Back in the 1940s Herbert
Huncke – New York thief, hustler, junkie, prostitute and inspiration to William
Burroughs and later Jack Kerouac – would lock himself in toilet cubicles off Forty-second
Street and, when not partaking in other activities, would scrawl his memoirs,
poetry and short stories into tiny notebooks or on whatever else came to hand.
In and out of prison and into
his 81st year Huncke was still testing positive for, among other things,
heroin and cocaine. It’s an extremely glib way of putting it – and not an ideal
lifestyle choice - but Huncke lived on his own terms, by his wits, and by all
accounts, by his gift of the gab.
The escape from the drab and
predictable nine-to-five existence, of knowing there must be something better
out there – somewhere, anywhere – is touched on a lot in Joe Ridgwell’s work
and again in his new short story, Jamaica,
published by Pig Ear Press. It’s typical Ridgwell: dreams and schemes cloaked
in a wobbly cockney swagger. He’s a storyteller. You get the impression Joe
could, like Huncke, talk anyone out of their last tenner. Well, at least try.
What makes Jamaica particularly special is the way it’s been published. It’s not
all about the presentation of course
but it goes a long way. Pig Ear have done a beautiful job. These aren’t words on a bog roll, shirt shelves or even a piss and
blood stained notebook. It’s like a hand-crafted passport and in the few
minutes it takes to read will take you somewhere better until, like in the story, reality kicks you back in the balls.
Jamaica by Joseph Ridgwell is published in a ludicrously limited-edition
by Pig Ear Press. Priced £6 with free P&P to anywhere in the world.
