Info about the first three books from the spring 2009 Open Letter list can be found here. Today we’re covering our June title, Rupert: A Confession by Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer.
The premise of this book is that Rupert has been accused of a terrible crime (which isn’t revealed in full until the very end) and has to defend himself. His defense—or imagined defense—is a very lively, hilarious affair, that relies more on rhetorical tricks than facts to get him off the hook.
As a novel, Rupert is more emotionally complicated than it first appears. As you can see in the attached excerpt, Rupert has a very vibrant voice—one that draws the reader in almost immediately. Along the way though, it becomes crystal clear that Rupert is way unhinged and probably quite dangerous. Reconciling these two points of view is tricky, especially since the book is very compelling, and as the final “reveal” of the crime itself and Rupert’s relation to it starts to come clear, it’s like watching a train wreck . . .
Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer seems like quite a character. And one of the reasons I wanted to write this today is because he’s now mired in yet another controversy.
According to the translator of this novel—Michele Hutchison, who, in addition to translating, works for the Dutch publisher De Arbeiderspers—told me that for the back cover of his Collected Poems, Ilja wanted to include a naked photo of himself. That’s all fine and good, but Ilja was on the longlist to be next year’s Poet Laureate . . . up until news of this naked photo broke. He was recently kicked out of the competition and the infamous photo has created quite a bit of media buzz.
And here I thought the Netherlands were supposed to be so liberal and open-minded . . .
Randall Jarrell once argued a point that I will now paraphrase and, in doing so, over-simplify: As a culture, we need book criticism, not book reviews. I sort of agree, but let’s not get into all of that. Having finished. . .
Like any good potboiler worth its salt, Fuminori Nakamura’s The Gun wastes no time setting up its premise: “Last night, I found a gun. Or you could say I stole it, I’m not really sure. I’ve never seen something so. . .
Heiner Resseck, the protagonist in Monika Held’s thought-provoking, first novel, This Place Holds No Fear, intentionally re-lives his past every hour of every day. His memories are his treasures, more dear than the present or future. What wonderful past eclipses. . .
If you’ve ever worked in a corporate office, you’ve likely heard the phrase, “Perception is reality.” To Björn, the office worker who narrates Jonas Karlsson’s novel The Room, the reality is simple: there’s a door near the bathroom that leads. . .
I recently listened to Three Percent Podcast #99, which had guest speaker Julia Berner-Tobin from Feminist Press. In addition to the usual amusement of finally hearing both sides of the podcast (normally I just hear parts of Chad’s side. . .
Let’s not deceive ourselves, man is nothing very special. In fact, there are so many of us that our governments don’t know what to do with us at all. Six billion humans on the planet and only six or seven. . .
“Rambling Jack—what’s that?”
“A novel. Novella, I guess.”
“Yeah, it looks short. What is it, a hundred pages?”
“Sorta. It’s a duel language book, so really, only about… 50 pages total.”
“And this—what. . .
Many authors are compared to Roberto Bolaño. However, very few authors have the privilege of having a Roberto Bolaño quote on the cover of their work; and at that, one which states, “Good readers will find something that can be. . .
In Josep Maria de Sagarra’s Private Life, a man harangues his friend about literature while walking through Barcelona at night:
When a novel states a fact that ties into another fact and another and another, as the chain goes on. . .
César Aira dishes up an imaginative parable on how identity shapes our sense of belonging with Dinner, his latest release in English. Aira’s narrator (who, appropriately, remains nameless) is a self-pitying, bitter man—in his late fifties, living again with. . .