I. E. / Ilium Express - novel by Al Razutis (Samoa, 1977) manuscript pages

I. E. / Ilium Express

by Al Razutis

First Draft: 1970, Vancouver
Final Draft: 1977, Tutuila Island, American Samoa

Al Razutis - American Samoa, Tutuila Island, 1977-click enlarge in separate window

Limited Special Edition published in September, 2024 by death of workers whilst building skyscrapers,
Lucy Wilkinson editor / publisher -- Sculptural pop-up prose poem novel designed, produced by Lucy Wilkinson
Original graphic art by Stefan Razutis 2022-2024

Ilium Express I.E. by Al Razutis - Publisher Purchase Page

INTRODUCTION

This sleepwalkers hallucinogenic dystopia of a place named 'Ilium' is based on my impressions and hallucinatory projections as an immigrant child walking down streets, playing in parks, observing humans turning into creatures and wildly imagining the rest in the Los Angeles of the 1950's. While this is not a biography it contains the imprints of one. (Al Razutis, 2021)

"Tell us what this book is about?"

It starts with HUNGER. A gnawing hunger that infects the mind with hallucinations. It reveals itself as a story, with the following clues to guide the way

Suggestive image from Petr Valek's, ‘Good night from the village’ 2024

"Does it have a story?"

In twenty-five words or less:
A starving delirious army deserter gets off the bus downtown Ilium and lives out the rest of his short life for the rest of the even shorter day.

"What is the genre of literature this belongs to?"

Think movie-set, movies, underground, to include foreign films, soap box oratory. With lots of transient characters called bit players or cameos.

"Fact or fiction?"

This is a horror story with invented language, recited from failing memory, full of impersonators, made-up characters, supposed events, a hallucination put in words, which we've just run out of.

All editions feature original art by Stefan Razutis

INTRODUCE THIS AGAIN

..... SUN PASSED APEX

and then the nightmare begins, downtown, Ilium, as if looking up from a manhole.

all words. no images then.

I had left the world of images behind, now permanently. I had run out of 16mm film for my camera which would grow moldy. I was in Samoa reliving my novel, rewriting it constantly, to finish it, to send it out. I thought I was robert louis stevenson not paul gauguin living in the jungle, with my girlfriend, and our new baby having born then and there in a place called "American Samoa", Tutuila Island, overlooking Pago Pago the deep cruise ship harbor in the distance. And my typewriter.

If it's in LA, it has to start as a movie! Easy to move between genres. Easily appropriated. Hell, I had grown up there! East Hollywood, my friends.

But I start downtown, in the hovel of people, dead, dying, scurrying about, and my point of view is utter desperation.

That's the way I begin.

What do I say? How do I say it?

With invented language and a grammatical free for all. Rosebloom's Delicatessen. Theater of cruel.

"In my novel 'I.E' I begin by describing the scene in a cinematic way (immersed in the opening shot), as finding oneself thrown into a space, a dream, a violent noisy dangerous lurking cityscape, and I describe a 'hunger' that will grow by the hour until that fateful moment in Elysian Park and the yellow duck that 'exploded'...will spell the doom.

I describe it by invoking a language that can can toss and turn. After all, I'm a 'starving deserter', having arrived in the megalopolis called 'Ilium' on the mid-day bus the 'Ilium Express'...

And what it is about all those 'pijons' that locals around here eat? Don't ask, don't tell.

What happens in Ilium stays in Ilium, the locals will, well?"

(SO LET'S HAVE A SAMPLE, LET'S SEE THE TEXT, A WORLD WITHOUT IMAGES, WORD WORLD, THAT'S MY BEST)

I. ROSEBLOOM’S DELICATESSEN

…12:01, SUN PASSED APEX in arid white-still sky, burning through strands of cloudstream, shedding heat upon the aimless uproar. Omega hands erect on clockface hover high above express bus exit marked, and hawkers cabbies scatter cross to streets.

Burdens move, fenced by drywhite flanks that stand shadowless in rising heat, and rise upon glare to shimmer in the emptiness of whitestunned space. Presence of dimension, barren in late summer eyes. Shouts from unfamiliar voice awakens the stench of anima dying, sweat rising, merchants hurrying, then tripping, into shops stuffed with fowl hanging and dripping beneath skeletal metal frames. Post mortem face contorts to familiarity of intersection, paranoia sublimated in ritual. A face smirks, another withdraws in apprehension, and another. Terrified bird crying out from the door-ridden warehouse, and plucked feathers stream from wire-fenced cage into sterilizing tank; colour flash into red-blue-orange, confusing eyes. Messages to whom abound and still mannequins in store shops beckon... newspapered suicides in small print advertising fashion faith, the mystique of protruding breasts armpits cologne polished finger arched eye crooked stance matted follicular construed and aesthetic form exorcising stubbed knees varicose vein chaffed upon smooth calves shaved wet gummed lip tongue whisper passion; and wiping a forehead…

More footsteps.

Childless parade following footsteps into crowd, bodies brushing rub elbow past; gutters lined with yesterday’s news for the morrow: ‘Mystery, the Great abominations of the earth, two shows daily!’ Dirt orange paper cups soaking remains and oiled residue. Glances. Busy glances occupying early afternoon minutes passing, betrayed by escape craving eyes, and remarks in isolation. Hinged doorways, corners passed. Coffee black fries and burgers crackling heat spewed grease stone. Stone glass buildings; redundant eyes looking through to sky and grimacing in anticipation. Fountains trickling moisture lined with empty people waiting. Pigeons scatter and regroup around traces of crumb, dirt swollen necks jerking counterpoint spasms. Benches blistering beneath wrinkled papers. An empty voice chants to the birds, casting crumbs and waiting.

Original MANUSCRIPT PAGES from 'I. E.' ('Ilium: Express')

Use ADOBE ACROBAT READER to view and read PDF files - with magnification;

JPEG file versions are not re-scalable, but available as image download of page.

'SKELETAL CONTENTS' - JPEG -- 140K - PDF File -- 123K

LET'S START AGAIN

and then the nightmare begins, downtown, Ilium, as if looking up from a manhole.

1.

PAGE ONE - '.....12:01, SUN PASSED APEX in arid white-still sky...' (Rosebloom's Delicatessen) - JPEG -- 77K - PDF File -- 209K

LAST DIGRESSIONS AND QUESTIONS?

Something slower? More mysterious?

Relax. This is only a simulation, drunk sown quiescence dribbling pewk.

Now take a left, stroll down "Dragon Street" (your chapter two),
a grim, dim place, without pijons, dragging paper dog, a bag for the pewk,
as two figures shuffle downward towards Davey Jones,
street end with entrance awe to afterlife,
pin the donkey with July Miss Gennie too!

Walk on which side? Oh no!
It always leads to the Mariner's Compensation Hall, Davey Jones Locker y'all!

II. DRAGON STREET

.....b’tween Ilium and suborb roost, fore stagnant Styx, Southdrown’s Row upon Dragon Street slept alonging walls in early blight. Drunksown quiescence once shuttered by deserpted streets, bursting to life’s sudden; late-hung lamps afaint in midlaid sun; wonders masked by stunned shades and carbored rags. Streetstruts, omniac eyes wrinkled to a’squint, parance upt and a cross, disvoiding heat. At strutting end stands St. John’s diving hall of ancient mansonry an’ pious glass. Umptily, sacked. Vacuous demands of spittin’ space within a grope of sole; asterisk of mending eye projaculated in twelve dry squirts upon the street, arrusts...
Bland of life, street glazes back at figures stumpting doorwise, eyes oblivious of ayes. From thirdfloor window, Clem flunk’n flops tho’ feebly leans, chently calls to sighlence, then aplops. Dribbling pewkto splutter n aftermutter. Auld Billy J., dog-legged a’limp, indignant, turnsabout and shows fist: “Baalabum! Baalabum!” And Joe Moesus sighs care to his paper dogg, arustling in ghusted windwands. "Esh! We’ll come an’ get yew Clem!" Midhung stars squint from fadehorned whitestill sky; birdfaced chillun corner alleyspace loudly ‘neath outstreched arms of crux’n twisted steel, then disafear. From bowerlanes afar, tracked tears blare-from richid box o’wurlitzer, lyrics tacked to mummery, and doorwise left. So sighs alaff to sailshred eyes, rummaging heaps of jukebarred missages. Cross to street, again and against shadderwalls, where glisten umpty bootles washed apoorman’s shore...
"Whully mess!" whispers Billy J., the peeing pius pragmatist.
"Sit!" plyes Moesus, in the guise of eldman’s Zion, a bleedin’ eye, cruck’d stance, fife numbered thumbs, whirl series card. He motions to the paperdogg with knotched cain. "Sho!"

PAGE TEN - '.....b'tween Ilium and suborb roost...' (Dragon Street) - JPEG -- 81K -- PDF File -- 222K

PAGE EIGHTEEN - 'Rowarow the boys all rearrive at Herman's rockin chair which creaks a bit.' -- JPEG -- 81K - PDF File -- 96K

4.

PAGE TWENTY TWO - '.....by happenschance, THE LIVING LEGEND OF MISS GENIE, RETOLD...' (St. John's Fraternal Reunion) - JPEG -- 100K - PDF File -- 105K

click to enlarge I.E. page twenty two St. John's steps, graphics by Stefan Razutis

PAGE THIRTY - '...as over Ilium, terrarium, mirage or TWO.' - JPEG -- 63K - PDF File -- 70K

5.

V. DEUS EX MACHINA

.....1:10 in aeternam, theatered and paranthetical crowd gathers for the consumption of campaign’s first DEUS EX machina, corner of 6th & Summer.
Commotion’s moment grows with strains of ‘Ho santa, ho santa, in excessive theo!’ harping from mobile horns of his master’s voice o’dominicus! shopkeepers abandon their wares and beggardly emerge from alley havens to seek out the source of ventillated fragrance. Bagmen, caught in a street trance, succumb and well before the afternoon’s results are given. Streamers cum banners proclaim, ‘VOTE FOR IKE’, while rubble pyres burn in distance, obscuring the device that’s upon.all.
"Look up! Way o’er there! Till kingdom’s cum!"
Ave! Marie! Looksee. Few children presently open eyes to what novely of white-clad figure, embroidered with ruffles and streaming ravenhair, floating from bitter sky. A crane of a shot! But tension builds in temporary swarms zigzagging ant-like for a closer view. Here! And merging to their liverance, while virginal day glowing buttons calling cards proclaim with bull-horn to assist, FER IKE! The sleight-o-hand unseen, White Virgin secretly unstraps unstrips her harness while a seam tears slight, and ENTERS this hastily arranged chaste set. Cue cards up, camera hyde! Applause, pre-taped, begins; the yuk machine’s all set; and ROCK OF AGES, propped upon paper-mache nest, amoans from hidden cornice, where...
(p> "ACTION!" voice thunders from unseen watchtower

PAGE FORTY FIVE - '.....1:10 in aeternam, theatered and paranthetical crowd gathers...' - JPEG -- 81K - PDF File -- 86K

click to enlarge I.E. page forty five Deus Ex Machina pop-up 2 image design by Al Razutis, drawing by Stefan Razutis

click to enlarge I.E. page forty five Deus Ex Machina pop-up 2 image design by Al Razutis, assembly by Lucy Wilkinson

6.

PAGE FIFTY-FIVE - 'Within his angle of the Westward sight...' (Quasimodo's Poem) - - JPEG -- 53K - PDF File -- 88K

PAGE FIFTY-SEVEN - '...now unhinged by all of this, begins to squawk' (Opera Erebus 'Libretto!') - JPEG -- 88K - PDF File -- 92K

PAGE SEVENTY SEVEN - 'Pagorsky, sitting numb, upon this day: nor breath nor eyes nor will have caused the lake a stir...' - JPEG -- 54K - PDF File -- 59K

PAGE SEVENTY EIGHT - 'yet when the deed was done and the behemoth egg was balanced to erupt...' - JPEG -- 60K - PDF File -- 105K

The looking-eye glass still mirage of mirrored miraculum lake is interrupted by...duck? A tardigrade upon water, real? Bringing surface to the fore. Or is it a decoy?
(The Duchamp cell of existentialist vandals was beknown for such dirt revealing howling laughing empty tricks.) Repose shaken repossessed.
No pijon this. Scratching its way from reedside over mirror, leaving behind a blackboard screech of a wake. Down at night, and quack at noon? Pagorsky pulls aside then peeks from shadow’s edge. Remembers gun in pocketfield. Duchamp be damned, a shooting gallery be this!

click to enlarge I.E. page eighty three Elysian Park duckypotamus shooting range image by Al Razutis, graphics by Stefan Razutis, assembly by Lucy Wilkinson

click to enlarge I.E. page eighty three Elysian Park duckypotamus shooting range detail by Al Razutis, graphics by Stefan Razutis, assembly by Lucy Wilkinson

PAGE EIGHTY-THREE - '...shivers shakes hysterical tears...dragging clouds on...' - JPEG -- 104K - PDF File -- 338K

PAGE EIGHTY FOUR - '...of this time-worn Medusan whoring sky...' - JPEG -- 45K - PDF File -- 139K

8.

PAGE EIGHTY FIVE - 'THE SONOFABITCH SHOT THE MAYOR TO BE!' (Walpurgisnacht)- JPEG -- 65K - PDF File -- 70K

PAGE EIGHTY SIX - '"Ah, here's the Doc," sighs Murphy..."Sink or swim?" Hopkins matter-of-factly asks.' - JPEG -- 94K - PDF File -- 98K

-- poems from 'Ilium: Express' prose-poem read at Intermedia Poetry Readings 1969 - 70

CONCRETE POETRY IN VRML FROM 'ILIUM: EXPRESS'

VRML WORLD - 1997 - 'Fly (i)ng) f (i)s h ...' - HTML - with embeded VRML WORLD - small 70K file size

NOTE: VRML player (plug-in) required to view the contents - link provided.

Author (Razutis) reads from manuscript page 55 'QUASIMODO'S POEM'

90 sec. video clip on YouTube.

VRML 2.0 code and page from manuscript

LINKS to related content:

UNDERGROUND 'MS: The Beast'

[HOME PAGE] [FILMS AND VIDEOS] [3D VIDEO] [HOLOGRAPHY]