Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Where Art and Crime Intersect
DIMITRI MUGIANIS
There was this Puerto Rican dope dealer, Ramon [name changed], who got intro-
duced into our whole scene there at the Chelsea. He became a peer of these Beat
writers like Huncke and Marty Matz, and he didn't even realize who they were.
He was a really smart guy, but he probably didn't have more than an eighth grade
education.
SoI'dtellhim,“Ramón,that'sHerbertHunckethewriterthere,andoverthere
is Gregory Corso, the poet.”
“Get the hell out of here!” he'd say.
But the fascination went both ways. When Huncke was living on 7th Street
and I was living at the Chelsea, Ramón left a bunch of guns at Huncke's place.
“Come here,” he said to me, and he strutted over with his chest puffed
out—and Huncke was a very little man—and he opened this big trunk. It was just
filled with guns. And Huncke was so excited. He just loved to have his fingers
in crime! He had this beautiful smile on his face, as if he'd just done something
really, really great!
JAMES RASIN
Huncke could instantly recognize anyone else who was into that criminal scene,
andthey'd let each other inontheir kindofdrugandcriminality lifestyle. But one
time Huncke got beat up pretty badly here at the hotel. He had a pretty terrible
bruise on his elbow. When he was unlocking his door, somebody pushed him into
his room and beat him up.
DIMITRI MUGIANIS
You don't see much anymore of the place where art and criminality meet, which
happened a lot in the Chelsea Hotel, and also happened in the Lower East Side.
These old guys like Huncke all represented that mixture. They all did time in
prison, and they all read books! They could hang out with someone like Ramón,
a drug dealer, who was completely at home with these writers and artists be-
cause they were also part of his underground scene. Or they could hang out with
someone who had five postgraduate degrees.
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