To the editor:
Can’t say I agree with your paean of praise for William S. Burroughs (“A Century of Burroughs,” Journal-World, Jan. 12). Drug addict, murderer, destructive iconoclast, panderer of famous personality could best describe this “architect of culture.” While I’m not an art or literary expert, for the sober, his writings are obtuse, vulgar and inscrutable, and his art (e.g. shotgun blasts of paint cans) falls into the category of high-priced trash. The photos accompanying the article reflect a bitter old man, seemingly enthralled with violence, destruction and mere celebrity.
After “more than a few vodka drinks” anyone can mock the American dream, and his criticism smacks more of intellectual condescension than any form of constructive alternative. Perhaps I lack post-modern sophistication, but I’m not convinced that we should be proud that Burroughs “chose Lawrence to be his home.”