Quick Fire At The Slaughterhouse: Interview With U.V. Ray

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As I wrote in my foreword to this great collection of stories:

‘In the era of the bland generation UV Ray’s writing bears all the flavour of a gourmet meal at the heart of the Renaissance. While formula and conformity to the tired tropes of storytelling rule the day, UV Ray writes with fire and heart. The public palate for the prosaic ignores the extremes of literary history. Without the likes of Artaud or Swift reading falls to the common denominator of self-gratification. ‘

I recommend that you buy this book, a major conflagration in the modern era of blandness.

UV met me at The Slaughterhouse where we talked about glass and the nature of equality.

How fragile is glass?
What’s plaguing me at the moment is that I have no idea how it’s all going to end. My life, I mean. And ultimately what it all means, what it’s all for. Everything seems so meaningless. I don’t like the idea that this aspect of my own life is completely out of my hands. All any of us know is that at some point our life will end. And the passing of the flesh will be forever.

Therein lies our beauty. We are as transitory as a cloud and once we are gone, evaporated, no one will ever see our exact likeness again.

But beauty is both predatory and fragile. That is the essence of We Are Glass. There are all these people; it doesn’t matter whether they are strong or weak. We are all finally and ultimately doomed. Over time we become frail and life beats us all down in the end. We have form and apparent rigidity but we are so easily shattered, despite any illusions.

If death is the equaliser what does it reveal about the nature of equality?

Equality is a myth. The idea is merely a balm to soothe us. Even death isn’t the equaliser. We all eventually turn to dust but some people leave a legacy and others are simply forgotten. without getting into the rudiments of the issue I think too many people think equality is a right. It’s a nice idea but the world doesn’t work that way; I am afraid it’s in the lion’s nature to prey on the lamb. The nature of man is not so far removed, like I just said a moment ago, we are both predatory and fragile. Of course, what fucks it all up is the fact that we’ve allowed religions and politics to stick its beak into the equation. I can’t say anymore on this issue because it makes my piss boil.

W.B.Yeats wrote in The Second Coming
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity
Do you think we live in a passionless age?

Well, he was a bit arty-farty fuckface wasn’t he? And I mean the last thing we want is to be too arty-farty fuckface about these things. Muhammad Ali certainly didn’t lack any conviction. So that pisses all over Yeats’ bonfire. Some people talk the talk – but they can also very much walk the walk.

What we lack currently is a healthy dose of rebellion. I suppose it could be considered the same thing. Without rebels there is no movement. Whether it’s rebellion against government or something such as the literary status quo, the literary establishment, without insurrection there is only stagnation. Currently the literary scene is like a stagnant pond; there are a lot of scum-sucking bottom-feeders. But somehow, far too many of these scum-sucking bottom-feeders have floated above their station in life and are clamouring together on the surface. It’s forming a stagnant skin and the water no longer flows. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; this isn’t a difficult situation to resolve. A good punch up the knickers would soon sort many of the fuckers out. At the moment they’re looking at me and wondering, ‘who is this young kid? Good-looking boy – but can he write?”

And the answer, of course, is you bet your ass he can! And We Are Glass is about to become that much needed good, hard punch up the knickers. With the publication of this book, Murder Slim Press have put the cat very much amongst the pigeons.

Give us your most dangerous move.

Trying to walk to the toilet after eight pints of lager and half a bottle of whisky.

Thanks UV.


Get a copy of We Are Glass

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9 Responses to Quick Fire At The Slaughterhouse: Interview With U.V. Ray

  1. Jason Michel says:

    Yep. That about sez it all.

  2. nigel says:

    We Are Glass sounds really interesting and if this interview is anything to go by, it certainly will be. Thanks for the Ray of sunshine.

  3. Wow, straight to the point and no beating around the bush here. Thanks for the slap in the face and the laugh that followed!

  4. Someone once said this of humanity… (I have to paraphrase)… “… a bunch of mindless bi-peds walking around, masturbating our way to the next life.”

    U.V. certainly doesn’t ‘jerk’ around… gets right to the heart of things. I shall have to check out We Are Glass… since as I get done masturb… oops! Sorry! LOL!!

    Impressed, I am, yes! Gritty and real…. I liked this one very much! Loved the bit about Ali pissing all over Yeats… lol!

    Thank you, Richard and U.V.

  5. AJ Hayes says:

    I agree with the Good lookin’ Kid completely. Speaking for the States, a stiff punch up the knickers is a long time over due our foggy-bottom guys. Don’t agree with the pictured cerveza Corona though, Bohemia is a much better beer. As always, good stuff from UV Ray.

  6. u.v.ray says:

    As anyone who knows me will tell you, I am almost exclusively a whisky drinker. I deny all knowledge of how that poor quality bottle of beer was snapped anywhere near my hand. Trick of the light, perhaps.

    Muchas gracias one and all for the comments. My heart is feeling unusually warm. I think I’ll go and lie down until this strange sensation passes.

  7. Josette Collins says:

    u.v.ray writes brilliantly and his works are always exciting for me to read.
    He knows this godamn life too well and gets his message across clearly no punches held back!
    My hat’s off to you u.v.ray!

  8. Miss Alister says:

    Ah, the unusually incisive mind of UV Ray! The first two answers so keenly perceptive I forgot to breathe, which was my most dangerous move, today anyway.

    Who could resist a cuntless little fuck doll and a tumorous tin soldier wannabe and the promise of fifteen more broken pieces of glass? Not me : )

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