Forrest’s Reviews > The Hashish Films of Customs Officer Henri Rousseau and Tatyana Joukof Shuffles the Cards: > Status Update

The work gains momentum (and elicits more emotion) as ot goes along. "A Stroll" is particularly moving. Maybe the trend will continue?

"The Bordello" is a more coherent prose poem. If the rest of the book continues in the vein of the last two sections, this might be redeemable. Hope (and naivete) springs eternal.

"Gabriele's Opinion of My Hashish Hours" is the first section of this book that lives up to the promise of the surreal as a mechanism for breaking through to a more honest world by crashing through the gates of semi-structured nonsense into the ridiculousness of existence.

We're in the border regions of Surrealism, with Dada on the horizon, but not quite free of the grasp of "traditional" writing. In short, it's getting weird, but not weird enough to be really interesting or compelling. Again, at this point the translator's introduction holds more interest than the material itself.

Out of my sadness I paint garish posters for illuminated dilapidated houses. My train has just steamed off with a spring landscape. It is hateful to be a clown.