goldstein through marriage, career, and more family complications, most of which correspond vaguely to Orlovitz's own experiences. Events of history mix with events of the mind in an objectively contradictory but subjectively 'true' manner later made popular by Robert Coover in his story 'The Baby Sitter' and his novel The Public Burning. The foundation of the novel becomes the sense of the author's own personal associations, which are explored in their juxtapositions through language (as the most usable expression of imagination)."
Does anyone know how many stories Gil wrote (i.e. whether there are enough to make a whole collection?) Those imps at Verbivoracious Press are considering this as a possibility since it's all up for grabs.
Ali wrote: "Thanks for this! Up to now I could find not one single word anywhere on the internet concerning the content of INF (I'm not exaggerating), so it's nice to discover something, anything at all about it."Just ordered a copy of Milkbottle H for 9 quid off the old Amazonian. This kind of enthusiasm for the BURIED is contagious...
MJ, the essay I found listed 11 (presumably uncollected) stories published in various lit journals during the 1950s.
While Milkbottle H received at least a few reviews, as Ali notes there is very little to be found about Ice Never F. The usual book review databases haven't coughed up anything. From what I've read, though, despite subsequent U.S. reprints in both hardcover and paperback, Milkbottle H was a commercial failure, so perhaps the second novel was ignored by critics. Just a few years later when he died, Orlovitz was unemployed and living alone on welfare.
While Milkbottle H received at least a few reviews, as Ali notes there is very little to be found about Ice Never F. The usual book review databases haven't coughed up anything. From what I've read, though, despite subsequent U.S. reprints in both hardcover and paperback, Milkbottle H was a commercial failure, so perhaps the second novel was ignored by critics. Just a few years later when he died, Orlovitz was unemployed and living alone on welfare.
Just a few more notes for anyone planning on reading Gil's novels. I found this information in an annotated bibliography compiled by Guy Daniels in 1978 for American Poetry Review.
1. According to Daniels (who knew Gil), Ice Never F was written before Milkbottle H and Gil originally intended for it to appear earlier.
2. There was a manuscript for the final volume of the trilogy, referred to as 'WFFM', which Daniels believed to still be extant at the time. Daniels reports that Anais Nin had read this work and tried to get it published.
3. Various other manuscripts of unpublished stories and novels existed, some of which were in the custody of Calder & Boyars, Gil's British publishers.
(Apparently he also published a few soft-core porn novels.)
1. According to Daniels (who knew Gil), Ice Never F was written before Milkbottle H and Gil originally intended for it to appear earlier.
2. There was a manuscript for the final volume of the trilogy, referred to as 'WFFM', which Daniels believed to still be extant at the time. Daniels reports that Anais Nin had read this work and tried to get it published.
3. Various other manuscripts of unpublished stories and novels existed, some of which were in the custody of Calder & Boyars, Gil's British publishers.
(Apparently he also published a few soft-core porn novels.)
Gil was an early member of the BURIED Book Club. Milkbottle H is the kind of novel -- specifically -- it was intended to uncover. This is the reason for our existence, Fellow unEARTHers. Keep the stuff flowing, Sean.
And, Ronald, you know I'll want those scans too when you've got them rolled into one! Let us know.
Here is the Time Magazine review with paywall ::MILKBOTTLE H by Gil Orlovitz. 534 pages. Dell. $7.50.
Gil Orlovitz's first novel may well boast the longest bath scene in literary history. As early as page 8, Lee Emanuel starts undressing. But he proves far less interested in drawing water than in pouring streams of consciousness from the taps of James Joyce. It is not until page 122 that he actually enters the tub. By page 517, he has come to a decision: from now on, the shower for him. By then, it's too late. Orlovitz's waterlogged novel has gone down the drain—a victim...
http://content.time.com/time/magazine...
I'm doing some voluntary Library-izing of Gil's Milkbook. Below is the copy from my dustjacket.There is currently a US$5.00+shipping copy of the hd available on ebay ::
http://www.ebay.com/itm/MILKBOTTLE-H-...
And this :: "Keep to Your Belly by Gil Orlovitz, SIGNED, Paul Lett Drawings, 1952" for $50.00 (with pics)::
http://www.ebay.com/itm/Keep-to-Your-...
Milkbottle H is a tragicomedy of contemporary existence treated with compassion and bitter irony, in which all of mankind are conceived as being inextricably linked. Told with a heightened naturalism in which our thought and speech processes are reproduced with an amazing fidelity, the book may baffle and even infuriate, Yet it makes its presence felt, forcing us, almost as if against our will, to conclude we have here something very important to the heritage of modern literature.
There are two essential themes running concurrently through this monumental work, both related to the protagonist, Lee Emanuel. On the one hand we have his passion for the fifteen-year-old Rena Goldstein, and the subtle oppositions to this passion by both families. On the other hand we have the story of the death-in-progress of Lee's father, Levi Emanuel.
With Lee's second marriage, the strands of the parallel themes convulse, separate, re-form, and intertwine. In the relating of the several events and themes that spring from the fusion of the two central threads, time and characters seem to merge so that "all time is eternally present" and the people are alike, one unto the other. The physical scene is Philadelphia, with constant shuttling to New York and Los Angeles.
Praised and Damned by Critics Abroad
"A major work of fiction by any standards. It has a breadth and intricacy of vision, an audacity of t3echnique, and an unwearying energy of expression that put it in the very front rank. Milkbottle H is a major event in the history of the American imagination." --The Scotsman
"Not since Joyce has anyone used words with such magnanimous clarity.... This book is one of the great, if not the greatest, literary achievements of our time." --Cork Examiner
In parts, Milkbottle H is lucid, gripping and richly descriptive of human experience; in parts it resorts to what, read aloud, sounds like a series of agonised grunts and groans." --Irish Times
"Milkbottle H took Gil Orlovitz ten years to publish. After struggling with its gimmicks of style ... its elaborate streams of consciousness ... its absolute jungle and jumble of words, I've come to the conclusion that it would take me ten years to understand." --Oxford Mail
"Milkbottle H is a great book, an experimental novel-into-poem. For anyone interested in the widening possibilities of the modern novel, or in gaining insight into a tragicomic human experience, the reward is immense." -- London Tribune
Gil Orlovitz was born in Philadelphia and educated in its public schools before going on to be a floating scholar. Formerly a staff writer for Columbia Pictures in Hollywood, and a free-lance writer for television, Mr. Orlovitz is presently an editor for one of the paperback publishing houses in New York, where he now resides with his wife and three children. He is the author of many short stories, several plays (three of which have been produced off-Broadway), eight volumes of poetry, and is now working on his second novel.
[from the dustjacket]
'a floating scholar' - I like that.
Apparently the UK reviews were much better than the American ones. In the material I've read through so far, whenever positive criticism in the States is mentioned the writers always quote from one particular review (by Kevin Sullivan in Book World). Maybe that was the only good review the book received in the States.
Apparently the UK reviews were much better than the American ones. In the material I've read through so far, whenever positive criticism in the States is mentioned the writers always quote from one particular review (by Kevin Sullivan in Book World). Maybe that was the only good review the book received in the States.
Nathan "N.R." wrote: "I'm doing some voluntary Library-izing of Gil's Milkbook. Below is the copy from my dustjacket.There is currently a US$5.00+shipping copy of the hd available on ebay ::
http://www.ebay.com/itm..."
My copy arrived today and (despite being in pretty poor shape) looks very interesting - The New Statesman review quoted on the back calls it "spontaneous verbal combustion" - which sounds pretty good to me!
Further quotes from press as follows:
"Unquestionably a very important novel indeed" - Robert Nye - The Scotsman
"This books is one of the great, if not the greatest, literary achievments of our time" - Cork Examiner
I confess that a copy of Milkbottle H has sat accusingly on my shelves for longer than I can remember. Every few years I peer at it...but it's "another damn'd thick, square book" and still looks as daunting today as it did when I first bought it in a flush of youthful optimism. At least it helps keep the other books upright.
Peter wrote: "but it's "another damn'd thick, square book" and still looks as daunting today as it did when I first bought it"It is that. But if you've done a turn with Gaddis already or maybe had a little of McElroy, this you'll find enjoyable enough and less daunting the more pages.... tolle, lege!
Additional info on Gil's soft-core porn novels...
Written under the pen name Stacey Clubb:
The Middle Sex. New York: Beacon-Signal Books, 1963.
Left of Sex. New York: Universal Publishing and Distribution Corporation, 1964.
Source: Daniels, Guy. Notes Toward a Bibliography of Gil Orlovitz. The American Poetry Review. Vol. 7, No. 6 (Nov/Dec 1978), p. 31-32.
(Daniels knew of at least three other porn novels for which he had no record.)
Written under the pen name Stacey Clubb:
The Middle Sex. New York: Beacon-Signal Books, 1963.
Left of Sex. New York: Universal Publishing and Distribution Corporation, 1964.
Source: Daniels, Guy. Notes Toward a Bibliography of Gil Orlovitz. The American Poetry Review. Vol. 7, No. 6 (Nov/Dec 1978), p. 31-32.
(Daniels knew of at least three other porn novels for which he had no record.)
Orlovitz poems published in the Beloit Poetry Journal (links to pdf's) ::http://www.bpj.org/index/O.html#Orlov...
dustjacket text from Ice Never F is now in the book's description field.
Stacy Clubb (Orlovitz=porn) books available at abebooks::
http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/Searc...
A short essay on his poetry ::
http://mattferrara.diaryland.com/0302...
A poem ::
http://www.aprweb.org/poem/155
Biographical anecdote from a former agent. Gil was dirt=poor w/o $$$. One of his plays entitled "Stevie Guy" ::
http://books.google.com/books?id=pkBj...
Ali wrote: "Sean's review of Ice Never F has been reposted at his blog along with a biographical account synthesising the information left here:gil orlovitz: an astonishing faith in words
Orlovitz has been in..."
Thanks!
So I've been reading some Barry Malzberg genre-burial stuff lately. The man seems to have written about a book each month through the 70s (not an exaggeration), many of them highly idiosyncratic unreliable narrations, or writing process deconstructions (an especially notable experimental example is Beyond Apollo, but it's actually not buried as the others are). Anyway, late in the (much maligned in its two 1-star reviews) 1974 Guernica Night, we suddenly lapse out of the collapsing future, and into possibly direct authorial address wherein the narrator is visited (mirroring an earlier device) by his dead friend Gil Orlovitz, who advises him to use artifice, use art, use masks, the manipulation of masks behind which the truth may be given, because only the masks are universal, and only the deceits count..
They were friends, apparently, and at the time of this writing, Malberg seems to have been distraught over not having seen him in the last two years of his life. Unexpected connections.
(And then apparently Joyce Carol Oates wrote a review of this one for the New York Times in 1975, though I can't actually access it (please screen cap it for me if you can): http://query.nytimes.com/gst/abstract...)
deleted user wrote: "Orlovitz, G. (1957). The statement of Erika Keith and other stories, poems and a play. Berkeley, Calif: Miscellaneous Man. "So this has been newly made re-available @amazon (not in the gr db) ::
http://www.amazon.com/Statement-Erika...
pub'd by something called Literary Licensing, LLC, in early 2013. 66 pages.
Seems like they're (re)producing several of his things :: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=dp_byline...
(I suspect they're one of these junky OCR things?)
Eek, Literary Licensing LLC? They're not even trying to sound like they care a whit about the things they acquire (are these public domain now, I guess?) and print-on-demand...
Nate D wrote: "Eek, Literary Licensing LLC? They're not even trying to sound like they care a whit about the things they acquire (are these public domain now, I guess?) and print-on-demand..."All I know is two things. The gr db is cram'd full of these junkie photocopying companies and 2) Gil's sons apparently hate him and want all of his writings deeply BURIED. Some of his stuff may be public domain ; but I don't believe the novels are yet.
Yeah, it's a kind of plague of the information era. I accidentally bought a Marcel Schwob book this way once, and there were actually pages left unreadable by being bent in the photocopier, and the proofs never checked. So it's not just an aesthetic concern. On the other hand, Peter Owens has done some pseudo-P.O.D. reissues on their out of print back catalogue, and they're definitely nice facsimiles and preferable to the books being out of print. I just worry about about the signal-to-noise dropping in the world of printed-words. Don't even get me started on those wikipedia-data-dump books that seem to exist now on amazon, etc.
Posted a review of my experience with Milkbottle H here.(Bonus marks for my induction to the group in the comments).
I think it's unlikely I will read anymore Orlovitz for a while: I don't particularly enjoy poetry in general so I'm not going to buy any of his poetry books & Ice Never F is just far too high in price for myself (I'm sure price will become a issue with a lot of works in this group). Last, incredibly slim, hope is that I have a bookish friend backpacking across America right now and she visits a lot of thrift/second-hand book shops, so I've told her to buy me anything Orlovitz if she sees it.
I think it's unlikely I will read anymore Orlovitz for a while: I don't particularly enjoy poetry in general so I'm not going to buy any of his poetry books & Ice Never F is just far too high in price for myself (I'm sure price will become a issue with a lot of works in this group). Last, incredibly slim, hope is that I have a bookish friend backpacking across America right now and she visits a lot of thrift/second-hand book shops, so I've told her to buy me anything Orlovitz if she sees it.
Reuben wrote: "Posted a review of my experience with Milkbottle H here.(Bonus marks for my induction to the group in the comments)."Welcome to the dank world of humus, Reuben. And indeed you've got a doozy of a decomposed corpse on your hands. Since I saw your H review I've been feeling guilt about being so remiss about my copy of F on my shelf.
[good grief did F ever climb in price!]
Welcome aboard, Reuben. That's interesting that you've noticed a price increase in copies of Ice Never F, Nathan. I have a couple of Gil-related pages on my blog—a biographical essay and my Ice Never F review—and both have seen a marked uptick in hits coming from Google over the past 6 months or so. Also there was a recent referral from Gil's Wikipedia entry and I found that someone had added a link there to my essay. Perhaps some Wiki editor is a Gil fan? Not sure where else the renewed interest in Gil is coming from outside of here, but it's interesting to see.
I just wonder if the stress in his name is on the second syllable. I.e., would it be permissible, poetically, for me to shout, "Love it, or leave it, Orlovitz"?
Sean wrote: "That's interesting that you've noticed a price increase in copies of Ice Never F, Nathan. I have a couple of Gil-related pages on my blog—a biographical essay and my Ice N..."I don't recall exactly what I paid back about two-three years ago, but it was within reason ; not the US$475 it is today at amazon. But there are just so few copies in existence, that it wouldn't take too much for the astute dealer to price-spike the thing [there ar........ coming back with better info ; abebooks does in fact have a few copies available for reasonable money (given the situation), beginning at fifty bucks.
Zadignose wrote: "I just wonder if the stress in his name is on the second syllable. I.e., would it be permissible, poetically, for me to shout, "Love it, or leave it, Orlovitz"?"
I pronounce it like that yeah, "Or-loh-vitz". But I've heard the surname pronounced "Or-loh-vitch" in the past so I might be butchering the end.
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Thanks for the warm welcome!
I've seen Gil mentioned more than a few times in recent months on 4chan's literature board (now how's that for posterity!), and that's actually where I found him. Not sure if that's a cause or by-product of this renewed interest you speak of though.
Back when I bought Milkbottle H, the cheapest copies of Ice Never F were only about £20-25 and now they're £40-45; this in the space of 3~ months. Milkbottle H itself has jumped from starting at around £5-10 (I got it for £8) to £20~. Some buyers on sites like Abe and Amazon have algorithms which take into account relative popularity of search results and other prices of the book to then tweak their own prices accordingly which might be what's going on here. Like you said Nathan, it could just be on person spiking the price which has cause the others to go up.
I pronounce it like that yeah, "Or-loh-vitz". But I've heard the surname pronounced "Or-loh-vitch" in the past so I might be butchering the end.
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Thanks for the warm welcome!
I've seen Gil mentioned more than a few times in recent months on 4chan's literature board (now how's that for posterity!), and that's actually where I found him. Not sure if that's a cause or by-product of this renewed interest you speak of though.
Back when I bought Milkbottle H, the cheapest copies of Ice Never F were only about £20-25 and now they're £40-45; this in the space of 3~ months. Milkbottle H itself has jumped from starting at around £5-10 (I got it for £8) to £20~. Some buyers on sites like Abe and Amazon have algorithms which take into account relative popularity of search results and other prices of the book to then tweak their own prices accordingly which might be what's going on here. Like you said Nathan, it could just be on person spiking the price which has cause the others to go up.
4chan usually sneaks around on our shelves, I feel. I'm utterly bamboozled at this point as to why Gil isn't more popular amongst the members of our club.
I think it's a combination of scarcity of his novels on the used market and his idiosyncratic prose style, which tends toward the polarizing even among BBC members. His poetry is easier to find and, from what I've read of it, easier to dip into than his fiction, but fewer people around here are into poetry.
Hm, H's long been on my list of stylistically interesting-unique (and relatively long) books, ahead even of Federman, on account of the ready availability of his most popular works online, having a preference for physical copies whilst also being poor and picking my battles, his also riffing on a topic I feel myself over-full on for now, and doing so with formal experimentation which is entirely contrary to my aesthetic disposition. I'm taking this one slow on account of few such authors remaining whom I wouldn't be forced to seek out in the British Library, unavailable for purchase, and I really must say he's a boon.
I've been taking altogether an unforgivably long time in getting on with F. I'll be putting H onto that list I use every time I want to rant about all the good stuff getting shafted.
Gotta love the cover art on this copy of Milkbottle H in German translation:
And the Canadian pbk cover is equally spellbinding:
I just got a copy of Milkbottle H on eBay for the bargain price of $9.99 and was wondering if it was missing the first couple of pages. Orlovitz's prose is so unusual that it's hard to tell. My copy starts on page 5 with the words "dont think". If anybody has a copy they could check, I would greatly appreciate it.
Looking forward to some fresh thoughts on this masterpiece!
Rick wrote: "My copy starts on page 5 with the words "dont think". If anybody has a copy they could check, I would greatly appreciate it. "Just double checked. That's how it begins.
And my review for this is awful. Just ignore it. And I have no excuse why I've not gotten his Ice Never F read yet.
Thanks, Nathan "N.R." Not a bad review at all. I have less than 100 pages to go in Gravity's Rainbow and then I will crack Milkbottle H which, from what I've heard, will make Pynchon's prose read like Dick and Jane.
I frostily read fifty pages of Ice Never F. An oddly soulless book.
[Incidentally, I have a copy if anyone has been desperately seeking one. I'll send ya for cost of postage only].
MJ, I'd be very interested since you're willing to part with it, do you have a Paypal?
The BURIED Book Club
Books mentioned in this topic
Beyond Apollo (other topics)Guernica Night (other topics)
Ice Never F (other topics)
Milkbottle H (other topics)
Ice Never F (other topics)
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His two novels Ice Never F and Milkbottle H both sound like indispensable innovative canonical works which no one has everever heard of. He's also got a book of poetry, Couldn't Say, Might Be Love.
Also, he's got a piece in The Award Avant-Garde Reader along with: "Proclaim Present Time Over" - William Burroughs; "Passage de Milan" - Michel Butor; "The Fantom of Marseilles" - Jean Cocteau; "The Open House of Asmodeus the Tortoise" - Peter Jones; "Wakerobin" - Thomas McEvilley III; "Ravenna" - Antonio Pizzuto; "Capriccio Italiano" - Edoardo Sanguinetti; "Someone Just Like Me" - Sol Yurick. Can anyone speak to this list of names?
There is this: http://phillysound.blogspot.com/2006_... which has a selection of his poetry.