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Fiction

The matrix for »Tombeau pour cinq cent mille soldats«

Pierre Guyotat

The Prison

“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.

Our prison was encircled by marshland where birds and sick dogs came to die. At night we could hear their cries and death rattles. We could see nothing of the town except its smoke and its dying animals. Prisoners on the second floor watched those washed-out cats and dogs die, lying down then struggling in the mud like birds caught in lime; famished cats jumped on those with gaping wounds and tore them open. From the cellar where we had been...

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war experience
war

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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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

Maël Renouard

On Memory Atrophy

How can we remember the way we used to remember? OPEN
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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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Current Texts

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

Current Texts

Kim Gordon

It was another 75° day in LA.

Where do you go when you disappear?

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Magazine Online

New releases

Maaza Mengiste: Of Interest to the General Public

Autofiction—Metafiction

Monograph

Eis

Ich hatte mich verfahren, es dämmerte bereits…

Anna Kavan

Eis

Monograph

»Die am weitesten zurückliegende Vergangenheit hat die größte Sprengkraft. Jede intensive Erinnerung grenzt an Gewalt.«

»Wenn man ein Buch öffnet, weiß man nicht, wohin man geht. Man lässt sich führen in Zeiten, an Orte, zu Gefühlen, mit denen man sich sonst nicht ohne weiteres eingelassen hätte. Überhaupt sind unsere Leben Irrpfade, die wir auf verschiedene Weisen rekapitulieren – je nachdem, zu welcher Zeit und mit...

Pascal Quignard

Die wandernden Schatten

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

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

Topics

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

Current Texts

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

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

Maria Filomena Molder

So many egoists call themselves artists…

Words are human things; a great obscurity saturates them… 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

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

Soham Gupta

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

The limp, voluptuous decadence of the place

Bruce Bégout

I’m not going to talk about my profession here. ABO FR DE

Books

Marion Muller-Colard, Clémence Pollet: Hannah Arendt's Little Theater

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

Yan Marchand, Vincent Sorel: Diogenes the Dog-Man

Of what can I be truly certain?

Jean Paul Mongin, François Schwoebel

Mister Descartes and his Evil Genius

Can one trust his senses when perceiving the outside world? When my sensations are the basis of my perception of my own existence, what if these sensations are to be doubted – what can the proof of my own existence be? These questions, both simple and profoundly undermining, stand at the beginning of Modernity: the philosophy of René Descartes. This book drags its readers – and musketeer-like Mister Descartes himself – into the adventure of thinking. It gives a lively...

young readers
Descartes
epistemology
certainty
thinking

Current Texts

The abandonment of the centrality of the subject

Donatien Grau

Philology keeps it possible to open a space for the minority. 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

Tom McCarthy

The ironic self-awareness of the poet can only be that of his own inauthenticity, repeated or fed back into itself at increasingly conscious levels, and ‘to know inauthenticity is not the same as to be authentic’. ABO DE

I.V. Nuss

The seahorse is the chosen metaphor for pregnant trans men ABO DE

Current Texts

Rolf Bossart, Milo Rau

Humanity is a metahuman concept.

We are bodies. It makes no sense to debate this.

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art theory
re-enactment
postmodernism
transhumanism
artistic practice
realism

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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