No one who has met him has forgotten the encounter.
Like hooded moons, his eyes are the feature most remembered by all the people who have encountered him. I help people to live them.’ He was the God-player, the man in the green cloak. Yet another wants to revive the public performances in Manhattan, the ones Moreno started forty years ago when he was newly arrived, the youngĮxistentialist from Vienna who had once said to Freud: ‘You analyse people’s dreams. A man wants to settle the matter of the old man’s successor in the Society.
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A woman wants to re-publish something that is not yet free of copyright. They have spilled out words rehearsed on the way from Poughkeepsie or New Paltz, Los Angeles, Amsterdam. One by one, the pilgrims have filed past his bedside in these last weeks. Moreno is dying and the world is still spinning. He knows he is dying, and like Abraham or any other patriarch, he is finishing his business, receiving visitors, preparing for the next great journey. In a narrow bed, in the wooden gatehouse in Beacon, New York, the house he shares with Zerka, he has stopped taking water. It’s and Jacob Levy Moreno is about to die. You then will awaken as radical freedom, and sing those songs of radiant release, beam an infinity too obvious to see, and drink an ocean of delight. Publication of this title was assisted by the Commonwealth Government through the Australia Council, its arts funding and advisory body.Īpart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the relevant copyright, designs and patents acts, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publisher. The State of Western Australia has made an investment in this project through ArtsWA in association with the Lotteries Commission. National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-publication data Russell, Bruce, 1943. Typeset by Fremantle Arts Centre Press and printed by Australian Print Group, Maryborough. Enquiries should be made to the publisher. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. He now lives in Fremantle, Western Australia.įREMANTLE ARTS CENTRE PRESS PO Box 158, North Fremantle Western Australia 6159. Bruce grew up in Sydney and in the early seventies lived and taught in North America. Since the mid-1970s he has won a number of awards and prizes for his short fiction and is represented in Fictions 88, an anthology of stories chosen by Frank Moorhouse for ABC Books. It’s about an ordinary man trying not to make too much of a wally of himself.īruce Russell is the author of Jacob’s Air, winner of the T A G Hungerford Award in 1995.
This ironic, comic novel flits from the past to the present, weaving a tale of life’s journey with some pretty interesting pit stops - geodesic domes, psychodrama and gurus, armed robbery and prison, New York and Fremantle, the Chelsea Hotel and Adele’s B & B. Friends from childhood, their lives diverge as they battle with the big questions - relationships, fathering, the limits of spontaneity, the usefulness of seventies obsessions like the ‘human potential movement’ - until they’re drawn together again by Francis’ elusive daughter, Piaf. Ben Wallymacher has always struggled to keep up with Francis. I want ordinary madness, ordinary orgies, I want sitting around ’til three talking politics to be ordinary, I want to be ordinarily surrounded with colourful, creative people who smoke too much, I want to live in extraordinarily beautiful and wild places with ordinary exotic women, leading a lavish life of ordinary decadence and excess!’ ‘You want to burn the candle at both ends?’ I said. Or rather, I want ordinary to have a new meaning. ‘I’m not going to settle for the ordinary, Ben.
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