[The Roof Rat Review.]


Christine Wunnicke. Der Fuchs und Dr. Shimamura. Berenberg, Heinrich von, 2015. The best German book about fox spirits in Shimane Prefecture that I can imagine. (link)

Walter Kempowski, Mario Rubino (trans). Alles umsonst. Verlag Albrecht Knaus (Random House Verlagsgr.), 2007 (2006). It starts like Alice Munro and ends like Yiyun Li's The Vagrants. The rock-hard texture of 1945 is worked right through. (link)

Herman Melville, John Bryant (introduction, commentary). Typee: A Peep at Polynesian Life. Penguin Classics, 1996 (Typee, 1846). So much wild implausibility next to passages just strange enough to have the ring of reality; it's a minor agony to guess how much of it really happened. (link)

Gerald Murnane. The Plains. New Issues Poetry and Prose, 2003 (1982). The, well, flatness comes off just as intended, but I'm not sure I'm credulous enough for a society in which everybody is a different version of Wallace Stevens. (link)

Guadalupe Nettel, J.T. Lichtenstein (trans). The Body Where I Was Born. Seven Stories Press, 2015 (El cuerpo en que nací, 2011). I didn't know how to read it as fiction rather than memoir, nor what that reading would mean. (link)

Virgil, Janet Lembke (trans). Virgil's Georgics. Yale University Press, 2006 (Georgica, -29). Advice for all seasons, and very rich, even if his wasn't a century when you would actually expect to meet a god on a farm. (link)

Alex Danchev. Cezanne: A Life. Pantheon, 2012. It's often loose and can feel like a collection of anecdotes, but then there's something appropriate about letting incidents hang free as disconnected brushstrokes rather than plaster it all with narrative contour. (link)

Dimitris Lyacos. The First Death. Shoestring Press, 2005 (Ο πρώτος θάνατος, 1996). Harder to hook into than Z213: Exit; when your hero starts out dead there's less plain world under the mythopoeia. The difference between poetry and prose, at least in translation. I'm impressed even so. (link)

Dimitris Lyacos, Shorsha Sullivan (trans). Z213: EXIT. Shoestring Press, 2010 (Ζ213: ΕΞΟΔΟΣ, 2010). Late Beckett is the obvious reference point; incredibly, I think it survives the comparison. The translation reads very well, but note this narrative of ambiguous exile and pursuit could also be titled Exodus. (link)

Valeria Luiselli. Lost Children Archive. Knopf Publishing Group, 2019. Intelligent, and only intelligent. The writer's transition to a New York author seems complete, and the children characters (though it must have been the last thing intended) are baldly used. (link)

Jean Rhys. Tigers are Better-Looking: With a selection from The Left Bank. Penguin Classics, 1996 (Tigers Are Better Looking, 1968). I love her drawing, the economy with which she touches up her interior scenes. (link)

Makoto Ueda (editor/translator), Yosano Tekkan, Okamoto Kanoko, Kenji Miyazawa, Okuma Nobuyuki, Maekawa Samio, Saito Fumi, Miya Shuji, Kondo Yoshimi, Tsukamoto Kunio, Nakajo Fumiko, Sasaki Yukitsuna, Shiki Masaoka, Tawara Machi, Ōgai Mori, Akiko Yosano, Takuboku Ishikawa, Mokichi Saito, Kitahara Hakushu, Shaku Choku, Toki Zenmaro. Modern Japanese Tanka: An Anthology. Columbia University Press, 1996 (Modern Japanese Tanka, 1996). Broad and well-framed: a good way to get oriented. (link)

Helen DeWitt. Some Trick: Thirteen Stories. New Directions, 2018. Some bagatelles from Oxford in the eighties, and more recent exemplary stories about art and markets, the best of which cut very sharp. (link)

Natsume Sōseki, Jay Rubin (trans), Haruki Murakami (introduction). The Miner. Aardvark Bureau, 2015 (坑夫 [Kōfu], 1908). He's insistent it shouldn't turn into a story, and so it doesn't, but it makes a great anecdote. (link)

Yōko Tawada, Margaret Mitsutani (trans). The Emissary. New Directions, 2018 (献灯使 [Kentōshi], 2014). I started out skeptical, but despair this quiet is hard to gainsay. (link)

Qiu Miaojin, Bonnie Huie (trans). Notes of a Crocodile. NYRB Classics, 2017 (鱷魚手記, 1994). I haven't read anything this punk in a while. (link)

Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky, Joanne Turnbull (trans). Memories of the Future. NYRB Classics, 2009 (Воспоминания о будущем, 1929). Oblique is a good direction for time travel. (link)

Sei Shōnagon, Meredith McKinney (trans), Sugai Minoru (illustrator). The Pillow Book. Penguin Classics, 2006 (枕草子 [Makura no sōshi], 1002). All the implicit leisure time behind these lists is like catching sight of a small, very deep lake almost out of view. (link)

Natsume Sōseki, V.H. Viglielmo (trans). Light and Darkness. (明暗, 1916). Polarizing like late James, and I think not as wholly realized, though the translation (in all senses) makes it hard to be sure. (link)

Lisa Halliday. Asymmetry. Simon & Schuster, 2018. I was more interested in Iraq than New York but I allow it's a coherent project. (link)

Sextus Empiricus, R.G. Bury (trans). Outlines of Pyrrhonism (Loeb Classical Library #273). Harvard University Press, 1933 (Sextus Empiricus: Outlines of Scepticism, 200). Just as promised on the box, the impossibility of knowledge comes as a relief. (link)

Ivana Simić Bodrožić, Ellen Elias-Bursać (trans). The Hotel Tito. (Hotel Zagorje, 2010). Allowing for historical transposition, a very American story of youth. (link)

Cristina Rivera Garza, Sarah Booker (trans). The Iliac Crest. Feminist Press, 2017 (La Cresta de Ilion, 2002). I'm grateful for instances of narrative surprise amid the theory, which is never surprising; principally I now want to read Amparo Dávila. (link)

Cristina Rivera Garza, Suzanne Levine (trans), Aviva Kana (trans). The Taiga Syndrome. (El mal de la taiga, 2012). Thinner than The Iliac Crest, and possibly backfired in making me hungry for factuality; there is, after all, a knowable taiga. (link)

Gerald Murnane. Inland. (1989). A lovely X-ray of provincial childhood, wrapped in metafictional padding to which I was often indifferent but that sometimes carried off the magic trick as intended. (link)

Anna Burns. Milkman. Faber & Faber, 2018. An awful delight. (link)

Arakida Moritake, Steven D. Carter (trans). Traditional Japanese Poetry: An Anthology. Stanford University Press, 1993 (1991). Meticulously done. Reading in concert with a literary history like Keene's is a good way to avoid the false sense of sameness that comes with the heft. (link)

Donald Keene. World Within Walls: Japanese Literature of the Premodern Era - 1600-1867 (A History of Japanese Literature - Volume 2). Columbia University Press, 1999 (World Within Walls, 1976). Literary history through a reflecting telescope: genres cohere and then hollow out, what moves are possible when. (link)

Wallace Stegner, Bernard DeVoto (introduction). Beyond the Hundredth Meridian: John Wesley Powell and the Second Opening of the West. Penguin Books, 1992 (1954). Superb: the federal government harder to navigate than the Colorado rapids. (link)

Shūsaku Endō, William Johnston (trans). Silence. Taplinger Publishing, 1999 (Čimmoku [沈黙], 1966). The cardinal virtue of hope is here ambivalent at best. (link)

Donald Keene. Seeds in the Heart: Japanese Literature from Earliest Times to the Late Sixteenth Century (A History of Japanese Literature - Volume 1). Columbia University Press, 1999 (Seeds in the Heart: Japanese Literature from Earliest Times to the Late Sixteenth Century, ). Magisterial, and since so many of the source texts are so brief, it has the feel of a guided anthology. (link)

Kōbō Abe, Maryellen Toman Mori (trans). Kangaroo Notebook. Vintage, 1997 (カンガルー・ノート [Kangarū nōto], 1991). Another Abe romp through an uncooperative world, or many worlds. (link)

Anonymous, H. Jay Harris (trans). The Tales of Ise. Tuttle Publishing, 1972 (伊勢物語, 1900). I think this must be the despair of translators. Even the short prose passages seem to imply the difficulty of poetry. (link)


Lydia Kiesling. The Golden State. MCD, 2018. One possible structuralist diagram of the novel would plot an observation function against an invention function. This book is very strong on observation, and draws from its topics (economic precarity, female labor) an urgency that is fiction's particular province, and saves it from becoming another "Sebaldian" book of quasi-journalism. (link)

Murasaki Shikibu, Richard Bowring (trans). The Diary of Lady Murasaki. Penguin Classics, 2005 (紫式部日記 [Murasaki Shikibu Nikki], 1010). You certainly get the sense that you've met and admired her sisters in this era. (link)

Murasaki Shikibu, Royall Tyler (trans), Minora Sugai (illustrator). The Tale of Genji. Penguin Classics, 2003 (源氏物語 [Genji Monogatari], 1008). http://www.metameat.net/2018/12/30/1456 (link)

John Darnielle. Wolf in White Van. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2014. Not that it's exactly close in form to the author's songs, but I think only one person could have written it. (link)

David B.. Epileptic. Pantheon, 2005 (2002). Mythmaking against the grain, very sad. (link)

Penelope Fitzgerald. Human Voices. Harper Perennial, 2003 (1980). She's never less than stellar, but the wartime BBC turns out to be a particularly recognizable workplace. (link)

Paul Kildea. Chopin's Piano: In Search of the Instrument That Transformed Music. W. W. Norton Company, 2018. Chopin in Mallorca is of course a good proxy for Keats in Italy. Wanda Landowska has a very nice picture on the cover, but it's George Sand that steals the show. (link)

Dorthe Nors, Misha Hoekstra (trans). Mirror, Shoulder, Signal. Pushkin Press , 2017 (Spejl, skulder, blink, 2016). Problems in Denmark. (link)

Paul Kingsnorth. Beast. Faber & Faber, 2016. I'm not sure he's quite meeting his own standard as yet, but I'm so sympathetic to the basic ambition that I look forward to his trying again. (link)

Robert Aitken. The River of Heaven: The Haiku of Basho, Buson, Issa, and Shiki. Counterpoint, 2011. Scattershot and doesn't go as deep as Aitken's closer readings of Basho, but plenty of pages worth the price of admission. (link)

Tove Jansson, Elizabeth Portch (trans). Comet in Moominland (The Moomins, #2). Puffin Books, 2010 (Kometjakten, 1946). I missed these as a child. It's a whole deep world. (link)

Yōko Tawada, Margaret Mitsutani (trans). Facing the Bridge. New Directions, 2007 (Facing the Bridge (New Directions Paperbook), 2007). The story of Amo was better handled than a lot of writers might have done, but my favorite thing was the riff on Anne Duden. (link)

Magdalena Tulli, Bill Johnston (trans). Dreams and Stones. Archipelago, 2004 (Sny i kamienie, 1995). Recommended for Schulz and Calvino fans, which unfortunately I'm not quite. (link)

Imre Kertész, Tim Wilkinson (trans). The Union Jack. Melville House, 2010 (Az angol lobogó, 1991). "The unattainably remote notion of a private life." Just the best. (link)

Katie Kitamura. A Separation. Riverhead Books, 2017. It's nice to see a display of control and restraint getting so much attention. (link)

Hanne Ørstavik, Martin Aitken (trans). Love. Archipelago Books, 2018 (Kjærlighet, 1997). The diffuse menace of the prose is quite something, but it’s too bad that it resolves to another cautionary tale about a bad mother, and that the character with imagination takes the punishment. (link)

Imre Kertész. The Pathseeker. Melville House, 2008 (A nyomkereső (Pathseeker), 1977). The mad-detective narrative works so well because he's obviously mad and obviously right. (link)

Anzhelina Polonskaya, Andrew Wachtel (trans). Paul Klee's Boat. Zephyr Press, 2012. Unusually translatable Russian verse: all that elegy, all that snow. (link)

James Cahill. Scholar Painters Of Japan: The Nanga School. Arno Press, 1976 (Scholar Painters of Japan: The Nanga School (The Asia Society collection), 1976). The old reproductions especially favor Kuwayama Gyokushū. (link)

Natasha Trethewey (editor), David Lehman (series editor). Best American Poetry 2017. Scribner, 2017. Poetry sure did go to college. (link)

Imre Kertész, Tim Wilkinson (trans). Detective Story. Knopf, 2008 (Detektívtörténet, 1977). Not bad, but strangely minor; Kertész had one subject, and deviating from it even partially yields an accomplished genre exercise. (link)

John Crowley. Four Freedoms. William Morrow, 2009. It’s spooky how easily the WWII home front becomes a vanished Camelot, and Crowley knows it. (link)

Yōko Tawada, Margaret Mitsutani (trans). The Bridegroom Was a Dog. Kodansha, 2003 (犬婿入り, 1993). Marriage to animals, marriage to the dead. (link)

Vera Tobin. Elements of Surprise: Our Mental Limits and the Satisfactions of Plot. Harvard University Press, 2018. The curse of knowledge is a fine narratological tool, the emphasis on pleasure essential. (link)

Thom Gunn, August Kleinzahler (editor). Selected Poems. Farrar, Strauss & Giroux-3pl, 2009 (Selected Poems 1950-1975, 1974). California rigor! It's possible! But this edition omits many great middle-period poems ("At the Centre", "Misanthropos"). (link)

Jenny Erpenbeck. Gehen, ging, gegangen. (2015). Wrapping a very live political issue in the book makes it more polemic and sentimental than Heimsuchung, and less realized as a novel; that said, it's still really good, since it's Erpenbeck. (link)

James M. Cain. Mildred Pierce. Vintage, 1941. That Balzacian core of profit-driven energy. It's interesting that she's an entrepreneur; part of the book still wants to punish her for being a bad mother, but the rest of it has its sights on stranger things. (link)

Gérard de Nerval, Kléber Haedens (preface). Les filles du feu, suivi de Aurélia. Livre de poche, 1968. Aurélia probably stands next to Akutagawa's Cogwheels as an account of mental breakdown that draws its force from the powers of description having kept marvelously intact. (link)

Percival Everett. Erasure. Hyperion, 2002 (2001). Truly bleakly funny, and impressive that he never loses his bead on his target. More coherent than Assumption (which I also admired) because less committed to verisimilitude from the beginning. (link)

George Saunders. Lincoln in the Bardo. Random House, 2017. A gratifying stretch. (link)

Isaac Babel, Carol J. Avins (editor), H.T. Willetts (trans). 1920 Diary. Yale University Press, 2002 (1991). World on fire. In its artlessness it can even make passages of Red Cavalry seem rhetorically overdone, which is not the effect you'd expect. I thought of The Red and the White often. (link)

Beatriz Bracher, Adam Morris (trans). I Didn't Talk. New Directions, 2018. I thought the big reveal was going to be that he did talk, but the whole thing is much subtler than that: bravo. (link)

Robert Aickman. The Model. William Morrow & Company, 1987. Wonderful magic. (link)

Ben Lerner. 10:04. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2014. More New York autofiction; file next to Open City. I can't tell whether it was intended to make the life of an acclaimed Brooklyn author seem so unenviable. (link)

Ta-Nehisi Coates. Between the World and Me. Random House Publishing Group, 2015. Page for page, I don't know of a better American writer now working. (link)

Wolfgang Hilbig, Isabel Fargo Cole (trans). The Tidings of the Trees. Two Lines Press, 2018 (Die Weiber, Alte Abdeckerei, Die Kunde von den Bäumen, ). A world without grounding, perfectly rendered. (link)

Giorgio Bassani. The Garden of the Finzi-Continis. Harcourt, Inc., 1977 (ll giardino dei Finzi-Contini, 1962). Wrenching and masterful. A novel that deals with its historical burden by getting the history out of the way on the first page, so that the drone note sounds through the rest of the novel doing its novelistic business. (link)

Dag Solstad, Tiina Nunnally (trans). T Singer. New Directions, 2018 (T. Singer, 1999). Unnerving and saddening; the slow spool was a deliberate strategy, but not one I'd necessarily seek out again. (link)

Olga Tokarczuk, Jennifer Croft (trans). Flights. Fitzcarraldo Editions, 2017 (Bieguni, 2007). It won me over, but I'm square enough that it was the fiction proper, not the arch alternatives to fiction, that did the winning. (link)

Robert Aickman, Victoria Nelson (introduction). Compulsory Games. NYRB Classics, 2018. The consistency of craft and temperament across fairly varied situations is only one of many points to admire. (link)

John Ashbery. Notes from the Air: Selected Later Poems. Ecco, 2007. There's something good on nearly every page, but still weaker than the earlier Selected and a challenge in bulk. (link)

Charles Rosen. The Classical Style: Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven. W. W. Norton Company, 1998 (1971). Fifty years on, it's finally possible to queue up recordings on demand and give this sort of book its proper aural dimension. (link)

João Cabral de Melo Neto, Richard Zenith (trans). Education by Stone. Archipelago, 2005 (A Educação Pela Pedra, 1962-1965, 1996). The translation is just excellent, and discloses more variety than you'd think. (link)

John Ashbery. Selected Poems. Penguin , 1986 (Selected Poems , 1967). This time through it was Three Poems that seemed the clearest statement of purpose, and perhaps the selections from As We Know and Shadow Train that offered the most pleasant surprises. (link)

Hanne Orstavik. Love. Archipelago, 2018 (Kjærlighet, 1997). The diffuse menace of the prose is quite something, but it’s too bad that it resolves to another cautionary tale about a bad mother, and that the character with imagination takes the punishment. (link)

Marlon James. A Brief History of Seven Killings. Riverhead Books, 2014. It’s not brief. There’s an excellent 300-page book in the extant 680, but I worry that all the tough-guy padding is exactly what made Publishers Weekly decide it was an “essential history.” (link)

Sylvia Townsend Warner, Alison Lurie (introduction). Lolly Willowes. New York Review Books Classics, 1999 (Lolly Willowes, or, The Loving Huntsman, 1926). Fantastic, and halfway through becomes fantastic in a completely unforeseen (to me) way. I love Trojan horses of genre. (link)

Jenny Erpenbeck. Heimsuchung. , 2008. Spirit of Büchner: those same clean cuts in the prose whether she's going minute by minute or year by year. I regret that I didn't start reading her considerably earlier. (link)

Alexander Pushkin. Boris Godunov and Other Dramatic Works. Oxford University Press, USA, 2007 (Boris Godunov and Other Dramatic Works (Oxford World's Classics), 1831). The translation seems a little flat, better in the short dramas than Boris Godunov itself, but what do I know; Russian prose in translation always delights, Russian verse makes me mourn my ignorance. (link)

Homero Aridjis, Chloe Aridjis (trans). The Child Poet. Archipelago, 2016 (1984). This is wonderful, one of the rare books that seems contiguous with Juan Rulfo’s Mexico (especially Rulfo’s photographs, perhaps). (link)

Stendhal, John Sturrock (trans), Lydia Davis (contributor). The Life of Henry Brulard. NYRB Classics, 2001 (La Vie de Henri Brulard, 1834). It’s not the most realized Stendhal, but all the rough patches are worth it for that wondrous, guileless ending where he finally approaches his long-anticipated first love, discovers he can’t write a word and breaks off the book. (link)

Jesmyn Ward. Salvage the Bones. Bloomsbury, 2011. It’s well done, and the last sentimental turn moving in context. My quibble is with a lyrical mode that’s too available a default in American prose: a quibble with the decade, not this book. (link)

Eça de Queirós, Margaret Jull Costa (trans). The Illustrious House of Ramires. New Directions, 2017 (A Ilustre Casa de Ramires, 1900). I forget who said that Eça doesn’t share the Naturalists’ hatred of life, but that’s his mode: to paint bumbling inconsequence (and be very funny about it) without contempt. (link)

Yu Hua, Allan H. Barr (trans). The Seventh Day. Pantheon, 2015 (第七天, 2013). The tale of drifting ghosts, well, drifts. Yu’s flinty avant-garde heart softens once again. (link)

Hui-Neng, W.Y. Evans-Wentz, Christmas Humphreys, A.F. Price (trans). The Diamond Sutra and the Sutra of Hui-Neng. Shambhala, 1974 (The Diamond Sutra and The Sutra of Hui-Neng, 1969). That cover painting of Hui-Neng tearing up a sutra really says it all, even if on his deathbed he advised not going out of your way to dishonor them. (link)

Percival Everett. Assumption. Graywolf Press, 2011. http://pseudopodium.org/ht-20170522.h... (link)

Tove Jansson, Thomas Teal (trans), Kathryn Davis (introduction). The Summer Book. NYRB Classics, 2008 (Sommarboken, 1972). A life’s gathered wisdom shows everyone’s a Moomin. (link)

Domenico Starnone, Jhumpa Lahiri (trans). Ties. Europa Editions, 2017 (Lacci, 2014). Starnone/Lahiri make a fine pairing. I really don’t know why this iteration of middle-class realism is so much more satisfying than most, but I hope they keep mining this vein. (link)

Domenico Starnone. Trick. Europa Editions, 2018 (2016). There ought to be more such improvisations on “The Jolly Corner.” This one sets a bar for reckoning with artistic failure (or mediocrity), complete with infuriating grandkid. (link)

Ian Bostridge. Schubert's Winter Journey: Anatomy of an Obsession. Knopf, 2015 (2014). Even in overthought digressions Bostridge is good company, but best of all when he sticks to the 1820s and the notes on the page. (link)

Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay, Rimli Bhattacharya (trans). Aranyak: Of the Forest. Seagull Books, 2017 (আরণ্যক, 1939). City boy is sent to administer a patch of country and falls in love with it, very plausibly, while improving it out of existence. (link)

Jonathan Raban. Passage to Juneau: A Sea and Its Meanings. Vintage, 2000 (1999). Cowper's "But I beneath a rougher sea" is now going to call this up for good, right alongside To the Lighthouse. (link)

Charles Cooke. Playing the Piano for Pleasure. (Playing the Piano for Pleasure., 1941). Casual midcentury affability and hierarchies of taste, as if written by a low-key Nabokov who actually took an interest in music. (link)

Hayao Miyazaki, David Lewis (trans), Toren Smith (trans). Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind: The Complete Series. VIZ Media LLC, 2012 (風の谷のナウシカ, 1995). I don't think I've ever met a more accomplished entrant in the arena of sci-fi epic. (link)

Kazuaki Tanahashi, Roshi Joan Halifax (contributor). The Heart Sutra: A Comprehensive Guide to the Classic of Mahayana Buddhism. Shambhala, 2015 (2014). The quotes from physicists didn't teach me any physics, but the philology is laid out very nicely indeed. (link)

Malcolm Braly, Jonathan Lethem. On the Yard. NYRB Classics, 2002 (1967). Midcentury realism at its best; the techniques and play of forces could have been set in an warehouse or army base or any male world, but prison was what Braly knew. (link)

Wolfgang Hilbig, Isabel Fargo Cole (trans). I. Seagull Books, 2015 (1993). It's sort of the opposite of hard-boiled; the spy's fractured self is not an absence but an unmanageable stacked palimpsest, and it seems to get something very right about life in a surveillance society. (link)

Yun Dong-ju, Kyungnyun K. Richards. Sky, Wind and Stars. Jain Publishing Company, 2003 (Sky, Wind, and Stars, 1948). I think its simplicity must be an especial challenge for a translator, and if you missed the opening note about poems for children being mixed in with poems not for children, you'd be very confused about the sequence. But the best few stand out in any edition. (link)

Donald Merriam Allen (editor). The New American Poetry. Grove Press, 1960 (The New American Poetry, 1945-1960, 1960). A revealing look back at a time when the turtlenecked academic dereferentializers still had to rub shoulders with the sweaty guys on peyote, because nobody had quite worked out who was who. (link)

Ge Fei, Canaan Morse (trans). The Invisibility Cloak. (隐身衣 / Yin shen yi, 2012). It was a bold move by the library to shelve this with the mysteries; it begins naturalistically enough, but the author remembers his avant-garde roots and it ends nowhere near that genre’s revealment. (link)

Manfred Mittermayer. Thomas Bernhard: Eine Biografie. Residenz Verlag, 2015. The childhood scenes were the most illuminating; once it reaches the point of Bernhard exercising his public agons in print and keeping his private agons hidden for good, a biographer can only summarize the subject’s own words. (link)

Carmen Boullosa. Texas. Alfaguara, 2013 (Texas, 2013, 2013). A prodigious and well-practiced talent concerned to give us a Western that moves outward rather than forward; the point is there’s a society, large and deep, however it fractures. (link)

Álvaro Enrigue. Muerte súbita. Anagrama, 2013. It’s a lark, and the conquest of Mexico didn’t need to be in there, but the Quevedo and Caravaggio characters are well drawn, and I did learn something about early modern tennis. (link)

Jakob Wassermann, Michael Hofmann (trans). My Marriage. NYRB Classics, 2016 (1932). A document of hatred tinged with pity... what's disheartening is that the writing doesn't seem to exorcise the hatred, and narration becomes one last ritual of defensive abnegation. (link)

Yu Hua, Andrew Jones (trans). Chronicle of a Blood Merchant. Anchor, 2004 (许三观卖血记 (Xǔ Sānguān Mài Xuè Jì), 1995). The callous, stylized naturalism is established early, making it easier to sneak in sentiment through the back door later on. (link)

Claire-Louise Bennett. Pond. The Stinging Fly Press, 2015. Prose narratives with just about all the furniture stripped away; what's left is style, and an intelligence that reminds me of my favorite online diarists. I look forward to more. (link)

László F. Földényi, Tim Wilkinson (trans), Alberto Manguel (foreword). Melancholy. Yale University Press, 2016 (Melankolia, 1984). But ask not bodies doomed to die / To what abode they go; / Since Knowledge is but Sorrow's spy; / It is not safe to know. / / William Davenant / / I was surprised to see so much more Byron than Keats, but perhaps that's a Continental filter. It does make me want to read more Marsilio Ficino. (link)

Herta Müller, Michael Hofmann (trans). The Land of Green Plums. Granta Books (UK), 2009 (Herztier, 1994). The rhythm of daily life under a dictatorship: annoyance, boredom, terror. Hard-edged sentences, poetic devices that aren’t a relief but a counterweight. (link)

César Aira. The Lime Tree. And Other Stories, 2017 (El tilo, 2003). Restrained for Aira; if you didn’t know better, you’d suspect autobiography. (link)

Tom McCarthy. C. Knopf, 2010. Wonderful pages, but it wants so much to be avant-garde that it entirely flips its coordinates and ends up antiquarian. (link)


Jürgen Becker, Okla Elliott (trans). Blackbirds in September: Selected Shorter Poems of Jurgen Becker. Black Lawrence Press, 2015. The obliquity and brevity made me think of Celan, a bit, though the prosy music is completely different. (link)

Sophocles. Sophocles: Ajax, Electra, Trachiniae, Philoctetes: Loeb Classical #21. Harvard University Press, 1920 (-450). The advantage of the ludicrous English (translated 1913) is that phrases list “dastardly poltroon” don’t compete with the Greek. One foreign language helps out another (link)

Natsume Sōseki, William F. Sibley (trans), Pico Iyer (introduction), Edward Fowler (editor). The Gate. NYRB Classics, 2012 (, 1910). Merciful and merciless both. (link)

Javier Cercas, Frank Wynne (trans). The Impostor. MacLehose Press, 2017 (El impostor, 2014). (link)

Yang Mu, Lawrence R. Smith (trans), Michelle Yeh (trans). No Trace of the Gardener: Poems of Yang Mu. Yale University Press, 1998. Please face east when the Crab / shows an array of autumn hues with its many-legged obscenity / Versatile / / My metamorphosis, Louisa, is incredible / Patterns of wilderness embroidered on my clothes / swallow baby girls like nightfall / I slaughter, vomit, sob, sleep / Versatile / / Please repent with me toward the east / toward the hares of next spring / running and leaping over streams and death's bedding / Please testify with all the pleasures of your senses / Versatile (link)

Javier Cercas. Soldados de Salamina. Tusquets, 2001. Some very successful autofictional tacking between invention and fact. "Only old people will want to read this," his publisher supposedly told him. (link)

Christa Wolf. Kassandra. Suhrkamp, 2008 (1983). - If you can cease your victories, this city of yours will stand. / - You don’t believe it. / - Believe what? / - That we can cease our victories. / - I don’t know of any victor who could. (link)

Audrey Yoshiko Seo, Stephen Addiss. The Art of Twentieth-Century Zen: Paintings and Calligraphy by Japanese Masters. Shambhala, 1998. No money / No things / No teeth / Just me (link)

James Cahill. Distant Mountains: Chinese Painting Of The Late Ming Dynasty, 1570-1644 (History of Later Chinese Painting, 1279-1950). Weatherhill, 1982. Dong Qichang (Tung Ch'i-ch'ang, as Cahill calls him) is the centerpiece; "queasy" is Cahill's word for his rendering of space. These are art-historically self-conscious even by Chinese standards, and Cahill's right to say they don't offer as much immediate pleasure to the eye as early Ming, but Chen Hongshou is a fine way to close the volume out. (link)

Li He, Paul Rouzer (preface), J.D. Frodsham (trans). The Collected Poems of Li He (Calligrams).. As poems these versions don't come up to David Hinton or A.C. Graham, but the notes are excellent, and there's value in seeing Li He complete, with more conventional poems alongside the exotic anthology standards--though one has the sense they might appear less conventional if translated by a different hand. (link)

Heinrich von Kleist. Amphitryon. Reclam, 1994 (1803). The amazing thing is how for a few scenes at a time it will perfectly competently follow Moliére following Plautus; and then the frozen sea cracks open, and there's no end to the depths. (link)

Joseph Cary. Three Modern Italian Poets: Saba, Ungaretti, Montale. University Of Chicago Press, 1993 (1969). Montale, as established, is my favorite; next to him Ungaretti seems needlessly vatic, Saba needlessly coy, but I profited from time with all three. Cary is good company. His casual English renderings of the poems, in small type, are often better than prestige poetic translations by others. The opening chapter, about the previous dismal fin-de-siècle scene, gets off zingers but does not seem unfair. (link)

George Steiner. The Death of Tragedy. Yale University Press, 1996 (1961). A good read for anyone feeling aesthetically obsolete. The young Steiner presents himself as a wide-ranging Europeanist and this book, like Mimesis, leaves you hungry for a bunch of fringe-canonical literature (nineteenth-century plays, mostly) you never knew you had to read. (link)

Hilary Mantel. The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher. 4th Estate, 2014. She's a fine writer when she hits on a worthy subject; the title story is top form. Too much casual cruelty in many of the others. (link)

Yi Mun-Yol. Canto bajo una fortaleza y El pájaro de las alas de oro. Estruendomudo, 2012. Two long stories. Song Under a Fortress (1978) was his first publication and already very together: / war games near the DMZ, an tragicomic Catch-22 military environment. The Bird With Golden Wings is an dying calligrapher looking back on his life and work and judging them failures; the description of the artist's life has many of the strengths of The Poet, but bleaker. (link)

Bernard Williams. Moral Luck: Philosophical Papers 1973-1980. Cambridge University Press, 1982 (1981). Thoughtful papers on "why we go on at all," and related topics. (link)

Novalis, Paul Klee (illustrator), Ralph Manheim (trans). The Novices of Sais. Archipelago, 2005 (Die Lehrlinge zu Sais, 1802). An effusion. Perhaps a Theory of Hesiod. Pairs with the Paul Klee drawings like chocolate and port. (link)

Ivan Goncharov, Stephen Pearl (trans), Galya Diment (introduction). Oblomov. Bunim & Bannigan Ltd, 2006 (Обломов, 1859). I was expecting it to be entirely a novelty piece about inaction, and that part was very funny; but two hundred pages in, Oblomov meets a young lady and the book puts on the full dress of a nineteenth-century novel, a top-notch one at that. (link)

Herta Müller, Philip Boehm (trans). The Fox Was Ever the Hunter: A Novel. Picador, 2017 (Der Fuchs war damals schon der Jäger, 1992). A slow build at first, but the prose is such that one trusts it to go somewhere; where it goes is a world without trust. (link)

Éric Chevillard, Wyatt Mason (trans). Palafox. Archipelago Books, 2004 (1990). It's a romp, and the mutable animal is one of those great unstageable Gogolian conceits... but it's all tilting against some version of realism that may not even exist any more, and wouldn't notice us if it did. (link)

J.J. Phillips. Mojo Hand: An Orphic Tale. City Miner Books, 1985 (1966). It's a glorious tumbledown, and I wish it were the go-to sixties cult book instead of Kerouac. (link)

Eimear McBride. The Lesser Bohemians. Hogarth, 2016. I didn't expect "experimental nineties London erotic catalog" to turn into a generous book about trauma (not a book that uses trauma as a crutch), but am glad to be surprised. (link)

Eugenio Montale. The Collected Poems of Eugenio Montale: 1925-1977. W. W. Norton & Company, 2012 (Tutte le poesie, 1984). The early poems are grand modernist synthesis; the late poems are like my blog when I'm in a bad mood, which is to say, often. (link)