DEMONOLOGY
        
        
          
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          ("junk takes everything and gives nothing"). And the people who
        
        
          live off other people's needs and addictions, even in the "realistic"
        
        
          world of this early book, are described as being peculiarly monstrous
        
        
          and repulsive. Thus one vague type who somehow lives off junk
        
        
          without actually selling it or taking it: "This man walks around in
        
        
          the places where he once exercised
        
        
          his
        
        
          obsolete and unthinkable trade.
        
        
          But he is unperturbed. His eyes are black with an insect's unseeing
        
        
          calm. He looks as if he nourished himself on honey and Levantine
        
        
          syrups that he sucks up through a proboscis."
        
        
          The world into which Burroughs wandered in his flight from
        
        
          suburban unreality provided him not only with the sensations and
        
        
          sufferings connected with addiction and withdrawal; it introduced
        
        
          him to a whole gallery of living grotesques, to the unspeakable things
        
        
          that can happen to a human being. Subway Mike: "He looked like
        
        
          some specialized kind of underground animal that preys on the ani–
        
        
          mals of the surface." Mary: "Her eyes were cold fish-eyes that
        
        
          looked at you through a viscous medium she carried about with her.
        
        
          I could see those eyes in a shapeless, protoplasmic mass undulating
        
        
          over the dark sea floor." Lee's friend, Bill Gains: "He was not
        
        
          merely negative. He was positively invisible." There are many
        
        
          others, most of whom seemed to have returned to some lower animal
        
        
          form of life. Not that the figures of ordinary society present an
        
        
          attractive alternative: faceless bureaucrats, stupid and bullying police–
        
        
          men, a lethal bore (who reappears in
        
        
          
            Naked Lunch),
          
        
        
          lifeless hos–
        
        
          pital patients, and a moribund psychiatrist who "was ready to take
        
        
          down my pysche and reassemble it in eight days." The "normal"
        
        
          world is scarcely more pleasing than the junk world.
        
        
          While moving through those areas where "junk is often found
        
        
          adjacent to ambiguous or transitional districts ... a point where
        
        
          dubious business enterprise touches Skid Row," Burroughs was ab–
        
        
          sorbing the atmosphere and assembling the cast of his future work.
        
        
          He mentions other experiences which clearly contributed to the
        
        
          shaping of his fictional world: the continual "moving on"; rubbing
        
        
          along with dubious company but never establishing meaningful
        
        
          human relationships; feeling the police close in; moving through a
        
        
          dream world; the ever renewed search for "the Man" who can
        
        
          provide the junk; attempted cures at institutions like Lexington; and
        
        
          of course the various effects of junk itself. The junkie has a com-