The Frankfurter Allgemeine (FAZ) brings today a remembrance of Günter Grass by his friend, the film maker Volker Schlöndorff. Opening paras (in German) below; the rest of the article here. Erinnerung an Günter Grass: Das Herz eines zürnenden Gottes Günter Grass war die Stimme des deutschen Geistes in der Welt: ein Patriot, kein Rechthaber, auch wenn er oft über das Ziel hinausschoss. Erinnerung an einen Freund. 16.04.2015, von VOLKER SCHLÖNDORFF © … Read more “The typewriter was his Tin Drum:” Schlöndorff on Grass (in German)
ON TRANSLATION AND POETIC IDENTITY IN THE AGE OF IDENTITY POLITICS WITH AMMIEL ALCALAY AND BENJAMIN HOLLANDER Monday, November 18, 2013 Olin 115, 11:50am-1:10pm Ammiel Alcalay and Benjamin Hollander will address how translation as act and idea has shaped their practices and poetic identities. Hollander, who grew up between German and Hebrew before coming to the English he now writes in, will speak to how this linguistic and cultural journey has been translated into the … Read more Alcalay & Hollander at Bard College!
A pleasure to hear that Peter Thompson has finished translating one of the core books of Maghrebi (Moroccan, in this case) contemporary writing, Abdelkebir Khatibi’s autobiographical 1971 novel La Mémoire tatouée. Here, a brief extract (& let’s hope that a US publisher will allow us to get the book soon): I liked my rum-and-milk, my gaze blurred by the girls bouncing by. And? Robbe-Grillet and Godard? The talks burbled along, … Read more Abdelkebir Khatibi’s “Tattooed Memory”
It gives me great pleasure to bring the following to your attention: Online feature: The Life and Work of Jonathan Williams, Black Mountain Poet, Publisher, Photographer: THE LORD OF ORCHARDS – in Jacket magazine – I’d like to invite your attention to an comprehensive online feature on the life and work of Black Mountain poet, publisher, and photographer Jonathan Williams, THE LORD OF ORCHARDS, edited by myself here at … Read more Colonel Williams in Jacket (# 38) & (no) (various) Tie(s)
CITY AS PILGRIMAGE (continued…) Even before the monastery, I happened on what struck me as peculiar, in this very ordinary neighborhood of dry cleaners and groceries and funeral parlors – an actual bookstore. The kind that sold used books. My treasures. The fact that most of the books were in German makes it clear now what it meant to have an educated lower middle class that read books. Germany … Read more Robert Kelly on Brooklyn (4 & final)
CITY AS PILGRIMAGE (continued…) After the movies, a hot potato knish, square as a stiff cushion, peppery, greasy fingers you could lick after the main dish, a delicate aftertaste. A good cure for memories. A good banishment of sentimentality. Lick the salt, lick the skin. And then go left again, down to the end of Pitkin Avenue. Hopkinson was an open side street, but most of the side streets … Read more Robert Kelly on Brooklyn (3)
CITY AS PILGRIMAGE (continued…) East: Sunrise, the highway to the book I would set out, down the four steps cement steps of Mrs. Shevlin’s house where we rented our apartment, cross the little cement patio, turn left. Pass the stoop where Loretta sometimes stood, the Polish girl next door, innocent slinky and pretty and sad with acne. Pass the ever-open Italian social and athletic club where old men, never … Read more Robert Kelly on Brooklyn (2)
CITY AS PILGRIMAGE by Robert Kelly You don’t live in a city. You live across it. Or athwart it, or through it. You live through a city, and the routes of your travel are mapped by your own compulsions, infatuations, dreads. Your sense of identity, your sense of the task that lies before you, your work, the enterprise that the city will shape. Your whole nature inscribes a Milky … Read more Robert Kelly on Brooklyn (1)