I Suspect That Many Of The Great

Everywhere - All Over Africa And South America - You See These Suburbs Springing Up. They Represent The Optimum Of What People Want. There's A Certain Sort Of Logic Leading Towards These Immaculate Suburbs. And They're Terrifying, Because They Are The Death Of The Soul. This Is The Prison This Planet Is Being Turned Into.

The Surrealists, And The Modern Movement In Painting As A Whole, Seemed To Offer A Key To The Strange Postwar World With Its Threat Of Nuclear War. The Dislocations And Ambiguities, In Cubism And Abstract Art As Well As The Surrealists, Reminded Me Of My Childhood In Shanghai.

Perhaps Violence, Like Pornography, Is Some Kind Of An Evolutionary Standby System, A Last-resort Device For Throwing A Wild Joker Into The Game?

The Endless Newsreel Clips Of Nuclear Explosions That We Saw On Tv In The 1960s (were) A Powerful Incitement To The Psychotic Imagination, Sanctioning *everything*.

I Don't Think Any Particular Painters Have Inspired Me, Except In A General Sense. It Was More A Matter Of Corroboration. The Visual Arts, From Manet Onwards, Seemed Far More Open To Change And Experiment Than The Novel, Though That's Only Partly The Fault Of The Writers. There's Something About The Novel That Resists Innovation.