Someday someone is going to write a biography of Fernando Pessoa that is going to make him as widely known as James Joyce, Virginia Woolf, or T.S. Elliot. Pessoa was a poet, a chronicler of urban ennui, and a dreamer of the first order. Pessoa wasn’t just many things to many people, he was many people.
For most of the 20th century, Pessoa was regarded as a minor Portuguese poet whose output was hampered by his work as a translator and clerk in the city of Lisbon. He lived the kind of quiet and unremarkable life that Roberto Bolaño would have savaged in a short story. But the real story is more fantastic than any work of fiction.
When Pessoa died, he left behind a massive trunk that contained many volumes of work in a highly disorganized state. Much of the writing was fragmentary, providing haunting glimpses of a man who may have escaped the attention of others, but who noticed everything.
Forty-seven years after the poet’s death 500 of these fragments were collected into a single volume titled The Book of Disquiet. Pessoa’s posthumous masterpiece has been hailed as “a work of unclassifiable genius.” Pessoa himself described the project as “a factless autobiography.” Here’s an excerpt:
“Everything around me is evaporating. My whole life, my memories, my imagination and its contents, my personality - it's all evaporating. I continuously feel that I was someone else, that I felt something else, that I thought something else. What I'm attending here is a show with another set. And the show I'm attending is myself.”
But what about the rest of the work in the trunk?
Much of it was attributed to other writers such as Alberto Caeiro, Alvaro de Campos, Ricardo Reis, and Bernardo Soares. However, these other poets weren’t actual flesh and blood people. They were Pessoa’s creations, but they existed only in his mind; nor were they pseudonyms. Rather, they were what Pessoa called “semi-heteronyms,” personalities created by Pessoa that had their own biographies, worldviews, and writing styles that Pessoa employed while filling out their ouevre. They were separate and distinct from Pessoa and he came to think of them as unique entities. For instance one was a shepherd, another a doctor, another a naval engineer. They were aware of one another’s work and commented upon it. Pessoa, who was a fan of the occult and acquainted with Aleister Crowley, even worked up their astrological charts based on the birth dates he had ascribed to them.
I became acquainted with Pessoa’s work when I went to the Disquiet International Literary Program in 2012. I had been accepted to both Disquiet and Summer Literary Seminar, which was held in Vilnius, Lithuania that summer. I was determined to attend both, but when I put in my vacation request at the casino where I worked, it was denied.
So I quit. I was 44 years old. Too old for such shenanigans, but it was the best career move I ever made.
I went to Portugal and fell under the spell of Pessoa’s work, haunted the cafe where he used to writer, and fell in love with the city of Lisbon. For a few short weeks, I lived the life of a writer.
I like to skim The Book of Disquiet when I’m traveling (he said optimistically) because it compels me to really see, to look with all my senses.
“There are ships sailing to many ports, but not a single one goes where life is not painful.”
I was reminded of Pessoa this week when I read Tyler Malone’s exquisite review of Fernando Pessoa's The Complete Works of Alberto Caeiro, translated by Margaret Jull Costa and Patricio Ferrari from New Directions.
Someday, when this pandemic is over, I’m going back to Lisbon to read poetry, drink insanely strong espresso, and eat pasteis de nata, and you’re all invited.
Do What You Want Updates
We are in the home stretch, my friends. Do What You Want, my book with Bad Religion, will be published in less than two weeks. This doesn’t seem possible but here we are. I’ve been doing a few interviews and have a few more scheduled this week along with some events.
Last week I was interviewed by No Echo about Do What You Want, and I told the story of my first exposure to Bad Religion:
I was 12 years old when Bad Religion formed, but after I joined the Navy in ‘86, I was at a skinhead’s apartment in San Diego listening to records and making tapes. One of them was of Bad Religion’s Back to the Known. I didn’t know anything about Bad Religion but I wore that tape out as our ship cruised all over the Western Pacific. I remember being in Japan and running across a busy highway singing “Frogger” with a shipmate.
My response to the lyrics on Back to the Known was visceral and literal. I got in a lot of trouble in the Navy and couldn’t wait to get out, so I’d listen to songs like “New Leaf” and dream about going to college. (I also loved Peter and the Test Tube Babies “September” for similar reasons).
Then, when I started school in a small, rural, close-minded town in southwest Virginia, I’d listen to “Yesterday” and think about how good I’d had it back in California. So I’ve always associated Bad Religion with longing for something that’s just out of reach.
Today (Wednesday August 5) I will be appearing alongside Greg Graffin and Brian Baker on the Sirius XM show “Talk West,” which is on the Volume channel and hosted by Lindsay Parker with special guest co-host Davey Havoc of AFI.
On Thursday August 6, I’ll be a guest on That One Time On Tour, a podcast hosted by Christopher Swinney formerly of the Ataris. I’m not sure when this one will run but I’ll let you know when I do. In the meantime you can follow them on Instagram for updates.
Looking ahead, Tuesday August 18 is publication day and The Powerhouse Arena is hosting a virtual launch with all six members of the band. First come, first served, and registration is required so get on this now.
On Wednesday August 19 at 6pm PST, Book Soup will be hosting a roundtable discussion with Greg Graffin, Brett Gurewitz, Jay Bentley, Brian Baker, and myself as moderator. The event is free but you have to register.
Premiere Collectibles will be hosting a live signing on Thursday August 20 at 1pm PST with all of the members of the band. Note the early start time.
New music from Soul Side
This week DC legends Soul Side announced the release of new material for the first time since 1989. (Hot Bodi-Gram is one of my all-time favorite albums.) “This Ship” can be streamed now and it’s a monster.
These fucking guys
You know we’ve truly entered the new dark ages when the post office, the fucking post office, is under siege from the GOP, whom history will remember as brainless bootlickers who will do anything to hold on to power. You can send a reminder to your elected officials that the post office is an essential part of democratic life and must be protected at all costs by texting USPS to 50409. The folks at Resistbot will take it from there. (Hat tip to Razorcake.)