John Larsen on the streets of Hollywood. I met John about the time we began recording
at Marc Chiat's studio.

John is one of the most well-read people I've ever met. When we first talked, he filled the hour with a complex analysis of the fiction of Robbe-Grillet. John would talk about Robbe-Grillet's work as being "purely phenomenological," or say that his writing was a "theory of pure surface." We moved on to other French writers, Simon, Racine, Camus, and Sartre. At one point, I invited John back to my house. I cooked him dinner and we stayed up until dawn talking books. I brought up theology, and was astounded when John moved into that topic comfortably, quoting Jacques Ellul, Buber, Kung, while he chain-smoked, his keen eyes squinting through clouds of tobacco. He is probably the only American I've met who could talk about Ellul with authority. I have been a great fan of Ellul's writing for some time, and published some articles and biographical notes about him on my book site (go to Jacques Ellul page on The Words website). John still lives on the street, north of Franklin in a place that is his secret. I took these two photos near his hideaway. In the lower photograph, he is reading through my book for the first time. "Not too shabby," was his verdict.