‘In 1949, it was a cheap place to live, with a large foreign colony, fabulous whorehouses and restaurants, cockfights and bullfights, and every conceivable diversion. A single man could live well there for two dollars a day.’
William Burroughs on the joys of living in Mexico City.
Ordinarily I pursue an MCM Project visit in a fashion that is largely arbitrary. Coronary fuelled strides will take me;
North? South?
East? West?
Every whichaway? (preferred)
Unsystematic, unmethodical, random, unplanned, undirected, casual, indiscriminate, nonspecific, haphazard, stray, erratic, by chance, accidental.
All those apply – if you like.
A whim and a prayer (mangled, I know), follow a hunch, indulge an inkling.
Today I made a partial exception.
The Roma neighbourhood, adjoining the station, is a former stomping ground of various essential (giving rise) members of the Beat Generation. Old haunts of William Burroughs, Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg, among others, punctuate the area.
Today I set out to pay heed to some of those places. The erraticism of a regular visit inevitably interflowed.
Off the train, inside the station, re-creation.
Underground (so they call it the tube) of London to the right (the rite of metro riding). Jagged Jagger – apt.
Metro de Paris to the left.
Outside, a circus (the other kind).
The next question is a ‘what am I?’
Instrument – mystical, eclectic and electric, sting and bow family.
I am a …….?
An everyday shear of locks, gratis.
Phantasmal absence of a shoeshine man leaves a momentary crack in the ceaseless foundation of street side commerce.
And then I was there.
STOP I
In 1951 Burroughs accidentaly shot his wife Joan Vollmer in the head, causing her death, in a drunken game of William Tell in an apartment building that housed the Bounty Bar, a drinking den of the beats. Read more about her death and the subsequent events here. Later, in the introduction to his novel ‘Queer’ Burroughs wrote:
‘I am forced to the appalling conclusion that I would never have become a writer but for Joan’s death’
The building today is nondescript (map). There is a cantina ‘Krika’s’ where the Bounty once was.
I ambled on. The Mexican Presidential Election campaign is heating up. Grassroots electoral campaigner @NOLCAGUES (DON’T FUCK IT UP?) claims to be exorcising the unwanted PRI Party supporting tendencies that we have within.
Peña Nieto glares telegenically back and declares ‘ My commitment is to you and to all of Mexico.’
Korean scripts on iron gates. (뭐라고합니까?)
Japanese characters on colourful buses. (それは何を言っていますか?)
And then I was there.
STOP II
I arrived to Plaza Luis Cabrera, another favourite hangout of Beat authors where they could talk away under the gaze of rays of sun in a haze and daze of whatever mind-altering substances the streets or bars or pharmacies of the days had coughed up to them.
Kerouac reportedly ran to the square one night after taking peyote to lie hallucinating in the midnight grass. In his novella Tristessa which details his relationship with a Mexico City prostitute he describes the plaza thus;
‘a magnificent fountain and pool in a green park at a round O-turn in residential splendid shape of stone and glass and old grills and scrolly worly lovely majesties.’
Today amid the fountain and in the rest of the square there is some interesting public art – Warhol chanelled, too many deaths, too many cars, a trio of Fidos (an installation too?)
Josefina Vazquez Mota is in the presidential race too. Are these streams of blood pouring down her face premonitory of a metaphorical political slaying?
What happened on November 18 2008?
Well, this I presume.
Commercialization of Burroughs. Capitalization of crime.
STOP III
Burroughs, Kerouac, Ginsberg, Neal Cassady and Gregory Corso all stayed at 210 Orizaba Street. Burroughs wrote Queer there. Kerouac, parts of ‘Mexico City Blues.’
‘windows opening on the very sidewalk of Mexico with thousands of hepcats and children and yakking people going by’
Kerouac from ‘Desolation Angels’.
A red brick building stands at 210 Orizaba now, faded (demolished and vanished) days of glory.
I stopped by Under the Volcano English Bookstore (closed), name taken from the Malcolm Lowry novel, which has a reasonable beat writer selection.
And then I was there.
STOP IV (final stop)
Finally I stopped by a narrow side street to take a look at Jose Alvarado 37 (formerly Cerrada de Medellin 37) which was Burrough’s first ever address in Mexico City.
Kerouac arrived there with Cassady in 1950.
‘A brief mountain pass took us suddenly to a height from which we saw all of Mexico City stretched out in its volcanic crater below and spewing city smokes and early dusklights.’
Kerouac, from ‘On the Road.’
Kerouac also wrote a poem ‘Cerrada de Medellin Blues.’
Having completed the tour of visitations to landmarks of the beatniks in the Roma neighbourhood I set out for another side of the station, La Zona Rosa.
Sexual diversity ( Burroughs posthumously nods in approval), a tri-visaged man in the Plaza Del Angel Antiques Market, a human barricade of police in front of the Angel of Independence to oversee a seemingly multi-faceted political rally in which the absence of any mention of López Obrador, the third main presidential candidate seemed to be an endorsement.
Finally back to the station for colourful murals on the opposite platform.
I’ll leave you with this classic old Kerouac interview. ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!, Yas! Yas! Yas!’
(Echoes of Moriarty)
‘En 1949, era un lugar barato para vivir, con una colonia extranjera grande, casas de putas y restaurantes fabulosos,peleas de gallos y corridas de toros y cada diversión imaginable. Un hombre soltero podía vivir bien alli por dos dolares diarios.’
William Burroughs hablando de los placeres de vivir en México, DF.
Normalmente cuando prosigo una visita en el MCM Project la hago en una manera que es principalmente arbitraria. Pasos energizados de corazón me llevaran al;
¿Norte? ¿Sur?
¿Este? ¿Oeste?
¿Cada dirección? (preferido)
Poco sistemático, no metódico, aleatorio, inesperado, no dirigido, casual, indiscriminado, no específico, desordenado, vago, errático, por casualidad, azaroso.
Todos aplican – si gustas.
Un capricho, una oración, un antojo, sigo una corazonada.
Hoy hice una excepción parcial.
La Colonía de Roma, contigua a la estación, es la colonia del DF donde varios miembros indispensables de la generación beat pasaron mucho tiempo. Lugares frecuentados por William Burroughs, Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg entre otros asperjan la zona.
Hoy salí a prestar atención a algunos de eso lugares. El erratismo regular del proyecto inevitablemente se derramó a la visita.
Al bajar del tren, dentro de la estación, re-creación.
El Underground (tube se dice) de Londres a la derecha (el rito de andar en metro).
Jagger rasgado – apto.
El Metro de Paris a la izquierda.
Afuera,una glorieta.
La próxima pregunta es ‘¿Qué soy?
Instrumento – místico, ecléctico y elécrico, familia de cuerdas y arcos.
¿Soy un ………….?
Un corte de pelo gratis, todos los dias.
Ausencia fantasmal de un limpiabotas deja una grieta momentána en los cimientos incesantes del comercio de la calle.
Y entonces ahí estaba.
PARADA I
En 1951 William Burroughs (borracho), durante un juego de William Tell, accidentalmente disparó a su espose Joan Vollmer en la cabeza, que causó su muerte. Esto pasó en un edificio de apartmentos arriba del Bounty Bar, un lugar donde los escritores beat solían tomar.
Luego, en la introducción a su novela ‘Queer’ Burroughs escribió:
‘Me veo obligado a la terrible conclusión que nunca habría llegado a ser escritor sino por la muerte de Joan.’
Hoy el edificio es anodino. Hay una cantina ‘Krika’s’ donde el Bounty Bar estaba antes.
Seguí deambulando. La campaña de las elecciones presidenciales está calentando. Participante electoral @NOLCAGUES afirma que está ‘exorcizando al priista que sin querer llevamos dentro.’
Peña Nieto echa una mirada de indignación y declara ‘Mi compromiso es contigo y con todo México.’
Letras coreanas sobre una puerta de acero. (뭐라고합니까?)
Carácteres japoneses en un bos colorido. (それは何を言っていますか?)
Y entonces ahí estaba.
PARADA II
Llegué a la Plaza Luis Cabrera, otro lugar predelicto de los escritores beat donde podían hablar bajo los rayos cálidos del sol en la neblina y aturdimiento de cualquier estupefacientes que alteran la mente cuales habian encontrado en las calles o farmacias de la ciudad.
Según se dice que Kerouac se fue corriendo a la plaza una noche después de ingerir peyote para acostarse alucinando en la césped de medianoche.
En su novela Tristessa que da detalle sobre su relación con una prostituta de la Ciudad de México describe la plaza así:
‘Una fuente impresionante y alberca en un parque verde donde hay una glorieta en forma espléndida de piedra y vidrio…..’
Hoy, entre la fuente y el resto de la plaza hay arte público interesante; inspiración de Warhol, demasiadas muertes, demasiados coches, un trio de perros (¿una instalación también?
Josefina Vazquez Mota también está en la carrera presidencial. ¿Los flujos de sangre que van descendiendo sobre su cara son premonitorios de una matanza metafórica politica?
¿Qué paso el 18 de Noviembre de 2008?
Bueno, esto supongo.
Comercialización de Burroughs, capitalización de crimen.
Y entonces ahí estaba.
PARADA III
Burroughs, Kerouac, Ginsberg, Neal Cassady y Gregory Corso todos se quedaron en la calle Orizaba 210.
Ahí escribió Burroughs ‘Queer’. Kerouac, algunas partes de ‘Mexico City Blues’.
‘Ventanas que abren a la acera misma de México con miles de hepcats y niños y gente habladora pasando’
Jack Kerouac, from Desolation Angels.
Orizaba 210 es ahora un edificio de ladrillo rojo, días de gloria desteñidos (hecho a polvo, desaparecido)
Hice una parada por Under The Volcano Books Libreria Ingles (cerrada) que lleva su nombre de la novela de Malcolm Lowry y tiene una variedad buena de libros de la generación beat.
Y entonces ahí estaba.
PARADA IV (parada final)
Finalmente fui a Jose Alvarado 37 ( antes Cerrada de Medellin 37), una callejon angosta, para echar una mirada a la primera casa de William Burroughs en México.
En 1950 Kerouac llegó ahí con Cassady.
‘De repente un paso de montaña breve nos llevó a una altura desde que vimos toda la Ciudad de México extendida en su cráter de volcán abajo y vomitando humos de la ciudad y luces de crepúsculo.’
Jack Kerouac de ‘On the Road’ (En el Camino)
Kerouac también escribió un poema ‘Cerrada de Medellin Blues.’
Having completed the tour of visitations to landmarks of the beatniks in the Roma neighbourhood I set out for another side of the station, La Zona Rosa.
Habiendo terminado el tur de visitas a lugares de la generación beat en la colonia Roma me dirigi a un lado diferente de la estación, la Zona Rosa.
Diversidad Sexual (Burroughs da su aprobación póstumamente), un hombre de tres caras en el mercado de antiguedades Plaza Del Angel, una barricada de policia al frente de la Angel de la Independencia para supervisar una manifestación politica de varias facetas en cual la ausencia de alguna mención de López Obrador, el tercer candidato presidencial principal, pareció ser un apoyo.
Al fin de vuelta a la estación por murales coloridas en el otro anden.
Te dejo con esta entrevista clásica con Kerouac.
‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Yas! Yas! Yas!’
(Ecos de Moriarty)
Great visit and really enjoyed all the references, its the words that take me back in time and imagine how it might have been.
I like the way you write on the page with plenty of space makes it easier to read and absorb.
Agree with the others – I wanted to see how that area might have looked like in the 1950’s for years – but as Mexico City isn’t exactly a city I am likely to be able to travel to in the near future your post was a godsend. Many thanks! And keep up the good work.
Thanks for your comment! I’ll be looking over to your site too and hopefully making my way up to the US to check out some of the beat haunts there too.
Ya de regreso? después de un descansito merecido.
Recordar es vivir.¡
Esta estación es una de las que más he recorrido en mi juventud, cuando estudiaba inglés -interlingua, y la verdad era fascinante ir a insurgentes, ya esta muy cambiada, pero no por eso deja de ser interesante, sobre todo Plaza del Angel, el bazar de antiguedades, donde llegas a encontrar objetos de diferentes partes del mundo.
Hay un Restaurante que se llama TOKIO , vale la pena ir entre semana.
Do you realize how fabulous this post is? Of course you do….my God, I’m old enough to remember seeing Steve Allen on TV, and I loved him. Thanks for inserting this interview with Jack Kerouac, that in itself (besides your photos of course) is a prize to have found here. And then just reading your post in Beat was great fun. I’ll be posting this over on Twitter, but am going to wait until morning so it gets full attention.
Thanks a lot Angeline! I wouldnt say that I was completely sure that it was a good post but between the visit and the blog post I spent quite a lot of time on it so was definitely hoping it would turn out well!! and it is the beat generation that provides such an interesting topic to write about. Thanks for the support on twitter, hope you continue to enjoy.
Brilliant…looking forward to more insights into the beat generation. Loved the youtube on Jack Kerouac.
Glad you enjoyed it. Mexico City was very different I am sure in the 1950s. It is fun to track down some of their old haunts and try to get at least some sense of what things might have been like.
Facinating insight into the Beat Generation period in Mexico City, great observations
Thanks! Enjoyed every minute of it. Most probably some more tidbits on the beats coming up as I visit more stations.