Books in Translation

The Man with the Compound Eyes – Wu Ming-Yi

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If the term magical realism creates a false subset of modernism, what is to stop cli-fi from functioning in a similar way?

Triangle – Hisaki Matsuura

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It becomes quickly obvious that a lot of this book’s psychic energy is dedicated to a fear of women.

The Gray Notebook – Josep Pla

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I feel like cardboard. My God! Vice leaves a bitter taste. Virtue brings sweet consolation. Alcohol does me untold damage . . . but I am always so thirsty!

Women Who Make A Fuss – Isabelle Stengers & Vinciane Despret

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What is the value of walking soberly and honorably to the guillotine? Why not cry and scream all the way there?

Amara Lakhous

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There are sociologists and anthropologists who can do a great job of describing Italy. They have data, theories, studies, statistics. But a writer arrives at it through language and describes the society that is emerging through language.

Flametti, or the Dandyism of the Poor – Hugo Ball

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It is not often I read a novel so enthusiastic and unconstrained (and so funny) in its use of language and in its building of worlds.

Europe in Sepia – Dubravka Ugresic

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Ugresic is not interested in declaring the present to be exceptionally hopeful or hopeless. She’s interested, rather, in talking about the particularity of now as it scrambles out of the past and lurches towards the future.

Marta Oulie – Sigrid Undset

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Marta Oulie provides a stark, yet personal addition to the conversations of early 20th century Western women writers such as Virginia Woolf and Kate Chopin.

Storm Still – Peter Handke

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It is not uncommon in discussions of Peter Handke’s work for both Handke and literary critics to refer to a “text” of his rather than to a novel, a play, or a memoir.

The Whole of Life – Jürg Laederach

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Never before have I spent so long reading and re-reading a novel’s first page, trying to make sense of it. Already, I’d been tricked.