La Revolution Surréaliste 1928
Source: La Revolution Surréaliste, no. 11, 4th year, March 15, 1928;
Translated: from the original letter, by Mitchell Abidor;
CopyLeft: Creative Commons (Attribute & ShareAlike) marxists.org 2012.
Question? Response. A simple labor of adequacy implying the optimism of conversation. The ideas of the two interlocutors follow each other separately. The momentary relationship between these ideas appears as a coincidence, even as they contradict each other. Always eager to give comfort, and since you like nothing so much as asking and answering, for your delectation the Exquisite Corpse has performed a few questions and answers whose carefully unforeseen connection is also guaranteed. We have no problem if some worried souls see nothing in this but a more or less noticeably improved version of the game of “petits papiers.”
N: What is Benjamin Péret?
Q: A menagerie in revolt, a jungle, freedom.
Q: What is Andre Breton?
N: An alloy of humor and the sense of disaster; something like a top hat.
N: What is an umbrella?
Q: The reproductive apparatus of the gastropod.
N: What is a sphere?
Q: A substance analogous to sulfur.
N: What is fear?
A: Betting your last dime on a deserted public plaza
N: What is a catastrophe?
A: The bolt of disasters.
N: What is fur?
A: The hummingbird that recalls the deluge while playing with the shadow of a fish.
N: What is fire?
A: Automatic decals.
A: What is a social upstart?
N: An action packed landing.
N: What is fatigue?
A: Negative cruelty; the abstract jungle of withdrawals.
B: What is a kiss?
S: A ranting: everything capsizes.
S: What is the day?
B: A woman taking a bath in the nude at nightfall.
B: What is freedom?
S: A multitude of tiny multi-colored points in the eyelids.
S: What is exaltation?
B: An oil stain in a stream
S: What are the eyes?
B: The night watchman in a perfume factory.
S: What is the moon?
B: A marvelous glazier.
B: What is it that’s gliding over S. and I?
S: Large, threatening black clouds.
B: What is a bed?
S: A quickly opened fan. The sound of a bird’s wing.
B: What is suicide?
S: Several deafening alarms.
B: What is absence?
S: Calm, limpid water; a mobile mirror.
M: What is a cannibal?
S: A fly in a bowl of milk.
M: What is the vegetable realm?
S: A hole in a feather pillow.
M: What is genius?
S: A layer of cracking varnish (the underside is drab); a deep root that reveals an entire world.
S: Why go on living?
A: Because at the prison gates there is nothing but singing keys.
A: Why must we smash a mirror in case of fire?
S: Because it freezes, thoughts ice skate.
S: What is a pile of stones?
N: A bad operation.
|N: What is admiration?
S: A confectioner’s display. The candies are replaced by soap bubbles.
N: What is spring?
S: A lamp fed by glowworms.
N: What is a general?
S: A tiring march over sharp stones. Long live the desert, camels, the sand.
N: What is travel?
S: A big glass ball with several gleams.
P: What is a magistrate?
B: A hooligan, a bastard, an asshole.
P: What is equality?
B: A hierarchy like any other.
P: What is brotherhood?
B: Perhaps it’s an onion.
B: What is rape?
P: The love of speed.
P: Why do dogs howl at the moon?
B: Because factory chimneys are red.
B: What is military service?
P: The sound of a pair of boots tumbling down the stairs.
P: What is a river of blood?
B: Hush! Cross out that question?
B: What is an arrow?
P: An “I” that’s lost its point.
P: What’s hidden at the bottom of a glass of mandarin?
B: A Jewish nose.
B: What is Baudelaire?
P: A colonial soldier who doesn’t know how to either read or write and who only eats grass.
B: What is existence?
P: An overturned wheelbarrow rotting on a public square next to a disemboweled horse.
P: What is the devil?
B: Circling the world on crutches.
B: What’s a baby?
P: A bearded, stuttering old codger who reads the feuilleton in the “Echo de Paris.”
A: Is Surrealism still an important organizing and disorganizing force in our lives?
B: It’s mud that is composed partly of flowers.
A: How many more times do you think you'll love again?
B: It’s a soldier in a sentry box looking at a photo he just took out of his change purse.
A: Does death have any importance in the make up of your life?
B: It’s time to go to bed.
B: What is immortal love?
A: Poverty is not a vice.
A: Night or abyss?
B: It’s a shadow.
A: What disgusts you most in life?
B: It’s you, my dear friend, and it’s me.