Our next GoodReads Giveaway just went live—we’re going to be giving away 15 copies of Quim Monzó’s latest collection, A Thousand Morons. And not just that, we’re going to include a “Thousand Morons” t-shirt with each copy of the book . . .
(Speaking of our fantastic t-shirts, we’re going to start shipping these out en masse after Thanksgiving, so if you want one, simply buy a copy of the book and we’ll include it with your order. On a personal note, this has become my lucky t-shirt, and if you ever see me out at a bar watching a soccer match—like I will on Sunday when the Seattle Sounders will stage an amazing comeback and destroy the Galaxy—I’ll probably be wearing a bright orange t-shirt with a red bra on it. SEXY!)
Anyway, here’s what Publishers Weekly had to say about this collection in their STARRED REVIEW:
The latest from Catalan author Quim Monzó (Guadalajara) is a slender yet brilliant collection of stories that subvert the expected, embrace absurdity, and add profundity to the mundane. [. . .] Split into two parts—one containing longer prose, the other, flash fiction—and beautifully translated, Monzó’s 19 tales succeed so completely thanks to their curious view of the everyday. His is a world in which men become lost in existential thought while glancing out a window, where the Virgin Mary chooses to not bear a child, and where moments of hearty belly laughter are often trailed by gasps of horror.
So, enter below to try and win yourself a copy. (Or just buy it—it’s only $10.35, which is approximately half of a Starbucks coffee, and a thousand times as moron-y.)
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. . .