World War Ii
On a new collection of essays full of contradiction, subversion, and purposeful ambiguity.
A rediscovered novel and memoir depict a character we are lucky to have on the page. In life he would mortify us.
Mixing ardor and ethereality.
From the train I could look out onto the infinite blue of the sea. I was still exhausted, wakeful from the overnight transatlantic flight to Rome, but looking out at the sea, that Mediterranean sea that was so infinite and so blue, made me forget it all, even myself. I don’t know why.
Amid the cacophony of collage, there is also, here, a baseline of story marching on: again and again the soldiers, the trucks. Isn’t it a natural impulse to want to follow that line?
The French writer speaks to his translator about his latest autobiographical novel to appear in English. Titled In the Deep, it deals with the link between desire and his early literary output, as well as the effect of his Catholic upbringing and World War II on his imagination.
An artist traces her grandfather through Europe by way of footage he filmed during World War II.
“Crises always present a moral dilemma—how are we to behave virtuously, and still manage to survive?”
Wie hiesst Himmler’s Brain?? Ashley McNelis on Laurent Binet’s HHhH.
The vast rewards offered by the films of Nagisa Oshima, exemplified by the strange, unclassifiable Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, are just beginning to be appreciated in America.
A review of How to Wreck a Nice Beach, a new book that tells the history of that most mysterious of musical instruments, the vocodor.
Adorno wrote that there could be no lyric poetry after Auschwitz; Duchamp made art an afterword.
This First Proof contains the story “My Grandfather’s Disintegration” by Antonio Ungar, translated by Katherine Silver.
Even more extraordinary than the putative subject of Linda Hattendorf’s debut documentary, an elderly homeless artist, is the fact that Hattendorf started aiming her camera at him long before September 11, 2001.
A scholar not only of literature, but of culture, horticulture, and above all the human body and its communications, Nádas presents a picture of temperament and elegance in the great tradition of the European intellectual.
“The one thing you can rely on in any situation is that the feelings you’re going to have are not the ones you think you’re supposed to have.”
Both first-rate novelists, Frederic Tuten and Jerome Charyn grew up in the Bronx, meeting as teenagers at the home of Fay Levine, the Bronx’s own Elizabeth Taylor. The two reminisce after the release of Charyn’s novel The Green Lantern.
Far from the magic realism of conventional Latin American narrative, Jorge Volpi’s novel In Search of Klingsor ( En busca de Klingsor; Seix Barral, 1999) relates a historical fiction set in the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University and in postwar Germany under the Allied occupation.