I’m Sarah Winstein-Hibbs – nicknamed “quantum Sarah” by Chad, who thinks my weird hyphenated last name sounds like some kind of subatomic particle – and I’m an English Literature major at University of Rochester. I’m interning at Open Letter this summer, so I’ll be posting on threepercent throughout June, July, and August. I had the great opportunity to write an upcoming review Liliana Heker’s The End of the Story, a shocking novel on the atrocity of the Argentinian Dirty War. Also watch for a joint review I’m writing with with super awesome co-star Sarah Young, on Italian novelist Alessandro Baricco’s haunting and lyrical new work, Emmaus.
A little bit about me: I love the arts, I love learning about different cultures, I love reading and writing and playing flute. I got interested in Open Letter when I took International Fiction last semester and read Kafka, Borges, Marquez, Nabokov, and Calvino. I’ve also studied Spanish literature and language, so Open Letter speaks to my interests in that regard, as well. Speaking of which, my big summer project will be reading and reviewing a forthcoming anthology of Spanish literature, featuring both renowned and newly-acclaimed authors. In the music realm, I’m a performer and avid fan of classical music. I also serve as co-artistic director for an exciting new project called Sound ExChange Orchestra, an innovative ensemble dedicated to the proliferation of classical music in contemporary American society (click here to read more!) I’m super excited to be involved in Open Letter this summer and am looking forward to sharing lots of good reads and good conversation with you all!
Kamal Jann by the Lebanese born author Dominique Eddé is a tale of familial and political intrigue, a murky stew of byzantine alliances, betrayals, and hostilities. It is a well-told story of revenge and, what’s more, a serious novel that. . .
While looking back at an episode in his life, twenty-year-old Taguchi Hiro remembers what his friend Kumamoto Akira said about poetry.
Its perfection arises precisely from its imperfection . . . . I have an image in my head. I see. . .
The central concern of Sorj Chalandon’s novel Return to Killybegs appears to be explaining how a person of staunch political activism can be lead to betray his cause, his country, his people. Truth be told, the real theme of the. . .
Spoiler alert: acclaimed writer Stefan Zweig and his wife Lotte kill themselves at the end of Lauren Seksik’s 2010 novel, The Last Days.
It’s hard to avoid spoiling this mystery. Zweig’s suicide actually happened, in Brazil in 1942, and since then. . .
To call Kjell Askildsen’s style sparse or terse would be to understate just how far he pushes his prose. Almost nothing is explained, elaborated on. In simple sentences, events occur, words are exchanged, narrators have brief thoughts. As often as. . .
After a mysterious woman confesses to an author simply known as “R” that she has loved him since she was a teenager, she offers the following explanation: “There is nothing on earth like the love of a child that passes. . .
Floating around the internet amid the hoopla of a new Haruki Murakami release, you may have come across a certain Murakami Bingo courtesy of Grant Snider. It is exactly what it sounds like, and it’s funny because it’s true,. . .
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. . .