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Fiction

Yes, magic exists!

Antonin Artaud, Stephen Barber (ed.)

A Sinister Assassin

from myself / to myself / who is it that comes / and who is it that goes?

Antonin Artaud’s very last work, prior to his death in March 1948, is the most extraordinary element of his entire body of work – and is the element now most enduringly inspirational, for contemporary artists, filmmakers, musicians, writers, choreographers, and others inspired by Artaud – through its fiercely exploratory, extreme and combative forms, along with its dissolutions and negations of forms, focused above all on the human anatomy, as well as on sonic experimentation and on provocations for innovation in...

literature
Modernism
autobiography
poetry
avant-garde

Current Texts

Kim Gordon

Where do you go when you disappear? OPEN
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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

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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Maël Renouard

On Memory Atrophy

How can we remember the way we used to remember? OPEN
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Pierre Guyotat

The matrix for »Tombeau pour cinq cent mille soldats«

“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.

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war experience
war

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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

Eine Geschichte von Niedergang und Neuanfang

Lässt es sich in einem Totenhaus nicht vielleicht noch am besten leben?

Angelika Meier

Die Auflösung des Hauses Decker

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

“Obsessed with buffering”

In this essay, based on a talk he gave in Zurich, award-winning British novelist Tom McCarthy ("Remainder", "C", "Satin Island")... ABO

Tom McCarthy

Recessional—Or, the Time of the Hammer

Monograph

»Die vielleicht faszinierendste Autobiographie des 20. Jahrhunderts«

Mit der Neuauflage dieser seit langem vergriffenen fiktiven Autobiographie wird eines der eindrücklichsten Werke Perecs endlich wieder der deutschsprachigen Leserschaft zugänglich. In dieser meisterlichen und verstörenden Erzählung verdichten sich Perecs Kindheitsphantasien von der utopischen Insel W, auf der das ganze Leben dem Sport gewidmet ist, mit den Erinnerungen an den...

Georges Perec

W oder die Kindheitserinnerung

Topics

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

Current Texts

Zoran Terzić

Everything new is a pose in the alcoves of capital

In the post-avant-garde era we’re all either in the vanguard or asleep in the lap of capital. In this sense everybody
is avant-garde—or nobody.

In the late nineteenth century Alfred Jarry created a prototype of the modern wannabe in his pot-bellied Père Ubu, a figure that raises entitlement to a high art. Ubu doesn’t want to be king; others urge him to it. But he is also the others. And when he does become king, CEO, or US president, he doesn’t know what it means, or if it means anything at all. He just states his claim. And so he shimmies from statement to power. And having obtained power, Ubu decerebrates the world, exposing the grounds for groundlessness, to paraphrase Ortega y Gasset. Ubu is a tautomaniac, that is, he can be explained in his own terms and is thus always in the right (being in the right is all he is). He needs no proof, but on the contrary wants “to turn the absurd into the highest power of thought” (Deleuze & Guattari)....

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Current Texts

Jean-Luc Nancy

غریبه‌ها غریبه‌ها

ازخودبیگانه‌ ها راه‌ گم‌کرده‌ ها از کدامین اصل نامرئی؟

Etrange (غریب) در زبان فرانسوی از ریشه لاتین extraneus به معنای «خارجی» در برابر داخلی intraneus است. آنچه از خانه نیست unheimlich (امر غریب) از heim (خانه) نیست از منزل نیست در طرف دیگر دروازه fores است foreigner (خارجی)، خارج از ضرب و زیادی است odd (زاید) ناهنجار نامعمول نادر کمیاب تکی است seltsam (عجیب) عجیب و غریب besherat رشید ظریف پراوهام خمیده‌‌ verschroben (بد خو) خمیده شگفت‌ آور خارق‌ العاده حیرت‌ انگیز

غنای زبان امری غریب است در کلماتی که به نحوی حولِ مفهومِ غریبِ خارجی ausländer شکل گرفته اند خارج از کشور «هم‌‌ کشور ما» همانگونه که پیش‌ تر در فرانسه می‌ گفتیم «این کشور من است» برای اشاره به کسی از روستای من محله‌ ی من استان من ولایت من

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Current Texts

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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A. L. Kennedy

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

Maria Filomena Molder

So many egoists call themselves artists…

Words are human things; a great obscurity saturates them… 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

Books

Jean Paul Mongin, Junko Shibuya: Why Do Things Have Names?

Yan Marchand, Vincent Sorel: Diogenes the Dog-Man

Donatien Mary, Ronan de Calan: The Ghost of Karl Marx

Time Probe Zero Synthesis

DIAPHANES MAGAZINE No. 3

When to switch off? What to look for? How to write? Which lines to draw? Whence self-recognition? DIAPHANES 3—TIME PROBE ZERO SYNTHESIS

Where is the present when the computer pulses at the wrist every day, when we’re globally interconnected in real time but don’t take in our selves for a single moment, just bits and pieces, just snatching a few intensities, when neurons plus communication already makes a consciousness? Is it nothing but a hallucination, in permanent crisis? Does it stand still, get wider, poorer? How does the past change when systems record every second, saving them for the right moment or for...