Collage # 3 (Words are a risk, too. The first risk.)

Posted on February 5, 2014 by


The dead return, they mingle, their smell is layered over the living and the present. Do people passing in the street recognise the smell that hangs like a cloud like a shroud, or do only the little dogs know it, jerking and running around corners to catch the tantalising bitch-smell of death that stings them to life, to uncomplicated slotmachine love where the face is faceless – Pardon me, as I passed by did I leave a germ of
suffering trapped in your breath, a sealed envelope of
love in the lattice-work of your face?






“Words are a risk, too. The first risk.”

Janet Frame (Daughter Buffalo)



“I inhabited a territory of loneliness which resembles the place where the dying spend their time before death, and from where those who do return, living, to the world bring, inevitably, a unique point of view that is a nightmare, a treasure, and a lifelong possession.[It is] equal in its rapture and chilling exposure [to] the neighbourhood of the ancient gods and goddesses.”


“But it is imperative, for our own survival, that we avoid one another, and what more successful means of avoidance are there than words? Language will keep us safe from human onslaught, will express for us our regret at being unable to supply groceries or love or peace.”

Janet Frame




An angel at my table (1990, Jane Campion) – About Janet Frame‘s life: