Books in Translation

My Heart Hemmed In – Marie NDiaye

NDiaye, who is half French and half Senegalese, drains the narrative of the usual markers of identity, leaving behind elemental psychological processes and beguiling allusions.

Autopsy of a Father – Pascale Kramer

What Kramer depicts is the resulting virus of hate that infects not only victims and the oppressed, but perpetrators, the oppressors, and their families.

Odd Jobs and District – Tony Duvert

Duvert creates a world in which economic necessity and the demands of labor produce desire and sexuality — in other words, a world quite similar to our own.

Incest – Christine Angot

Performative writing promises no buttoned-up endings, no achievement of perfection. It refutes the notion of a progression, of a moving forward, the reaching of a completed end-point.

Being Here is Everything – Marie Darrieussecq

How can a biography of any woman not be about her sad fucking life?

I Am the Brother of XX – Fleur Jaeggy

The private self will not be saved by rationality.

The Last Wolf & Herman – László Krasznahorkai

If Bernhard was, however reductive the term, the Alpen-Beckett (Beckett of the Alps), then László Krasznahorkai might in turn be called the Alföld-Bernhard, the Bernhard of the Great Hungarian Plain.

Go, Went, Gone – Jenny Erpenbeck

A system that uses and relies on lists and numbers never can account for lives, but only for bodies — dead or alive.

August – Romina Paula

The toggling between and stacking up of intensifiers and alternatives vividly brands the narrative of August with a symbol of equivocation and transition.

Fog – Miguel de Unamuno

When we die, we all become fictional characters.