This week, the fifth New Literature from Europe with a special focus on graphic novels:
Celebrating its fifth anniversary, the literary series New Literature from Europe this year takes on the burgeoning world of graphic novels. Graphic Novels from Europe presents five days of discussions, exhibits and book signings, to take place in New York from November 17 to November 21, 2008.
Please join us to meet artists Jaromír Švejdík aka Jaromir 99 and Jaroslav Rudiš (Czech Republic), David B. and Nicolas De Crécy (France), Isabel Kreitz (Germany), Igort (Italy) and Max (Spain).
The first discussion took place yesterday, but there are still a number of interesting events on the schedule, including a book signing and presentation on Thursday at the Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art and a discussion with Nicolas de Crecy on Friday at the Maison Française.
I don’t know much—or anything—about European graphic novels, but I’m always impressed by the this New European Lit festival that the Goethe-Institut New York, Istituto Italiano di Cultura, Cultural Services of the French Embassy, Instituto Cervantes, and Czech Center New York put together. It’s an admirable undertaking, and a nice festival to tide everyone over until PEN World Voices.
There’s little to say about a series of prose poems that willfully refuse to identify pronoun antecedents. Or perhaps there are a million things. The poems in _Morse, My Deaf Friend_— the chapbook by Miloš Djurdjević published by Ugly Duckling. . .
The Crimson Thread of Abandon is the first collection of short fiction available in English by the prolific Japanese writer and all-around avant-garde trickster Terayama Shūji, who died in 1983 at the age of 47. This collection would be important. . .
Last year, NYRB Classics introduced English-language readers to Catalan writer Josep Pla with Peter Bush’s translation of The Gray Notebook. In that book, Pla wrote about life in Spain during an influenza outbreak soon after World War I, when. . .
“Your bile is stagnant, you see sorrow in everything, you are drenched in melancholy,” my friend the doctor said.
bq. “Isn’t melancholy something from previous centuries? Isn’t some vaccine against it yet, hasn’t medicine taken care of it yet?” I. . .
What to make of Vano and Niko, the English translation of Erlom Akhvlediani’s work of the same name, as well as the two other short books that comprise a sort of trilogy? Quick searches will inform the curious reader that. . .
The opening of Jón Gnarr’s novel/memoir The Indian is a playful bit of extravagant ego, telling the traditional story of creation, where the “Let there be light!” moment is also the moment of his birth on January 2nd, 1967. Then. . .
Mahasweta Devi is not only one of the most prolific Bengali authors, but she’s also an important activist. In fact, for Devi, the two seem to go together. As you can probably tell from the titles, she writes about women. . .
The prolific Spanish author Benito Pérez Galdós wrote his short novel, Tristana, during the closing years of the nineteenth century, a time when very few options were available to women of limited financial means who did not want a husband.. . .
Pedro Zarraluki’s The History of Silence (trans. Nick Caistor and Lorenza García) begins with the narrator and his wife, Irene, setting out to write a book about silence, itself called The History of Silence: “This is the story of how. . .
There are plenty of reasons you can fail to find the rhythm of a book. Sometimes it’s a matter of discarding initial assumptions or impressions, sometimes of resetting oneself. Zigmunds Skujiņš’s Flesh-Coloured Dominoes was a defining experience in the necessity. . .