Le monde selon Quentin Mouron: «Césaire, sa verge contre nos colons» (Césaire, his rod against our colonists)»

Each month, we feature a column by one of the personalities who give us the pleasure of alternating between the two. In this post, writer Quentin Mouron explores a topical issue with his usual sharpness..

Western poets have excelled at circumventing assholes; they have mastered the art of euphemism, metaphor and circumlocution; they strip roses, they pick flowers, they suck the dew from an undergrowth at dawn; they have shied away from gaping, slippery, greasy, bloody nudity. It wasn't until 1871, the year of the Paris Commune, that Rimbaud and Verlaine wrote their famous «Sonnet du trou du cul», an unvarnished, ungloved celebration of the anal orifice. It was the birth of a poetry of real bodies, naked bodies, bodies of water and blood, bodies of sweat and pleasure.