In his introduction to Walerian Borowczyk’s 1992 short story collection Anatomy of the Devil (L’anatomie du diable), French surrealist writer André Pieyre de Mandiargues writes of the “feeling of connection” between himself and Borowczyk “for some twenty years through the cinema, plastic arts, literature…”(1) Mandiargues’ mention of a connection through literature, doubtless in the context of himself and Borowczyk sharing similar tastes, Borowczyk even turning to Mandiargues’ own literature on four occasions as source material for his film work [i], nevertheless stands out. Borowczyk, despite his polymathmathical talents and artistic connection with Mandiargues, would only work in Mandiargues’ chosen medium of literature just once, that being the Anatomy of the Devil collection. As Mandiargues’ appreciation alludes to, Borowczyk was primarily a visualist, not only as an animator and filmmaker but in a variety of graphic arts from painting, lithography, poster design and the “plastic arts”, Borowczyk also a sculptor of numerous curious objects. Though Borowczyk had contributed four episodes to the French erotic television series Série rose (Softly from Paris, 1986-1991)[ii], Borowczyk’s career behind a camera had slowed considerably upon the original publication of Anatomy of the Devil with Love Rites (Cérémonie d’amour, 1987), what would ultimately be Borowczyk’s final feature adaptated from Mandiargues’ final novel Tout disparaîtra (1987) having been released five years prior. Borowczyk’s later career saw what Friends of Walerian Borowczyk co-founder Daniel Bird describes as “not so much a return to as a focus on printing”(2), a focus which partially characterizes Anatomy of the Devil, the book, true to Borowczyk, a multidisciplinary work fusing Borowczyk’s short fiction and graphics.

Described by Bird as “a synthesis and a summery”(2), Anatomy of the Devil can in certain ways been read as Borowczyk using the medium of literature as a means of bringing his career in various disciplines full circle while simultaneously inventing new methods of contextualizing images. Coining the term “pulverographie” or “dustography”, Borowczyk developed a new way of repurposing older imagery, be it drawings, paintings, photographs or film stills, through copying and enlarging isolated features, Borowczyk purposefully seeking out the distortion the process resulted in (2). As noted by Bird, Borowczyk utilized the process in 1990 for the production of a calendar, the pulverographs or dustographs sourced from paintings by Italian surrealist artist Bona, wife of Mandiargues [iii]. Borowczyk’s new pulverographie process however would be a defining characteristic of Anatomy of the Devil with the pulverographs serving as illustrations for the stories. The stories themselves, similar to the pulverographs being visual material previously used by Borowczyk, also contain numerous features found throughout Borowczyk’s film work. The stories are also what Borowczyk’s assistant and Anatomy of the Devil translator Michael Levy calls “an alchemist’s treasure hunt of micro-plots”(3), Levy referring to Borowczyk as “sweeping panorama of history and culture”(3) with some of the treasures buried within the book containing references more arcane than others. Some even “unknowable”, Borowczyk’s “often ironic perspectives raise many questions” in Levy’s words (3). Levy admits to being faced with many questions himself when translating Borowczyk with many of the alchemist’s treasures at the mercy of the translation, Levy emphasizing the book’s “crystalline layers of meaning which, like reflections in a “house of mirrors”, change with the slightest movement.”(3) However, Levy ultimately recalls Borowczyk’s own instructions when translating his writing; “Do it exactly as I wrote it, he said.”(3)

Described by Mandiargues as being “rather reminiscent of German romanticism and also to some extent of American and English stories”(1), the influence of Mandiargues himself is also felt throughout Anatomy of the Devil. Mandiargues scholar David J. Bond wrote in his 1982 study on Mandiargues that Mandiargues’ fiction inhabits “a world of fantasy where the rules of the everyday no longer apply and where anything may happen.”(4) Borowczyk’s short fiction of Anatomy of the Devil occupies a similar realm of inexplicable surreality, seemingly drifting in and out of fantasy and at times even time travel. The actual writing techniques of Mandiargues and Borowczyk however are quite different, with Mandiargues having developed a highly lyrical, almost rhythmic prose style. By contrast, Borowczyk’s translated prose reads much more direct and casual even when indulging in recherché references and fastastical absurdities resembling at times the same matter-of-fact flights of fancy in the writings of Shūji Terayama [iv]. Borowczyk’s writing is similarly defined by its humor. Typically dry and absurdist, many of the stories in Anatomy of the Devil read as if they were long form private jokes of Borowczyk’s, Levy even stating the stores showcase “the wit that is the gift of a more private Boro.”(3) The second story in the collection for instance, “The Golden Room”, a favorite of Mandiargues in the “manner in which it mingles fable with the story of the liberation of the United States through the defeat of the English armies in 1783”(1) indeed finds Borowczyk’s crafting a tall tale of historically-rooted nonsense. Adopting the guise of a traveling historian, Levy also revealing Borowczyk’s obsession with the Mississippi River region of America (5), the tale grows increasingly nonsensical with Borowczyk’s telling of the fictitious Red Spider Hotel turning into the recounting of the case of “Hard Beehive”, allusions to “the famous architect Henry Hoover”, voyeurism and even mind-control.

“The Beauty of the Disorient Express” highlights even more of Borowczyk’s wit. Spending a portion of story’s three pages playing word games based around the etymology of the name “Isabelle de Bisanti” (“Bis. Bi. Two times. Double. And: Anti? Santi?… Isabelle. Isa… “belle”), the subject of the word game ultimately revealing names to be frivolous in the face of a sexual encounter; “No matter, she says.” Evoking the Roman poet Ovid, the central figure in Borowczyk’s film The Art of Love (Ars amandi, 1983) the story also contains a closing nod to the One Thousand and One Nights fairy tales, the basis for Borowczyk’s “L’Experte Halima” episode of Série rose which featured Mandiargues’ daughter Sibylle. Other trickery is found at the end of “Manuscript Found in a Briefcase”, Borowczyk inverting an explicit section of text making it illegible unless held in front of a mirror. Written in the form of a diary, Borowczyk illustrates “Manuscript Found in a Briefcase” with a pulverograph of a childhood photo of himself, taking the role of Victor, the young narrator of the tale. The collection’s titular story “Anatomy of the Devil”, one of the shortest at only two pages, reads like a warped children’s story as Borowczyk tells of “Olaf Rat-Tail” the postman, concluding that the story “inevitably raises the lingering and parallel question that has been gnawing at humankind ever since the birth of the controversy regarding the sex of the angels: the anatomy of the Devil… Does he have a tail in front or behind?” “How about you? Have you seen it?” Borowczyk asks, a pulverograph of a devil drawing revealing the Devil’s tail to be in front just as the story asserts. Decidedly more adult in nature, “The Inheritance” is another brisk, two page irreverent account of a leather trunk containing a wooden dildo remaining unclaimed for a century. As seen in the accompanying pulverograph, the compromising object is also found in Borowczyk’s Mandiargues-narrated short film A Private Collection (Une collection particuliere, 1973) alongside several of Borowczyk’s other wood sculptures.

“The Ear, Signed Vincent”, the final story in the collection and one to curiously not be illustrated with a pulverograph, is also the most fantastical featuring the aforementioned time travel. Named in reference to Vincent van Gogh’s ear-slicing incident, the story sees van Gogh, following a sullen evening with a prostitute, transport himself from 1800’s Vienna to contemporary Japan only to destroy his own works in the vault of a private collector. Originally featured in a 1990 issue of Vogue Paris (2), “The Gold Washers” begins in the typically bemusing fashion as many other stories in the book, it being the tale of young gold prospector “Bob Beard”, envy of all other prospectors, ultimately revealed to be a beautiful woman. The story also more than hints at horror on occasion, firstly upon the revelation of Bob Beard’s gender, Borowczyk’s writing in this instance actually resembling Mandiargues as well as Alain Robbe-Grillet as Bob Beard is sadistically fashioned to a steel bed by her captain, Borowczyk meticulously detailing the “tightly buckled belts” and the “crank that raises by twenty centimeters that part of the bed situated under the belly...” “The Gold Washers” also recalls the closing “Marie” segment in Borowczyk’s anthology film Immoral Women (Les héroïnes du mal, 1979) as a doberman plays the savior of Bob Beard just as the titular Marie of the Immoral Women segment is rescued from kidnappers by her own savior doberman. However, Ruffalo, the hero doberman of “The Gold Washers” is considerably more aggressive than his counterpart in Immoral Women. Embracing horror again, Borowczyk is quite unflinching in the gruesome description of the dog’s attack on his own captain as it “sinks the teeth of its powerful jaws into his throat.” “He holds firm for a long time” the story continues, the “final phase” of the dogs duty being to “shake the head of the enemy”, Bob Beard finally awakened by the captain’s skull hitting the floor.

“Blessed Povernia, Patron of Wicked Little Girls”, the Venice-set story which opens the collection wherein a child predator is outwitted and led to his death by the object of his perverted pursuit also recalls Immoral Women somewhat, chiefly the “Margherita” segment with its use of a trap door. The story is illustrated however with a pulverograph from Borowczyk’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Miss Osboune (Le cas etrange du Dr. Jekyll and Miss Osboune, 1981) representing a twist in the story among other imagery including a dustograph fascinatingly sourced from Emmanuelle 5 (1987). Considered a Borowczyk film in name only, the pulverograph accompanying “Blessed Povernia, Patron of Wicked Little Girls” is a shot of the aftermath of the film’s plane crash scene which, as Bird points out, photographic evidence exists of Borowczyk’s participation in the preparation of said sequence (2). The tale in the book which most explicitly evokes Borowczyk’s film work is “Ralph Krutmann”, the story being a literal re-telling of Borowczyk’s final animated short Scherzo infernal (Infernal Symphony, 1984) illustrated with film still pulverographs from said short. Borowczyk re-frames the story however, adopting the guise of “V.B.” and writing the Scherzo infernal plot in the form of a libretto for an opera, addressing an unnamed maestro in a prescript. The title of the story, “Ralph Krutmann”, appears to be another gift from the more private Boro’s wit that Levy spoke of with Borowczyk, writing as “V.B.” in the aforementioned prescript “This is not about vengeance, but I see Ralph Krutmann playing the role of Filth…” Filth being the patriarch of a family of devil’s residing below the Earth in the tale. However, a postscript, written again as “V.B.”, humorously suggests “Wouldn’t it be better if it were God who is played by Ralph Krutmann? What do you think, Maestro? That way, Krutmann will experience torture!”

Although Anatomy of the Devil was to be Borowczyk’s lone work in the literary medium, Borowczyk had ambitions to continue working with the written word with a planned novel on Nefertiti when efforts to use Anatomy of the Devil as the basis for a TV series led to dead ends (2). The ancient Egyptian queen was to be the subject of a feature film from Borowczyk, though much like the what-could-have-been “Ancestral Mansion” set to star Kate Bush and Terence Stamp with Borowczyk behind the camera and Borowczyk’s biopic on the Marquis de Sade, the envisioned Nefertiti film went unrealized. Borowczyk did however shop the Nefertiti book idea around according to Bird, who wrote that Borowczyk sold the book as a “historical epic, somewhere between Howard Carter, the Egyptologist who unearthed Tutankhamun, with Margaret Mitchell, author of Gone With the Wind.”(2) Borowczyk’s continued workings in printing would result in another book baring Borowczyk’s authorship. However, the resulting book, Dumb Animals (Les bêtes sont-elles bêtes?), described by Bird as “a bestiary of sorts made up of watercolours and simple text”(2) and advertised by publisher Le Chineur Éditions as Borowczyk’s “first children’s book”(6), would be published posthumously in 2015 nearly a decade after Borowczyk’s death, the project remaining “completed but neither designed nor printed”(2) prior to Borowczyk’s 2006 passing. Borowczyk’s autobiography Co myślę patrząc na rozebraną Polkę (What I Think When I See a Polish Girl Undressed), written in Polish, was similarly given a posthumous publication in 2008.

Anatomy of the Devil was initially published in 1992 in two distinct French editions with the “standard” being published by Editions Belfond (2). The pulverographs however were unique to what Mandiargues called “luxury editions”(1) published by Borowczyk himself under his “Allegro Productions”(2). However, as Bird notes, “The Ear, Signed Vincent” was absent from Borowczyk’s own edition (2). Ligia Branice, Borowczyk’s wife and collaborator would later co-translate a version of Anatomy of the Devil for Borowczyk’s home country of Poland, Bird also noting Mandiargues’s preface was subtracted while an afterward from Borowczyk was added to the Polish edition (2). Released in 2014, “Camera Obscura: The Walerian Borowczyk Collection”, a five-disc set from Arrow Films via the Arrow Academy imprint featuring Borowczyk’s shorts and animations, Goto, Island of Love (Goto, l’île d’amour, 1968), Blanche (1971), Immoral Tales (Contes immoraux, 1973) and The Beast (La bête, 1975) also featured the first English publication of Anatomy of the Devil complete with pulverographs. In July of 2022, independent Detroit-based publishing house Rotland Press debuted the first English stand-alone edition of Anatomy of the Devil. An ultimate edition of sorts sans Borowczyk’s afterward from the Polish edition, the Rotland edition contains the pulverographs, Mandiargues’ preface as well as two introductory essays; the first being Daniel Bird’s account of the book’s publication history as well as the origins of the pulverographs and translator Michael Levy’s note on the translation [v]. A bonus interview with Levy also gives invaluable insight into the more private Boro’s personality and working methods, making the book an essential showcase of Borowczyk’s adaptability to any genre or medium.

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