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And, while I'm up, helping someone else stay up and keep them working, I might as well kill time by addressing the issue of 'tired sixties tropes recycled to enjoy by proxy commercialism,' yes I will.
Quite simply: I don't buy it.
Moorcock lived through the sixties, in London and elsewhere, so he's got that in his favor, for the angle. The Jerry C. stories started publication in the sixties, so they weren't a nostalgia, emo-rebellion recovery attempt, but something of the time(s). Moorcock is pretty much about affect-with-little-effect open and casual rebellion/relaxation, music, music for the people, the people, and by his own admission, he didn't mean the sex and politics to distress people, as it was not him being dangerous, but just writing more or less his own atmosphere of the time. The Lemmy/Hawkwind/New Worlds thing was all very active and moving, innit? I mean, functional and happening.
I tend to find the last handful of years of my life, aside from a lack of needlegun related violence, to fall very much into the Cornelius miasma, but that might be southern California art-scene's fault more than a world (or even States) wide cultural phenomena. And the violence is mostly a sex-thrill, anyway, yes? Regardless of whatever Moorcock would claim, surely much of his audience found a sex-angle to the shootings, Frank's fucked up fetishization of the scarred secretary, or the absurd bit in one of the novels where Una slips out of the group rape after the guys sort of forget about her.
That's the core of my enjoyment of the Jerry C. stories, I guess, though I hadn't considered it before. It's like sidestepping a sort of gangrape, and just taking a nice nap/having a chat/sex in a secluded rain forest/garden/paradise that is also, right there.
Which sounds really pathetic, when put right out into words, doesn't it? Vicarious or remembered pastoral. Must I dress for mourning, write miserable poetic barbs, and talk wistfully about the good old days, now?
Except, of course, these are the good old days, just like yesterday, just as tomorrow will be. |
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