A satire on bureaucracy and regimentation by one of Austria's leading writers. The nameless narrator takes the reader on a tour of a village whose inhabitants lead such regulated lives they resemble elements in a mathematical equation.
A satire on bureaucracy and regimentation by one of Austria's leading writers. The nameless narrator takes the reader on a tour of a village whose inhabitants lead such regulated lives they resemble elements in a mathematical equation.
Setting out to tell the story of a mysterious cowboy--a stranger in town with a terrible secret--Christine Montalbetti is continually sidetracked by the details that occur to her along the way, her CinemaScope camera focusing not on the gunslinger's grim and determined eyes, but on the insects crawling in the dust by his boots. A collection of the moments usually discarded in order to tell even the simplest and most familiar story, "Western" presents us with the world behind the clich's, where the much-anticipated violence of the plot is continually, maddeningly delayed, and no moment is too insignificant not to be valued. Montalbetti's daring theft of movie technique and subversion of a genre where women are usually relegated to secondary roles--victims, prostitutes, widows, schoolmarms--makes Western a remarkable wake for the most basic of American mythologies.
"A classic of modern literature, Paradiso was first published in Cuba in 1966. Written by Cuba's most important poet, it tells the story of Jose Cemi, who, in the wake of his father's death, comes of age in turn-of-the-century Cuba. Weaving the exhilarations and defeats of love into extraordinarily erotic verbal tapestries, Lezama Lima narrates Cemi's search for his dead father and for an understanding of love and the powers of the mind."--BOOK JACKET.Title Summary field provided by Blackwell North America, Inc. All Rights Reserved
A journalist by trade, who now suffers from an immune deficiency developed while researching this book, presents personal accounts of what happened to the people of Belarus after the nuclear reactor accident in 1986, and the fear, anger, and uncertainty that they still live with. Svetlana Alexievich won the Nobel Prize in literature in 2015.
Despite the overuse of the word in movies, political speeches, and news reports, "evil" is generally seen as either flagrant rhetoric or else an outdated concept: a medieval holdover with no bearing on our complex everyday reality. In "A Philosophy of Evil," however, acclaimed philosopher Lars Svendsen argues that evil remains a concrete moral problem: that we're all its victims, and all guilty of committing evil acts. "It's normal to be evil," he writes--the problem is, we have lost the vocabulary to talk about it. Taking up this problem--how do we speak about evil?--"A Philosophy of Evil" treats evil as an ordinary aspect of contemporary life, with implications that are moral, practical, and above all, political. Because, as Svendsen says, "Evil should neither be justified nor explained away--evil must be fought."
"An undertaker finds an invitation to a private showing of a movie stuck in his apartment door. Upon arrival at the theater, he discovers that there's only one other person in the audience, and when the "movie" turns out to be footage of him sitting in a park calmly eating his lunch, he becomes convinced that he's an unwitting participant in a sinister reality show, whose unseen cameras are determined to humiliate him in front of thousands of people. Certain that he's being filmed at every moment, he begins a bizarre odyssey through the dark and empty streets of his city, encountering increasingly absurd situations, becoming ever more paranoid and distrustful, and waiting for the opportunity to stage a rebellion against his hidden tormentors."--BOOK JACKET.
Not since Louis-Ferdinand Céline's Ferdinand Bardamu has a character appeared in fiction with such a bitter, ironic, hysterically ranting voice. Tonka--a fifty-something woman spending the night watching TV before leaving her husband for a younger man--rails against all of society, from attacks on America to complaints about commercials, from the passive nature of most married women to the way corporations control the world.With shocking honesty and anger, she pours out her soul to an imaginary audience, interspersing her rants with the story of her difficult life, the suffering experienced during the Yugoslav war, and the affairs she and her best friend have with the same man.
A striking reassessment of the Don Juan myth. A literary tour de force, this extraordinary novel is told in single-minded pursuit of double meanings, but it is serious play. Larva is a rollicking account of a masquerade party in an abandoned mansion in London. Milalias (disguised as Don Juan) searches for Babelle (as Sleeping Beauty) through a linguistic funhouse of puns and wordplay recalling Joyce's Finnegans Wake. A mock-scholarly commentary reveals the backgrounds of the masked revellers, while Rios' allusive language shows that words too wear masks, hiding an astonishing range of further meanings and implications. Larva revives a Hispanic tradition repressed for centuries by introducing the English tradition of puns, palindromes and acrostics (a word puzzle in which certain letters in each line form a word or words) and establishes Rios as the most accomplished successor (in any language) to Joyce.
"One of the oddest characters in contemporary fiction, the lecturer can't help but digress about his sad life in the midst of his speech, although he's too self-deluded to realize quite how sad it is. Salvayre's The Lecture is an example of political double-talk and misogyny run wild."--Jacket.