Read Online The Western Lands by William S. Burroughs - Free Book Online
Authors: William S. Burroughs
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dog."
Chandler was profoundly shaken. Karl had always been known for his icy reserve.
"Where is he? We were close friends, you understand."
The new editor shrugged.
"Upstate somewhere, I believe." He leafed through some proofs on his desk. "Mr. Chandler . . . this review of W. S. Hall's latest book . . . you say categorically that it is a poor novel but you don't say why."
"But . . ." My God, didn't this punk know anything?
"But?" The young man raised a pencil-thin eyebrow inquiringly.
"Well . . . I understood . . ." Why, his orders had been crystal clear: trash it all the way.
"You understood?"
"I understood that an unfavorable review was indicated."
"Indicated? We are trying to maintain standards of impartial appraisal. After all, this is what criticism is all about. I suggest that you submit a rewrite for consideration. "
Short Eyes, known as See, and the House Dick, known as Prick, are unofficial operatives of Special Operations. Prick is a burly ex-policeman with a cop's florid face and a cop's mean, angry eyes. They are rarely used against enemy agents, but rather against civilian targets: writers, artists, filmmakers, intellectuals, inventors and researchers who are considered a danger to Big Picture.
Big Picture involves escape from the planet by a chosen few. The jumping-off place is Wellington, New Zealand. After that, an extermination program will be activated. Needless to say, Big Picture is a highly sensitive project. Even to suspect the existence of Big Picture is unwholesome. As the poet says: "After such knowledge, what forgiveness?"
Both operatives are trained in unarmed defense in the rather unlikely contingency of counterattack. Usually the target is too overwhelmed to consider immediate physical retaliation. And the attack occurs when the target is at his most vulnerable. The operatives have an unerring instinct for choosing the right time.
See is a more intricate artifact than Prick, an experiment in the creation of artificial character, computer-made for the target. He is the diametric opposite of the target in every way. In appearance he is completely undistinguished: not handsome, not ugly, not tall, not short, dark hair, gray eyes, thick ankles, and equipped with a dumpy, doughy, stupid wife.
The target has attended a literary conference in Harrowgate. It was a disaster. Fear seemed to blanket the hotel, the stunted garden behind the hotel, the conference hall. Holding the microphone, he found his hand shaking.
The first train back to London is jammed, and the writer takes a first-class seat. Every seat in his compartment is taken. Sitting opposite him is a youngish man, reading Officers and Gentlemen . As the train pulls into Victoria Station, the man looks at him, eyes contracted in spitting hate like a poison toad. The writer drops his box of matches. Later he glimpses the same man at the head of a long taxi line. The hate and loathing in See's eyes is designed to key in all the worst moments of the target.
Prick is drinking heavily and putting on weight. Big Picture is moving into its final phase as they take over presidents, prime ministers, cabinet members and intelligence agencies. The few dissenting voices are no longer considered important. Prick finds his services less and less required. He is in fact a source of potential embarrassment to the department. Twice they have bailed him out of jail for assault and disorderly conduct charges.
"Next time you're on your own."
Feeling in need of a quick drink, he stops into a pub at World's End. There are two men halfway down the bar and a pub bulldog curled on the floor behind them. The bartender is wiping the bar. Prick is about to call the bartender and give his order, when the dog looks at him and growls. Its lips curl back from yellow fangs and the hair on its back stands up.
"What's wrong with your dog?"
"Nothing." The bartender goes on mopping his bar. "He just don't like those kind of noises."
"What noises?"
"The noises
Chandler was profoundly shaken. Karl had always been known for his icy reserve.
"Where is he? We were close friends, you understand."
The new editor shrugged.
"Upstate somewhere, I believe." He leafed through some proofs on his desk. "Mr. Chandler . . . this review of W. S. Hall's latest book . . . you say categorically that it is a poor novel but you don't say why."
"But . . ." My God, didn't this punk know anything?
"But?" The young man raised a pencil-thin eyebrow inquiringly.
"Well . . . I understood . . ." Why, his orders had been crystal clear: trash it all the way.
"You understood?"
"I understood that an unfavorable review was indicated."
"Indicated? We are trying to maintain standards of impartial appraisal. After all, this is what criticism is all about. I suggest that you submit a rewrite for consideration. "
Short Eyes, known as See, and the House Dick, known as Prick, are unofficial operatives of Special Operations. Prick is a burly ex-policeman with a cop's florid face and a cop's mean, angry eyes. They are rarely used against enemy agents, but rather against civilian targets: writers, artists, filmmakers, intellectuals, inventors and researchers who are considered a danger to Big Picture.
Big Picture involves escape from the planet by a chosen few. The jumping-off place is Wellington, New Zealand. After that, an extermination program will be activated. Needless to say, Big Picture is a highly sensitive project. Even to suspect the existence of Big Picture is unwholesome. As the poet says: "After such knowledge, what forgiveness?"
Both operatives are trained in unarmed defense in the rather unlikely contingency of counterattack. Usually the target is too overwhelmed to consider immediate physical retaliation. And the attack occurs when the target is at his most vulnerable. The operatives have an unerring instinct for choosing the right time.
See is a more intricate artifact than Prick, an experiment in the creation of artificial character, computer-made for the target. He is the diametric opposite of the target in every way. In appearance he is completely undistinguished: not handsome, not ugly, not tall, not short, dark hair, gray eyes, thick ankles, and equipped with a dumpy, doughy, stupid wife.
The target has attended a literary conference in Harrowgate. It was a disaster. Fear seemed to blanket the hotel, the stunted garden behind the hotel, the conference hall. Holding the microphone, he found his hand shaking.
The first train back to London is jammed, and the writer takes a first-class seat. Every seat in his compartment is taken. Sitting opposite him is a youngish man, reading Officers and Gentlemen . As the train pulls into Victoria Station, the man looks at him, eyes contracted in spitting hate like a poison toad. The writer drops his box of matches. Later he glimpses the same man at the head of a long taxi line. The hate and loathing in See's eyes is designed to key in all the worst moments of the target.
Prick is drinking heavily and putting on weight. Big Picture is moving into its final phase as they take over presidents, prime ministers, cabinet members and intelligence agencies. The few dissenting voices are no longer considered important. Prick finds his services less and less required. He is in fact a source of potential embarrassment to the department. Twice they have bailed him out of jail for assault and disorderly conduct charges.
"Next time you're on your own."
Feeling in need of a quick drink, he stops into a pub at World's End. There are two men halfway down the bar and a pub bulldog curled on the floor behind them. The bartender is wiping the bar. Prick is about to call the bartender and give his order, when the dog looks at him and growls. Its lips curl back from yellow fangs and the hair on its back stands up.
"What's wrong with your dog?"
"Nothing." The bartender goes on mopping his bar. "He just don't like those kind of noises."
"What noises?"
"The noises
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