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Fiction

Jiji-Crycry

Antonin Artaud, Stephen Barber (ed.)

“Here Lies” preceded by “The Indian Culture”

Me, Antonin Artaud, I am my son, my father, my mother, and me.

The two poetic works collected together here as Here Lies preceded by Indian Culture were created as a partly improvised vocal performance dictated during one session on 25 November 1946, based on provisional notes, and transcribed by Artaud’s collaborator Paule Thévenin at Artaud’s pavilion in Ivry-sur-Seine. The two works together form one of the outstanding experiments of Artaud’s final period. Those two works were published in one volume in Paris on 20 January 1948 by the small poetry publisher K...

drugs
poetry
literature
avant-garde

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Dodie Bellamy

A stupid tweet by a nobody, meant as a parody, somehow goes viral and the internet offers up death threats. OPEN
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Diane Williams

How about some string?

I said “Would you like a rope? You know that haul you have is not secured properly.” ABO DE

Stephen Barber

J.G. Ballard’s self-declared ‘Immodest Proposal’ for a global war-alliance to exact the destruction of America demonstrates the provocatory zeal of his last fiction plans, as well as their enduring prescience. OPEN
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Maria Filomena Molder

So many egoists call themselves artists…

Words are human things; a great obscurity saturates them… OPEN
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A. L. Kennedy

Upending meanings and rewriting sanity

When it all burns you’ll know – a writer was there at the first…

ABO DE FR

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Soham Gupta

When life’s hard, time’s a motherfucker going slow

In his photographs and texts, Calcutta-based Soham Gupta forces the tension that arises between fiction and real-life conditions in as yet unseen ways.

ABO DE FR

Magazine Online

Autofiction—Metafiction

Monograph

Herkunft

Herkunft berichtet von der sinnlichen, emotionalen, geistigen Formung eines Kindes, das zu Beginn des Zweiten Weltkriegs in einem Dorf im Südosten Frankreichs in eine alte, katholische Familie ohne Vermögen geboren wurde. Wie die meisten seiner Bücher hat Pierre Guyotat es nahezu vollständig im Indikativ Präsens geschrieben. Die Gefühle, die Fragestellungen,...

Pierre Guyotat

Herkunft

Monograph

« Le rire est la seule chose qui reste après la catastrophe. »

Comme toute autobiographie qui se respecte, celle-ci fait de la naissance de son protagoniste un mythe fondateur : « Riez, non pas de joie comme si vous aviez entendu quelque chose de drôle, mais pour relâcher la tension abdominale », recommande un médecin mélancolique à la mère du futur George...

George Tabori

Autodafé

Monograph

»Es begann am Arsch der Welt.«

Ich meine immer noch Ledernacht zu hören, den alten deutschen Juden, wie er behauptet, Christus sei nicht gekreuzigt, sondern mit Schuhabsätzen zermatscht worden, wodurch jegliche Wiederauferstehung ziemlich unwahrscheinlich werde. Sobald er betrunken war, rief er von einem Ende der Straße zum anderen, von einem Ende des Viertels zum anderen seine Überzeugung...

Louis Calaferte

Requiem für die Schuldlosen

Monograph

Eine schonungslose Familien-Live-Show

»Für einen Schriftsteller ist die Familie eine wahre Goldgrube: anstatt seinen Erbteil einzufordern, verzichtet der Autor lieber darauf und lässt...

Hervé Guibert

Meine Eltern

Topics

Halluzinatorische Chroniken New Yorks
Reportagen, Fiktionen, Wirklichkeiten der Hauptstadt des 20. Jahrhunderts
- atomic age
- noir fiction
- New York
- USA
- reportage

Current Texts

I.V. Nuss

Pregnancy is the weirdest condition

The seahorse is the chosen metaphor for pregnant trans men

ABO DE

homosexuality
motherhood
contemporary literature

Current Texts

Johannes Binotto

Language can never be private

Where words are uttered, the taming is shrewed.

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theatre / drama
feminism
gender
language
subjectification
Shakespeare

Current Texts

Stephen Barber

Twenty-four hours in state of unconsciousness

Now this spectral city will become the site for execrations and lamentations, now time itself will disintegrate and void itself… ABO

Kim Gordon

Where do you go when you disappear? OPEN
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Pierre Guyotat

“This text was written at the end of 1962, after my return from Algeria. For me the text is the matrix for Tombeau pour cinq cent mille soldats.” P.G. OPEN
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Maël Renouard

On Memory Atrophy

How can we remember the way we used to remember? OPEN
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“Obsessed with buffering”

Tom McCarthy

Recessional—Or, the Time of the Hammer

Towards the end of Thomas Pynchon’s mammoth 1973 novel Gravity’s Rainbow, the stumbling ingénue of a hero Tyrone Slothrop sets off on a commando raid. The territory he and his cohorts move through is a giant metropolis, a “factory-state” in which capital, technology and power, perfectly co-calibrated, send airships drifting through urban canyons, past chrome caryatids and roof-gardens on skyscrapers that themselves shoot up and down on elevator-cables: a conurbation Pynchon calls the “City of the Future” or “Raketen-Stadt.” The...

ABO

literary studies
Modernism
conversation
fiction
literature

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Mike Wilson

Mike Wilson’s literature is a fast trip through the American night, drawn in melancholy images of great beauty. ABO

Angelika Meier

Your story begins with a tunnel.

The lost cause is the only one worth fighting for. OPEN
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Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau

We are bodies. It makes no sense to debate this. OPEN
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Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, Philippe Sollers

Like no other journal, Tel Quel was an outstanding arena of literary innovation and intellectual revolution. In this conversation its founder and publisher, Philippe Sollers, provides intimate insight and polemical hindsight into some of the most important milestones of its still-resonating era. ABO DE

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Raphaëlle Milone

He would say “Never work!”

Old-school publisher, avant-garde dandy, undisputed expert on the global history of Dada: Raphaëlle Milone paints an intimate but unsparing portrait of a man who belonged perhaps to a dying breed but is still remembered vividly.

ABO FR

Current Texts

Dietmar Dath

Do you want to believe in language?

The index calculates everything. Announcements of awards, mostly false, light up then die. His dopamine balance feeds the list. Limbic structures support it. Brain means house, should have windows.

Asleep, Patrick sees what he doesn’t believe while he’s awake.

The index calculates everything. Announcements of awards, mostly false, light up then die. His dopamine balance feeds the list. Limbic structures support it. Brain means house, should have windows. But they’re slow shutter pictures of the past.

Five minutes past four, Patrick is woken up by a noise. He’s lying in the small room. Renate is sleeping in the big one.

“Maybe I’ll get an idea during the night,” he had justified his move to the couch, “Then I’ll have to send it to them. We’re sending the thing off tomorrow.” He was afraid of saying what he knew about Kerstin in his sleep, while lying next to Renate. In the darkness he feels the room buzzing at him. His brain answers the hum, singing sugar and protein, talking perineural network that controls the form and function of the synapses which guide all...

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