If you have never heard of Dick Higgins, take a look at Siglio’s press release, which quotes Dick’s self-description from an unpublished autobiographical manuscript in the book’s afterword:
I suppose I’m part Emerson or Thoreau, and part Davey Crockett. For all my delight in other cultures and languages, my pleasure in digging gold nuggets out of bypassed selves, I’m still a crackerbarrel yankee at heart. I’ve whored, seduced, and gambled. I’ve been a precocious brat and a sedate businessman. I’ve been insane and sick. I’ve had enough fancy dinners to know that the best food is food for thought. I’ve worked in factories and universities enough to know that there’s really precious little difference between them. I’ve tried to be a saint and found that wasn’t me.
There’s a party to launch the book on Thursday, Nov. 8, at the Printed Matter bookstore in Manhattan. It will include a conversation with co-editor Steve Clay, who is also the publisher of Granary Books, the curator/art historian Alice Centamore, the Siglio publisher Lisa Pearson, and Christian Xatrec, the director of the Emily Harvey Foundation. One caveat: Fluxus has taken over Dick’s afterlife, more so it seems than when he was still around. It shouldn’t. An old friend of Dick’s, Richard Kostelanetz, thinks it’s a kind of diminishment. I tend to agree. Dick was far more than Fluxus.