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PostPosted: Thu April 19th, 2018, 17:10 GMT 
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Dix jours avec Bob Dylan / Ten Days with Bob Dylan (See the translation below)
Un livre en français écrit par Robert Martin, paru en avril 2018 aux Éditions Ptyx.
Quatrième de couverture : En mai 1975, Bob Dylan rend visite au peintre David Oppenheim dans sa maison de Haute-Savoie. Robert Martin, vingt deux ans, se trouve là. Il les suit dans une longue dérive qui les conduit jusqu’à la fête des Gitans aux Saintes-Marie-de-la-Mer, sur le vieux port à Marseille et en Corse. On passe de longues heures à table, on boit trop, on tombe follement amoureux, on ne l’est plus, on brandit des révolvers, on dort peu. Martin tire immédiatement une première leçon de ces journées mouvementées : la célébrité détruit. D’ailleurs, en quarante ans, il a parfaitement réussi à ne pas se faire connaître. Depuis l’auteur est parti dans une toute autre dérive, une dérive sans fin, mais il ne sait toujours pas qui est Bob Dylan et il ne parvient pas à s’intéresser au rock’n’roll.
On parle. De quoi ? Il y a des silences. Il est question des Indiens Hopis chez qui il a séjourné quelques mois auparavant dans le désert de l’Arizona. Il a été mordu par un serpent. Il a eu très peur. Silence. Un joueur de belote pousse une longue toux catarrheuse. Bob paye son café en alignant scrupuleusement les pièces de cinq, dix et vingt centimes. ヌa m’a un peu étonné. Je reste avec l’image de Bob comptant la monnaie, comme les habitués de ce comptoir au fond d’une campagne oubliée.
facebook.com/dixjoursavecbobdylanrobertmartin

Ten Days with Bob Dylan
A French book, writed by Robert Martin, published in April 2018 by Ptyx Editions.
The English translation will be available soon.
Back cover :
In May 1975, Bob Dylan visited the painter David Oppenheim in his house in Haute-Savoie. Robert Martin, twenty-two years old, is there. He follows them in a long drift that leads them to the feast of Gypsies at Les Saintes-Marie-de-la-Mer, on the Old Port in Marseille and Corsica. They spend long hours at the table, they drinks too much, they fall madly in love, they are no longer in love, one brandishes revolvers, they sleep little. Martin immediately draws a first lesson from these disordered days: celebrity destroys. Moreover, in forty years, he has perfectly managed not to be known. Since the author has gone on a completely different drift, an endless drift, but he still does not know who Bob Dylan is and he can not seem to care about rockn'roll.
“We are talking. Of what? There are silences. It is about the Hopi Indians with whom he stayed a few months ago in the Arizona desert. He was bitten by a snake. He was very scared. Silence. A cards player pushes a long, catarrhous cough. Bob pays for his coffee by scrupulously aligning the coins with five, ten and twenty centimes. It surprised me a bit. I stay with the image of Bob counting the currency, like the regulars of this bar in the depths of a forgotten campaign”.
facebook.com/dixjoursavecbobdylanrobertmartin


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PostPosted: Fri April 20th, 2018, 05:36 GMT 
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Sounds interesting. This was a turbulent phase in Dylan's life I would like to know more about.
About his stay in the Arizona desert: is there anything known about this time? Iirc, it is mentioned in the Biograph liner notes, but I'm not quite sure and cannot search for it at the moment.


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PostPosted: Sat April 21st, 2018, 04:03 GMT 
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Location: .....down by the river
^Not saying that Bob was making up a story or anything, but his tale about being
in the desert with Indians and being bitten by a snake reminded me right away
of the snake scene in Billy Jack, a movie that was popular in the early 70's.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ertqbAkcoLg

Remember Bob's tall tale about running away with a Carnival ?
Just guessing, but I'd say his snake story has about as much truth to it as the carnie story.


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PostPosted: Mon April 23rd, 2018, 22:19 GMT 
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Chap. X
`"The pilgrimage in Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer began four days earlier, May 24, as every year since the late nineteenth century. Thousands of Gypsies, sometimes from far away, have devoted themselves to the cult of Sara la Noire (Sara the Black), sacrificing to a ritual punctuated by mystical demonstrations. The ceremony ends with the immersion of the statue of the saint, wrapped in veils sewn with golden threads, into the waves of the Mediterranean. The most fervent of the pilgrims advance into the water, fully clothed, up to the shoulders.
And then the Romani people pull from the caravans, guitars and accordions and continue the party for a few days; piety takes another destination. When we leave the beach looking for a café, they are all there, fully awake, and they invaded the terraces overlooking the dike.
We sink, without even exchanging a glance, into the calm and wild disorder of the gypsy flamenco.
Sitting in front of the audience, four men ‘rap’ on the guitars, with strings and fingers, eyelid folded on their instruments. One of them, older, in the center, launches long sentences with a surprising dexterity that the others punctuate rapidly back and forth, sharply banging the soundboard of their instrument; or one of the three adds a short illumination to the solist's melodies.
The man looks up, leaving the shadow of his large black hat. His right canine sparkles in the sun, rings on his fingers, his face impassive, serious. Manitas de Plata plays for his family. Sometimes, from the circle that surrounds the guitarists, a man dressed in a t-shirt in the colors of Olympique de Marseille, advances. Clinking eyes, fingers spread out in front of him, he utters a long moan, which pierces the soul.
And then suddenly we do not know why, the men hit the palms of their hands with a fast pace. The few tourists around join in the clapping (palmas). I would like to, also, but I fear the mishap.
Bob, silent and concentrated, is absorbed by the movement of Manitas fingers. We remain for a long time listening to the guitarists, without being able to detach ourselves from the circle which surrounds them and which has enlarged considerably. And then the men get up from their chairs, leave the terrace, laughing, and leave for lunch. The crowd disperses, and we too.The crowd disperses and we also leave the seaside, frustrated at not being able to accompany them."


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PostPosted: Mon April 23rd, 2018, 22:35 GMT 
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Bob told me this anecdote during our trip. He did not tell me when it happened. I did not find it either in the biographies I read. But I read very little.


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PostPosted: Fri April 27th, 2018, 19:33 GMT 
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I'm fascinated by this period and very much looking forward to the English translation of your book. Please make sure to announce it on this forum when it's published in the UK. Thank you.

To alphatheta :
Of course, I will post on Expecting Rain the news of the translation of this book into English and its edition. In some months. First in the United Kingdom, then in the USA (unless I quickly find an American publisher). But by then, I'll be happy to answer your questions.
Friendly


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PostPosted: Fri July 27th, 2018, 11:21 GMT 

Joined: Fri March 24th, 2006, 21:57 GMT
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Hello again - is there any update on when an English translation/ publication of this is likely to happen? Thank you


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PostPosted: Fri July 27th, 2018, 14:08 GMT 
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Thanks Alphatheta,
A first translation is almost ready. Perhaps it is enough to interest a publisher or an Anglo-Saxon agent. If you know one?
Sincerely,
Robert Martin


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PostPosted: Sat July 28th, 2018, 11:47 GMT 

Joined: Fri March 24th, 2006, 21:57 GMT
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Hello Robert

I can't help you with publisher or agent on this subject matter, sorry - I wish I could. My only suggestion is that you write to Derek Barker who manages a UK based Dylan web site called Isis. He publishes quite a lot of books/ monographs on Dylan, some of which he;'s written himself, and some of them are quite good. He might be able to help you himself and if not could be the person to know who might as they seem to have contacts with all the major Dylan publications here in the UK. You can find a link to Isis on the main page of Expecting Rain in the left hand margin. Good luck with this project and please let me know if you have any success finding a publisher. Maybe someone else reading this has suggestions for Robert's UK version of this project that I don't know about?


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PostPosted: Mon July 30th, 2018, 10:46 GMT 
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Hello Alphabeta,
thank you for this precious indication, I will visit the Isis site. But this book is more ambitious and the story of my trip with Bob, David and Armance - which remains as rigorous as possible - is a pretext for more romantic considerations. Look at the right column of this page https://dixjoursavecbobdylan.jimdo.com/, copy and paste and try a translation here https://www.deepl.com/translator. I think Ten Days With Bob Dylan might interest a generalist publisher. I'm going after him.
Sincerely,
Robert


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