Lefurgey was a metaphysical wayfarer, a poet-sage who lived his life on the razor’s edge. A walking coincidentia oppositorum, he threw himself full tilt into the Moebius simultaneity of worlds both sacred and profane. Enigmatic and dreamlike, yet not without a recurrent insistence on embodiment, his surreal poems flicker as hot coals do, often flaring between themes of eternity and facticity, body and spirit, love and lovelessness.
"Lefurgey’s poetry--a light / so bright it blinds my eyes / Alive! / Alive! / Alive! / (I’ve died!)" -- Daniah Chilcott, director of Le Trident Barattage (from a 1938 critical-creative review first published in VERBANA, the famed Surrealist art journal)
"The translation of a poem by February Eglomise had been floating around the island of Montréal during my undergraduate years in that city; it was entitled ’A Lifebuoy’s Merger’ and had to do with the alchemical process--indeed, it was said to have divulged the great secret of tinctures, and by dint of this many believed the poet to have been a student of Jean-Julien Champagne, a.k.a. Fulcanelli. The original from which ’A Lifebuoy’s Merger’ had been translated was a document no one could find. It is fitting, then, that a student in anglophone Toronto--at the so-called ’Divinity School’ (a.k.a.School of ’Divining-Rods’ qua ’Plumbing-Techniques’) of Toronto’s Humber College--plumbed the depths of this mystery and discovered that both the name of the poet (February Eglomise) and the name of the poem (’A Lifebuoy’s Merger’) were anagrams of Ambroise LeFurgey (and of course, vice versa). Mike Tulles, Humber College’s top-notch student of plumbing-techniques, anagrammatized his name and then published his findings under this nom-de-plumb --a publication that took the form of the present pseudonymous translation (plus prefatory introduction) of an unanagramatized French poet. In order to disguise his institutional affiliation, he simply added an asterisk-dagger to Humber, creating in so doing Humber+ College and its ’Divinity School’ student Liesl Ketum. Lest it be said that I here break pseudonymies, it should be added that Mike Tulles a.k.a. Liesl Ketum might in fact--in reality--be Ellie Muskt (yet another anagram), and that the latter and all of the former might be the daughter (and/or son) of a certain Maye and Errol, to whose surname another asterisk-dagger was added. The mysteries and mysterious/pseudonymous interconnections go on and on and on. In this space--in the space of these plural/plurifold pseudonymies--let me simply suggest, in fine gnOme_Books fashion, that the translator and translated can be signed (either one) as Space-X." -- Dan Mellamphy