2010 Subscriptions to Ugly Duckling Presse are now available. They limit the total number of subscribers to 200 and usually sell out pretty quickly, so act fast. There are three levels of subscriber/donors:
At the BASIC SUBSCRIBER level ($150) you receive more than 20 books throughout the year, sent directly to your home, including new works of poetry, essays, and artist books by emerging and established writers and artists; and these books are all uniquely designed, with frequent use of letterpress, hand-sewn binding, and more, demonstrating “a philosophical curiosity about what makes a book a book” (Michael Miller, Time Out New York); and you get all this at COST, meaning the most affordable possible rate available to mankind today for providing you with great books.
At the SUPPORTING SUBSCRIBER level ($250), you receive the full subscription package described above, plus an invitation to a special UDP authors reception, to be held in Spring 2010, a unique opportunity to meet the writers, editors, designers, and board members who contribute their talents; and you receive credit for your meaningful contribution on our online list of supporters.
At the COLLECTOR’S CIRCLE level ($1,000), all of the above benefits, plus a new benefit for our highest level supporters: a one-of-a-kind book, designed and written by the UDP collective, printed and assembled at the UDP workshop, and personalized for the recipient; donors at this level are also credited on the acknowledgments page in the UDP print catalogue.
UDP does some excellent works of poetry in translation, and overall has really excellent production values. Definitely worth at least $150 . . .
Many of Virginie Despentes’s books revolve around the same central idea: “To be born a woman [is] the worst fate in practically every society.” But this message is nearly always packaged in easy-to-read books that fill you with the pleasure. . .
Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer’s La Superba is appropriately titled after the Italian city of Genoa, where, after escaping the pressures of fame in his own country, the semi-autobiographical narrator finds himself cataloguing the experiences of its mesmerizing inhabitants with the intention. . .
It took reading 44 pages of Intervenir/Intervene before I began to get a sense of what Dolores Dorantes and Rodrigo Flores Sánchez were up to. Recurring throughout these 44 pages—throughout the entire book—are shovels, shovel smacks to the face, lobelias—aha!. . .
As presaged by its title, contradiction is the theme of Peter Stamm’s novel, All Days Are Night. Gillian, a well-known television personality, remains unknowable to herself. And Hubert, a frustrated artist and Gillian’s lover, creates art through the process of. . .
It’s a rare and wonderful book that begins and ends with violence and humor. At the start of Etgar Keret’s The Seven Good Years, Keret is in a hospital waiting for the birth of his first child while nurses, in. . .
Last year, Han Kang’s The Vegetarian was an unexpected critical hit. Now, it’s just been published in the U.S. and has already received a great deal of positive critical attention. The Vegetarian was a bold book to attempt as an. . .
It’s been almost a year since the publication of Nowhere to Be Found by Bae Suah, but despite being included on the 2015 PEN Translation award longlist, and some pretty vocal support from key indie presses, the book has. . .
Jorge Eduardo Benavides’ novel La paz de los vencidos (The Peace of the Defeated) takes the form of a diary written by a nameless Peruvian thirty-something intellectual slumming it in Santa Cruz de Tenerife in Spain’s Canary Islands. Recently relocated. . .
Anyone with any interest at all in contemporary Moroccan writing must start with Souffles. A cultural and political journal, Souffles (the French word for “breaths”) was founded in 1966 by Abdellatif Laâbi and Mostafa Nissabouri. Run by a group of. . .
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. . .