75 yeras ago it was virtually impossible to look at pornographic images of men masturbating or having sex. So in 1945 when “20 Lithographies pour un livre que j’ai lu” was published it was pioneering.  Erotic pictures and beautiful poetry, how French! The poems are by Jean Genet, who is probably remembered best for his astonishing film, Un Chant D’Amour. Roland Caillaux was a French actor and illustrator who Genet meet through the model Édouard Dermi.  Édouard was also a gardener for Jean Cocteau. Below are some of the drawings and poems. They don’t translate to English very well, but to get a rough translation click on the drawing about the poem.

Transparent,voyageur des vitres du hallier
Par la route du sang revenu dans ma bouche
Les doigts chargés de lune et le pas éveillé
J’entends battre le soir endormi sur ma couche.

Canaille oserez-vous me mordre une autre fois
Retenez que je suis le page du Monarque
Vous roulez sous ma main comme un flot sous ma barque
Votre houle me gonfle, ô ma caille des bois

Ma caille emmitouflée, écrasée sous mes doigts.

Morte. Morte étranglée. O fleur de nos contrées
Laissez couler vos pleurs sur ses hanches de houx
Mésanges vos nids bleus faites-les sur son cou
Et vous, mes nuits portez DIVINE la Dorée

La nuit rauque à vomir s’écorche à cette rive
Clichy de la Paresse et des mauvais sujets
Où sa bouche pincée la rencontre furtive
Oublie sa gorge blonde à d’autre bras de jais.

2 thoughts on “Jean Genet & Roland Caillaux 1945

  1. reminds when going without underwear, having large balls would find the exposing themselves if I was only had shorts on. wearing pants causes the majority to shift to on side, resulting in a high bulge. the looks from older men seem to encourage a hard-on.

  2. These drawing, reminded me that art has the power to influence, inspire and torment the beholder.
    I was in my mid-teens in 1980, under the age of consent, but already 6’2″ and looking much older. It was the first time I headed into the city by myself to take a weekend math class at NYU that would give me credits towards college while in high school. I was all hormones and newly sprouted chest hairs, an innocent in too tight disco jeans riding the subway alone. Tom of Finland was hot at the moment and I remember seeing those illustrations on pasted up bills announcing something called a Tea Dance. I saw them in the book stores, magazine racks..in the window of sex toy shops. I was mesmerized by the raw sexuality of those drawings, yet I was ashamed to be looking at them. I would go to a newsstand and thumb through a mainstream publication while sneaking peaks at the charcoal rendered men, with muscles, beard stubble, hard nipples, and obscene bulges. Fuck! Those illustrations made my teenage cock stir and I was only looking peripherally. Each Saturday on my trip in, I would spend hours going from shop to shop where I knew I would find prints, greeting cards, posters, books, of Tom of Finland. I could not work up the courage to open one of those books, but I studied what I could see. I started wearing my cock out of my underwear, the elastic waistband of my black Jockey Elance briefs shoved under my balls giving them a lift and giving me my own obscene bulge in my faded jeans. I had no idea what I was doing, but the stares, smiles, and lewd comments I started getting from passing men in Levi 501s and plaid shirts told me I was doing it right. Art inspired me to dress like a whore and to become a cocktease. Thanks Art!

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