This week is probably going to be another slow one for Three Percent, but for good reason. Bragi Olafsson is in town and we’ve stacked up a number of events and readings, beginning tonight. Here’s his official schedule:
Reading and Discussion on
Monday, October 6th, 8pm
Karpeles Manuscript Library
220 North St.
Reading the World Conversation Series
with Bragi and Lytton Smith
Tuesday, October 7th, 6pm
Rush Rhees Library
University of Rochester
(Tuesday morning we’ll also be on WHAM 13 again, which we’ll post as soon as possible. I’m convinced that this is the only TV in America that has had literary authors from Croatia and Iceland on their morning program in one month.)
Bragi Olafsson and Dubravka Ugresic
Wednesday, October 8th, 7pm
52 Prince St.
New York, NY
Idlewild Lunchtime Series: Bragi Olafsson
Thursday, October 9th, 12:30 PM
12 W 19th St. (near 5th Ave.)
New York, NY
Bragi Olafsson in conversation with Mark Binelli
Thursday, October 9th, 7 pm
536 West 112th St.
New York, NY
Bragi Olafsson and Bill Holm
Saturday, October 11th
Twin Cities Book Festival
Minneapolis Community & Technical College
Reading and Discussion with Bragi
Tuesday, October 14th, 7:30 pm
Elliot Bay Book Co.
101 South Main St.
The publisher’s blurb for Oleg Pavlov’s The Matiushin Case promises the prospective reader “a Crime and Punishment for today,” the sort of comparison that is almost always guaranteed to do a disservice to both the legendary dead and the ambitious. . .
One hundred years have passed since the start of World War I and it is difficult to believe that there are still novels, considered classics in their own countries, that have never been published in English. Perhaps it was the. . .
In the London of Hédi Kaddour’s Little Grey Lies, translated by Teresa Lavender Fagan, peace has settled, but the tensions, fears, and anger of the Great War remain, even if tucked away behind stories and lies. Directly ahead, as those. . .
One of the greatest services—or disservices, depending on your viewpoint—Bertrand Russell ever performed for popular philosophy was humanizing its biggest thinkers in his History. No longer were they Platonic ideals, the clean-shaven exemplars of the kind of homely truisms that. . .
The best way to review Alejandra Pizarnik’s slim collection, A Musical Hell, published by New Directions as part of their Poetry Pamphlet series, is to begin by stating that it is poetry with a capital P: serious, dense, and, some. . .
Upon completing Albertine Sarrazin’s Astragal I was left to wonder why it ever fell from print. Aside from the location, Astragal could pass as the great American novel. Its edginess and rawness capture the angst and desires we all had. . .
When my eyes first crossed the back cover of Fabio Genovesi’s novel Live Bait, I was caught by a blurb nestled between accolades, a few words from a reviewer for La Repubblica stating that the novel was, however magically, “[b]eyond. . .
“I preferred the war to the plague,” writes Curzio Malaparte in his 1949 novel, The Skin. He speaks of World War II and the destruction it has wrought on Italy, the city of Naples in particular. But the plague he. . .
With the steady rise of feminist scholarship and criticism in recent decades, it is little wonder that the work of Louise Labé should be attracting, as Richard Sieburth tells us in the Afterword to his translation, a “wide and thriving”. . .
In Conversations, we find ourselves again in the protagonist’s conscious and subconscious, which is mostly likely that of Mr. César Aira and consistent with prototypical Aira style. This style never fails because each time Aira is able to develop a. . .