Any assessment of a Janice Lee work must start with her glorious prose. Sentences unspool at leisure, sometimes running a page or more, filled with woAny assessment of a Janice Lee work must start with her glorious prose. Sentences unspool at leisure, sometimes running a page or more, filled with wonderful complexity, but also with an earthiness that grounds the work in the here and now. There is such an attention to corporal detail that the experience of reading this is almost meditative. Most fiction writers today are descended from mid-20th century stylists (think: Hemingway) whose short, crisp sentences have trained readers to read in a certain way. There's nothing wrong with short sentences. But as Lee has pointed out in interviews, we do not naturally think in short, complete sentences. Lee is on record as an admirer of László Krasznahorkai, a writer who is also known for his lava-like, flowing prose. Imagine a Death takes some of its cues from Krasznahorkai's early novels, including an apocalyptic tone, which in Lee's hands may either be the near-future or indeed the present. We follow three human characters and a host of others as they move through this loosely plotted work. Everyone who reads this book will surely have a favorite chapter or passage - mine is Chapter 37, which is so achingly beautiful and finely crafted that it could be poetry. At its core, Imagine a Death is about embodied imagination: the experience of inhabiting the bodies of the characters as they move through grief, loss, and the challenges of living in a dying world....more
Léonora Miano may be the most necessary writer working today, returning again and again to the consequences of the Transatlantic Slave Trade and colonLéonora Miano may be the most necessary writer working today, returning again and again to the consequences of the Transatlantic Slave Trade and colonialism, with a clear understanding for how those forces shape the modern world - a world defined by racism, patriarchy, and a neo-colonialism woven into the fabric of our lives under the banner of global capitalism. Seagull Books has been slowly bringing Miano's work into English, first with the 2018 publication of Season of the Shadow (La Saison de l'ombre) - one of the greatest works yet of this century - and now with the first volume of the two-volume Twilight of Torment (Crépuscule du tourment). This volume is a series of four monologues: the speakers are four women of African descent who are speaking to a man who is not present. The four women have various relationships with the man and come from different social stations. Miano's decision to have four women speaking to a man who is not there is pregnant with meaning. Each woman speaks about her life, her struggles, her dreams - but the women all seem to understand themselves in relation to the man and, by extension, the world that was created for the man. A number of themes are explored, from the scars of the colonial era, to domestic violence, to sex (and finding fulfillment in a same-sex relationship), to economic power disparities. Each monologue is different in tone and style from the others, yet together they form a coherence that highlights the secondary position of the women, as they themselves perhaps understand subconsciously. This in turn mirrors the way Africa is positioned with respect to the rest of the world. The women experience joy and hope, yet it is a joy and hope forever constrained by circumstances. Gila Walker's translation nicely captures the tones and textures of the four speakers. This is not a typical novel with plot and story beats, but rather a searing high-concept fictional work that cuts to the heart of what it means to be African, and a woman of African descent, today....more
This is just a stunning work, featuring some of the most evocative prose I've read. The tone is one of lamentation, taking fate as its starting point,This is just a stunning work, featuring some of the most evocative prose I've read. The tone is one of lamentation, taking fate as its starting point, and weaving a story so disarmingly beautiful that it's breathtaking. The principal character is Cassandra, of Homeric fame, reborn as Raúl in the city of Cienfuegos a decade after the Cuban Revolution. Raúl is seen as an effeminate boy, condemned to being misunderstood by family and tormented by peers, sent off to die on African soil during Cuba's involvement in the Angolan Civil War. It is a mistake, I think, to make a definitive statement about this reincarnation, whether it's real or imagined, or to affix labels onto the characters. The book is not about the experience of being trans or nonbinary per se, but rather an exploration of what it means to live a life where one's tragedy is preordained, using a character who may be trans or nonbinary or effeminate to ground that experience. The story also explores how we deal with grief and loss, using other people as a vessel for our unhappiness. In structural terms, this reads more like an epic poem than a novel, almost like an episode from The Iliad, as linear stories proceed on multiple planes at once, weaving in and out of each other like a mournful dance. Originally published in 2019 as Llámenme Casandra, Anna Kushner's translation from Marcial Gala's original is exquisite....more
Reading Valli was truly a singular experience. The word valli (വള്ള� in the original Malayalam) has multiple meanings - vine, wages, land, young womanReading Valli was truly a singular experience. The word valli (വള്ള� in the original Malayalam) has multiple meanings - vine, wages, land, young woman - each of which is explored through the many layers of this novel. Set in Sheela Tomy's native Wayanad, a region tucked into the northeast corner of Kerala, up in the Western Ghats, Valli explores the dual exploitations of the forested land and the indigenous Adavasi peoples who are native to the region. This is a story with sweeping ambition, weaving elements of indigenous folklore, Keralan mythology, liberation theology, the Naxalite movement, and our ongoing climate crisis. This wide scope succeeds in part because Tomy grounds the story in the experience of one family, migrants to the region, letting the tale unfold across several generations. Much of the story is told through letters and journal entries, which adds a further layer to the narrative because it allows us to read the account of one generation filtered through the experience of a later generation. This is a story with many heroes but also many villains, showing how multiple forces combine to create a network of exploitation that lacks a simple cause or solution. There is a subtle feminist undertone as well, with the story largely told from the perspective of nuanced female characters. Valli is translated by the award-winning Jayasree Kalathil, who brings the lyricism of the original into English, utilizing some of the original vocabulary to retain a Malayalam texture. Notes from both Tomy and Kalathil conclude the volume, helpfully situating the reader in the text....more
As an artist, Steven J. Fowler is operating on a different level than everyone else. His work transcends disciplines and, although still in his 30s, FAs an artist, Steven J. Fowler is operating on a different level than everyone else. His work transcends disciplines and, although still in his 30s, Fowler has published over ten volumes of poetry, written two full length plays, and contributed work to countless collaborations and other projects, including performance, visual art, sound poetry, and fiction. Much of his recent poetry has moved toward the asemic; the bibliography on his website lists his recent poetic work under the heading "Art Books." It is no surprise then that MUEUM, his first novel, is not a traditional novel - and what a wild ride it is. A surface reading yields an allegorical story about a museum which exists after a cataclysmic event has dislodged social memory from the time before the event so that the objects in the museum no longer hold context or traditional meaning. The story is narrated by one of the guards who is guarding . . . no one knows what exactly, and certainly not why. Formally, MUEUM is cutting edge avant garde fiction that exists in conversation with theorists and artists alike. Fowler uses the work as a vehicle to play with the semantics of fiction. Just as objects in a museum lose meaning when divorced from context, so also does a word, sentence, or paragraph lose meaning when traditional narrative is interrupted. The reading experience is not unlike viewing a work of visual art that deconstructs the meaning of visual art itself. Highly fascinating for those keen on the experience....more
I am, well, a fan of this one. Sheena Patel has written a scorching social critique that touches on male entitlement, social media fixation, asymmetriI am, well, a fan of this one. Sheena Patel has written a scorching social critique that touches on male entitlement, social media fixation, asymmetrical relationships, and the patriarchal (and racist) social structure that holds it all in place. The story takes its cues from the bevy of books featuring a messy millennial protagonist who doesn't quite have their life together, struggling against a system that locks them out of the material standing older generations took for granted. But where Patel departs from other books of this type is with a move away from the narrative of personal struggle to one focused on systems. Patel's narrator is self-aware from the start. She knows exactly what she is up against and isn’t distracted by personal failings even when engaging in what an older paradigm might call self-destructive behavior. The change she calls for isn't about personal growth, but instead a structural upending of a toxic online and irl culture. The most powerful passages lift the lid on the fictional story to speak directly and candidly. This is I suspect a harbinger of a new type of fiction, one that cares less about story beats, character arcs, and buried themes - and is more explicitly political with urgency and clarity. In this way and others, Patel eschews a traditional narrative arc, departing from the received novel form in important ways to make this all the more radical. Published by Rough Trade Books, I read this last summer when it was still under the radar. It's been exciting to watch it catch on with a larger audience....more
This book is a masterpiece of storytelling. The Iliac Crest is a surrealist tale by Mexican author Cristina Rivera Garza, translated by Sarah Booker aThis book is a masterpiece of storytelling. The Iliac Crest is a surrealist tale by Mexican author Cristina Rivera Garza, translated by Sarah Booker and published by Feminist Press. I'm not sure if I'm capable of summarizing the plot, or whether it would even be helpful if I could, because the magic of the book works on the level of atmosphere and themes. The atmosphere is textbook gothic, using horror as a device to situate the reader but also to prepare them for what is to come. Rivera Garza intriguingly uses a first-person male protagonist, we think, a figure of some authority, whose understanding of the world gradually unravels after the unexpected visit of two women, one of whom we learn is Mexican writer Amparo Davila (unless she isn't). The book explores the transience of seemingly fixed polarities - male/female, north/south, true/false, past/present - as well as the limits of language and the stability of identity itself....more
This is a beautiful and profound work, a meditation during a stalled train journey, weaving back and forth in time, often repeating thoughts and memorThis is a beautiful and profound work, a meditation during a stalled train journey, weaving back and forth in time, often repeating thoughts and memories, rendered for the most part in a single paragraph. This is surely a difficult work to translate, so hats off to Nguyễn An Lý and publishers Tilted Axis and New Directions. The original work was written in 2004 by the Vietnamese writer ճận, a complex exploration of a life in exile, exclusion, displacement, culture, forgiveness, and memory itself. ճận doesn't hold the reader's hand, and neither does Nguyễn, as characters are only obliquely named and the full memories can only be pieced together by reading the repetitions. For those familiar with Marguerite Duras's work, there are nods to Duras throughout this piece. Nguyễn remarks in the translator's note that many readers have found the reading experience to be tedious, which is borne out by some comments on this site. I confess to feeling the same way at times during my first encounter with this, but I recently came back to it with fresh eyes and after a second read I can see how exquisite this truly is. Well worth the effort....more
This one hits hard. Percival Everett is a master stylist, as always, and here he adopts the trappings of detective fiction, coupled with bitingly funnThis one hits hard. Percival Everett is a master stylist, as always, and here he adopts the trappings of detective fiction, coupled with bitingly funny humor, to tell a story about lynching in the United States. Everett makes no bones about the reality of lynching, showing unambiguously that it is an ongoing genocide that didn't stop with the civil rights movement. I found the humorous tone - some of it dark humor; in other places slapstick - to be a stroke of brilliance: the story is told in such a readable way that when the reality of the genocide sets in, it hits hard. Everett has observed that "America has a great talent for hiding its own transgressions" - a comment that very much rings true for me. For many of us who grew up in the United States, lynching is outside the standard history curriculum even though it was - and is - a tool to enforce the racial order. The Trees connects the dots and shows the genocide for what it is. As a reader, this can be a heavy burden. What we do with this knowledge is up to each of us individually, but when the transgressions are no longer hidden, and our complicity in genocide laid bare, we cannot in good conscience do nothing to challenge the system that perpetuates it....more
There is a quiet beauty to The Colony. Audrey Magee's latest novel is set in 1979 on an unnamed island off Ireland's Atlantic coast where traditional There is a quiet beauty to The Colony. Audrey Magee's latest novel is set in 1979 on an unnamed island off Ireland's Atlantic coast where traditional life and language are receding to extinction. With the Troubles at a boiling point on the mainland, the islanders host two summer visitors - one a painter from England, the other a linguist from France. As the title indicates, Magee situates the Troubles within the framework of colonialism and post-colonialism. That framework is gradually revealed as the novel unfolds. Magee's touch is light, letting the reader form their own conclusions about the encroaching violence. What truly elevates The Colony is Magee's magnificent prose and flowing narrative voice, with points of view often shifting within the same sentence or paragraph. The boundary between thought and speech is also permeable, particularly as most characters are multilingual. The form is quietly innovative yet unobtrusive. The characters are nuanced and beautifully drawn. There are many layers to this gorgeous work....more
To call Glory Hole ground-breaking is an understatement. Korean poet Kim Hyun (김�) employs a style all his own - a hybrid of poetry and prose, with paTo call Glory Hole ground-breaking is an understatement. Korean poet Kim Hyun (김�) employs a style all his own - a hybrid of poetry and prose, with paragraphs, dialogue, and footnotes. I read this as a deconstruction of the poetic form, with a particular Korean flavor. The aim of this work is not just deconstruction - it is reconstruction into something new, something thoroughly queer. The result is provocative in the extreme: theme and subject that are graphically queer, performed through a medium that is itself opposed to prevailing heteronormative forms. I hope this work, translated from the original 『글로리홀� by Shuhyun J. Ahn and Archana Madhavan, reaches a larger audience....more
The Doloriad is a remarkable work from Missouri Williams, a hauntingly grotesque novel set in the vicinity of Prague after a cataclysmic event has wipThe Doloriad is a remarkable work from Missouri Williams, a hauntingly grotesque novel set in the vicinity of Prague after a cataclysmic event has wiped out all but a remnant of human life. The remnant is primarily a single family, led by the matriarch, who endeavor to survive through repopulation and the creation of a new society in the matriarch's image. Williams shows humanity at its most depraved, with many of our worst impulses in full display. Reduced to its bare essence, humanity is revealed for what it is, vulgar and ultimately inconsequential. One of the more interesting themes is a commentary on human ethics - and Thomist ethics in particular - as humanity is stripped to its bare existence. Indeed, what is the role of ethics when humanity itself is on the verge of extinction. The prose is remarkable for a debut novel with strong echoes of Krasznahorkai, both formally and thematically. Others have detected passages reminiscent of Thomas Bernhard and parallels to Cormac McCarthy's work. Williams brings those forebears into conversation with more current climate fiction, with an aesthetic that is all her own. Erudite and literary, this is a book that rewards engagement....more
Elena Knows is the first work by Claudia Piñeiro to be published by Charco Press. Piñeiro is a well regarded writer of crime fiction in her native ArgElena Knows is the first work by Claudia Piñeiro to be published by Charco Press. Piñeiro is a well regarded writer of crime fiction in her native Argentina and prior English translations of her work were marketed as such. But what’s so intriguing about Piñeiro is that crime fiction is just an outer layer - a MacGuffin of sorts - a vehicle through which Piñeiro tells a compelling story, often grounded in her work as an activist. Elena Knows is no different. This work explores disability, aging, memory, religiosity, suicide, and, ultimately, abortion with an admirable mixture of sensitivity and conviction. The entire work is less than 200 pages and enfolds in a single day while the prematurely aged Elena, suffering from advanced Parkinson’s, haltingly traverses outer Buenos Aires in an effort to solve the mystery of her daughter’s death. Flashbacks and memories are seamlessly woven into the present. At its heart, the novel shows how dogma is used as a weapon to control others, yet disregarded by those wielding it when their own tragedy strikes. It is a subject that was of particular salience when this was first published in Argentina and is now tragically of utmost importance in the United States. Nicely translated by Frances Riddle....more
Tomb of Sand is Daisy Rockwell's translation of Geetanjali Shree's groundbreaking Ret Samadhi. Rockwell brilliantly captures the nonlinear sentences aTomb of Sand is Daisy Rockwell's translation of Geetanjali Shree's groundbreaking Ret Samadhi. Rockwell brilliantly captures the nonlinear sentences and clever wordplay in the (mostly) Hindi original. Rockwell explains in the translator’s note that the original itself is multilingual, packed with passages from Hindi, Urdu, Punjabi, Sanskrit, and indeed English, mirroring the ecosystem in which the novel is set. Others have noted how Shree’s original plays with the conventions of Hindi syntax and grammar in strikingly innovative ways, which is reflected in the translation but may be lost on English-only readers. The story itself is a bit of a slow burn, as we follow a recent widow from depression to a resurrection of sorts, living with her modern daughter, deepening a boundary defying friendship with a hijra person, and exploring more tangible boundaries as the work touches some of the wounds of partition. In its original context, the book is a rejoinder to the trajectory of current Indian politics, although that critique is subtle like everything else in this work. The story takes a bit of time to gain momentum - it takes the main character well over 100 pages to get out of bed - but once it gets chugging, it's an engaging and boundary defying read....more
Tender is the third book in what’s been called Ariana Harwicz’s involuntary trilogy, a loose grouping of her works that share themes and styles ratherTender is the third book in what’s been called Ariana Harwicz’s involuntary trilogy, a loose grouping of her works that share themes and styles rather than plot or characters. One of Harwicz’s primary occupations is a decoupling of womanhood from social expectations, particularly expectations around motherhood and the family. Each of Harwicz’s narrators dances along the line between sanity and madness, playing with our assumptions about what women “should� be doing or feeling. The lead in Tender is particularly transgressive. But the freedom from expectations we may have cheered in earlier books begins to look dangerously close to neglect here. When all bounds of propriety are deconstructed, what is left? If this book were simply an exploration of these themes in conventional form, my interest would wane rather quickly. Instead the prose is as feral as the protagonist, a virtuoso performance where narrative conventions are disregarded as thoroughly as thematic boundaries. Clocking in at a lean 75 pages, told without chapter breaks, this is an incestuous tour de force by Harwicz and translators Annie McDermott and Carolina Orloff. Brava....more