[A]ll his life [William S. Burroughs] believed fervently in almost
anything except conventional religion: telepathy, demons, alien
abductions, and all manner of magic, including crystalball prophecy and
efficacious curses. For several years in the nineteen-sixties, he
enthusiastically espoused Scientology, in which he attained the lofty
rank of "Clear," before being excommunicated for questioning the
organization's Draconian discipline. And he furnished any place he lived
in for long with an "orgone accumulator" -- the metal-lined wooden booth
invented by the rogue psychoanalyst Wilhelm Reich for capturing and
imparting cosmic energy.
-- Peter Schjeldahl. "THE OUTLAW The extraordinary life of
William S. Burroughs" review of Call Me Burroughs: A Life, a
biography by Barry Miles. New Yorker, Feb. 3, 2014.
It was Ginsberg who hatched the title "Naked Lunch," by a lucky mistake,
having misread the phrase "naked lust" in a Burroughs manuscript.
-- Peter Schjeldahl. "THE OUTLAW The extraordinary life of
William S. Burroughs" review of Call Me Burroughs: A Life, a
biography by Barry Miles. New Yorker, Feb. 3, 2014.
"Virtually all of Burroughs's writing was done when he was high on
something," Miles writes. The drugs help account for the hollowness of
his voices, which jabber, joke, and rant like ghosts in a cave. He had
no voice of his own, but a fantastic ear and verbal recall. His prose is
a palimpsest of echoes...
-- Peter Schjeldahl. "THE OUTLAW The extraordinary life of
William S. Burroughs" review of Call Me Burroughs: A Life, a
biography by Barry Miles. New Yorker, Feb. 3, 2014.