Sunday 29 September 2019



O Rose thou art sick. / The invisible worm, /That flies in the night / In the howling storm: /Has found out thy bed / Of crimson joy: /And his dark secret love / Does thy life destroy.

Those eight lines constitute the complete text of “The Sick Rose,” published by William Blake in Songs of Experience in 1794. I took to Blake early on, and thought Of Crimson Joy would make a dandy title. I accordingly fastened it on this novel when I sent the manuscript to Harry Shorten at Midwood. Someone there changed the title to Of Shame and Joy, and while I was a tad annoyed at the time, I have to say they made the right call. Of Shame and Joy’s not only a better title, it’s a damn good one.

I remember where and when I wrote the book, although I can’t say I recall much of the writing, or indeed of the book itself. It would have been in the late summer or fall of 1959. I’d gone to New York in July, settling in at the Hotel Rio on West 47th Street, planning to stay there until it was time to return to Antioch College for my final year. What I soon learned was that I’d already had my final year at Antioch, at least as far as the school was concerned. I’d written Campus Tramp, my first book as Andrew Shaw, just before they informed me of this decision, and then I went to work on something else, and a bad morning led me to pack a bag and move back to my parents’ home at 422 Starin Avenue in Buffalo.

(“A bad morning.” Is that unnecessarily cryptic? Think of the opening scene in After the First Death, but without the dead hooker on the floor. That's the kind of morning it was, and it led me to conclude that New York Wasn't Working Out, and that maybe I'd do better back in Buffalo.)

And, back in Buffalo, I set up my typewriter on the little maple desk on which I’d written Strange are the Ways of Love and Carla, and resumed writing books for Harry Shorten at Midwood,—and for Bill Hamling at Nightstand, who’d liked Campus Tramp enough to want more. For the next eight months or so I wrote books on that desk. My routine was an interesting one; I’d join my mother at the kitchen table for a cup of coffee around midnight, then write all night, then have breakfast with my dad around seven—and then go to bed. It worked for me, and I found things to do with the rest of my time; notably, I bought a partnership in a coffeehouse, The Jazz Center, and began keeping company with the woman whose ill fortune it would be to become my first wife.

And how did OF SHAME AND JOY fit into all this? Well, the Provincetown setting came from a two-day trip while I was living at the Rio. This girl whom I knew vaguely was going there, and I decided to join her. I remember we took a Greyhound bus, and that her name either was or wasn’t Suzy. (But then that’s true of almost everyone, isn’t it?) We went to P’town, and she had friends there, and I didn’t, and I wandered around for an evening and slept on somebody’s couch and went back to New York by myself in the morning. I never saw Suzy again, so for all I know she’s still there, though it strikes me as doubtful.

Of Shame and Joy has never been republished since its appearance as a Midwood Book, and I’m glad to be able to bring it out again—not least of all for the opportunity to use the wonderful Paul Rader cover. Isn’t it gorgeous?

Another Audible commuting listen courtesy of a free download code off the back of a response to a Lawrence Block newsletter. Not one I regretted listening to, but not one which has me hoovering up all Lawrence Block's early erotica works, pushed out under pseudonyms about 50-60 years ago.

A Princetown love story of sorts via....... denial of true self, an addiction to sex with a history of nymphomania, casual sexual encounters, nude swims, sex on the beach, parties and flings, unrequited love, obsession and a marriage proposal, a suicide attempt, a change of mind, a rescue, a rape, an encounter with a passive partner, a heart to heart and an acceptance of identity, an exciting encounter or two and a happy ever after (possibly).

A fairly small cast of characters who we get to know during the summer at a resort town. Boys and girls, though in the end the main focus is on a couple of women. I can't claim to have been on the edge of my seat regarding the outcome for our couple, though I'll profess an interest in seeing how it all turned out.

I think this one shows it's age a bit as the sex is incredibly tame by today's standards. Not especially memorable really. One traumatic event and the ability of the victim to move on incredibly quickly and put it behind her, struck me as unlikely and unbelievable and kind of left a bit of a sour taste in the mouth, if I'm honest. Apart from that bump in the road, I was happy to learn our characters' back stories, ambitions, hopes, failures and adventures.

I did enjoy the narration by Barbara Nevins Taylor.

3 from 5

Read - (listened to) September, 2019
Published - 1960
Page count - 178 (4 hours 42 minute listening time)
Source - author via an assistant with a download code
Format - Audible


  1. That's one thing I've always admired about Block, Col. He's done so many different sorts of books and stories. Even though this one wasn't tops on your list (and, if I'm being honest, probably wouldn't be on mine), it's so interesting to look at the spectrum of what Block's done.

    1. Definitely strings to his bow, Margot. I'm enjoying these trips to way back when with him, even if they aren't amazing.

  2. I've not read any of Block's smut, and have no particular intention to seek it out.

    That illustration packs a punch, though. You'd likely not find that on the cover of your Collected Works of Jane Austen.

    1. Cracking cover indeed. Probably not a Block book that would appeal to everyone.

  3. I've not read any of Block's smut, and have no particular intention to seek it out.

    Sorry -- just reread that and it seems a bit snotty! Not intended to be.