take a minute to it

2016
2 Qui e t C re ature o n t he Co r n e r
JOÃO GILBERTO NOLL
tra n sl at e d b y A DA M M O R RI S
6 A S p are Li f e
LIDIJA DIMKOVSKA
tra n sl at e d b y C H R I S T I NA E . KR A ME R
10 Tr ys ti ng
EMMANUELLE PAGANO
tra n sl at e d b y J E N N I F E R H I G G INS
& SOPHIE LEWIS
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20
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30
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Q u i e t C r e ature on the Co rner
JOÃO GILBERTO N O L L
translated by ADAM MORRIS
“meeting
the unforgettable narrator of quiet creature on the corner
felt like finding that the narrator of camus’s the stranger had s
­ uddenly
learned new and darker lessons in desire....noll’s is a captivating
voice.”
“noll’s literature
thing. above all,
— Matt Bell, author of Scrapper
doesn’t seek to impart a lesson or demonstrate anyit shows the poetry in the fact that no one individual
is a permanence but rather many simultaneous things.”
— Sergio Chejfec, author of My Two Worlds
JOÃO GILBERTO NOLL is
ADAM MORRIS has received
the Susan Sontag Foundation
Prize in literary translation and
is the translator of Hilda Hilst’s
With My Dog-Eyes (Melville
House Books, 2014). His writing and translations have been
published in BOMB magazine,
the Los Angeles Review of Books,
and many ­others.
the author of nearly 20 books.
He has been a guest of the
­Rockefeller Foundation, King’s
College London, and the University of California at Berkeley, as well as a Guggenheim
Fellow. A five-time recipient
­
of the Prêmio Jabuti, he lives in
Porto Alegre, Brazil.
May 10, 2016 • Novel • $9.95 (paper) $8.99 (ebook) • 120 pgs. • 4.5” X 7”
978-1-931883-51-1 • ebook: 978-1-931883-53-3 • (World English)
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Why do we do the things we do? Might our entire lives pass by without
us ever really understanding just who we are? Reminiscent of the films
of David Lynch, Quiet Creature on the Corner throws us into a strange
world without rational cause and effect, where everyone always seems to
lack just a few necessary facts. The narrator is an unemployed poet who
is thrown in jail after inexplicably raping his neighbor. But when he’s
abruptly taken to a countryside manor, what do his captors really want
from him?
an excerpt from
Quiet Creature on the Corner
At breakfast Kurt was occupying his space at the table. He had his right
arm in a sling, and sometimes Gerda leaned over to help him raise his
cup to his lips.
Otávio was talking a lot, recalling that the anniversary of his
return to Brazil from the war was approaching.
“It was a day like this, sunny,” he mentioned, staring at the pattern on the tablecloth.
Amália was making her rounds of the table, asking if anybody needed anything, dissembling and stealing chances to wink at me
­furtively. The night before she’d remained for hours sitting on the ground,
leaning against the bed: it was raining, there was a leak, the whole shed
damp, and Amália, nude above the waist, told me that Gerda had cancer—she and Kurt had already gone to Rio de Janeiro a few times to
see a famous doctor, one time Gerda stayed there for weeks, checked
into a clinic—I told Amália that out here with her I didn’t want to hear
anything about illness, and I went to her and started licking her breasts,
sucking, started unbuttoning my pants, asked her to touch me, and she
touched me, a drop of rain got through the shaft in the roof and wet
my nose, I was about to cum in her hand, her breasts seemed very full,
swollen, I was afraid she was pregnant, but my dread lasted only a second, and then I returned to sucking and biting her two breasts, because
I remembered it had been a long time since I came inside her, so I could
keep on sucking and biting her two breasts with peace of mind, the rain
drumming on the zinc way up high, and suddenly Amália let out a yell,
and shouted, murderer, murderer, twice, and I, who was wrapped in her
arms, got up, took her hand, and saw deep in her eyes a sign of alarm, but
concluded that I didn’t feel like deciphering it.
4
I passed Kurt in the hallway, and for the first time he showed
me a real smile. What’s happening? I asked myself, what am I doing that
would make him so decisively happy?
I left the manor and went through the surrounding fields, racking my brains to see if I could understand that smile: What trait could
bring such a pleasured look to his eye? I needed to discover what it was
so I could broaden my access to this strange benefactor.
I sat on the highest part of the low hill and looked down to see
Amália throwing things on an enormous fire—papers, cardboard boxes,
wood, broken springs—it was making a lot of smoke, and I got down low
so that she wouldn’t be able to see me.
I stayed there, lying on my belly in the tall grass, hidden in a war
trench, daydreaming that I was entering an unknown world, and that to
remain in it I’d need skills.
The strong burning smell left me a little stupid, and into my
head leaped the hypothesis that Kurt had set me up, that he’d never give
anything up. I turned my belly to the sky, exhaled slowly. Overhead, an
airplane was heading south.
Days later I wrote a whole poem in one sitting called “Scenes of
War”—the distant stamping, surrounding quake, a hemorrhage running
from the nostrils of a boy as he woke.
The poem, written on that paper…even if I slipped away, the
poem would still be there, and I thought about how they gave me very
little to do besides write poems, and that, until that day, I hadn’t really
determined anything about my new situation—in that huge house, surrounded by fields.
5
A Spare Life
LIDIJA DIM KOVS K A
translated by CHRISTINA E. KRAMER
“the truth is she’s unstoppable and will not be ignored.”
— Poetry Foundation
“english-language readers would be poorer without [her].”
— Publishers Weekly
LIDIJA DIMKOVSKA won the
CHRISTINA KRAMER is a
professor of Balkan and ­Slavic
languages and linguistics at the
University of Toronto. She’s the
author of numerous books on
the Macedonian language and
the Balkans and has translated
Freud’s Sister: A Novel, The Time
of the Goats, and My ­
Father’s
Books. She lives in Toronto.
­ uropean Union Prize for LitE
erature for A Spare Life. She is
the author of the poetry collections pH Neutral History (Copper Canyon, 2012), a finalist
for the Best Translated Book
Award, and Do Not Awaken
Them with Hammers (2006).
She lives in Ljubljana, Slovenia.
October 11, 2016 • Novel • $14.95 (paper) $9.99 (ebook) • 432 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-55-9 • ebook: 978-1-931883-57-3 • (North America)
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NEW
Zlata and Srebra are twelve-year-old twins conjoined at the head. ­Treated
as freaks and outcasts—even by their own family—the twins just want
to be normal girls. But after an incident that almost destroys their bond
as sisters, they fly to London, determined to be surgically separated. Will
this be their liberation, or only more tightly ensnare them?
At once extraordinary and quotidian, A Spare Life is a chronicle
of two girls who are among the first generation to come of age under
democracy in Eastern Europe. It is a saga about families, sisterhood, immigration, and the occult influences that shape a life.
an excerpt from
A Spare Life
Even when we were little, if she felt she needed to pee during the night,
she would throw off the comforter and jump out of bed, which meant
she would, with no consideration at all, tug at me, jolt me awake from my
sleep and force me to my feet even though I was still in a haze between
the dream world and reality. The pain would be so intense in the spot
where we were conjoined that I would scream in horror, while Srebra,
teeth clenched, would already be running to the bathroom, dragging me
with her. Once there, while one of us sat on the toilet seat, the other had
to bend down and sit too, which most often meant plopping down on
the blue plastic trashcan that we moved to the left or right of the toilet
depending on which of us was sitting on the seat. In that trashcan we
not only threw away the paper—which was not scented toilet paper, but
typewriter paper my mother would sneak from her office and then tear
into quarters so we could wipe ourselves after doing our business—but
also kitchen waste, leftovers, and all manner of garbage.
I was often cruel, too, yanking her suddenly in some unexpected
direction, but I was aware that our heads were joined together, that we
should be careful how we moved every minute so as not to hurt ourselves,
because the pain at our temples where our heads were joined was unbearable whenever one of us made a sudden unanticipated movement. Srebra
was also aware that we were two in one, but only physically—whenever
her head started to ache—not psychologically; she would dream up great
plans for her life, and she simply took no account of my desires or of our
joint capabilities. She was certain that one day, when we were grown and
had a lot of money, we’d be able to pay for the surgery that could separate
us. She believed it so intensely that even when our heads were still conjoined, she was making plans as if we’d already been separated.
8
It was like that with the fortune-telling game, too, when she
said to me in an absolutely calm voice, “I’ve told you a hundred times I
want to live in London, and you haven’t written it down. Look, you put
down the letter S. That must be Skopje, but I’m not staying here, not for
anything in the world! In London they will surely be able to separate us.
They have those kinds of doctors.”
My eyes were already welling up with tears. I pinched her with
my left hand on her right elbow as hard as I could. Srebra raised her left
arm over her head and smacked me on the head as hard as she could.
Those blows on the head she used to give me would hurt for days. Mom
once said to her, “If you continue on like this, one day you’re going to
punch a hole in her brain and I don’t even dare think what would happen
to us then!” And, as always, our father added, “Voracious creatures, you’ve
devoured the world!”
Although our heads were not merely joined but shared a vein
in which our blood mixed (and in moments of excitement, anxiety, or
other extreme situations in our life we both felt our hearts beating in our
temples), we thought differently; that is, our brains were not conjoined. I
still don’t know whether this was a lucky or an unlucky circumstance of
our lives.
This is why whenever Srebra hit me on the head, she would hiss
at me, “Don’t you dare tattle at home!” But this time, she did not manage
to say anything, because I had started to cry so desperately that Roze
immediately bent over us and wiped my tears away with her hand.
“Come on, Zlata, don’t. Look how nicely things are going to
turn out for you. Your husband will be a millionaire and you’re going to
have one child, and with all those millions, you’re sure to find a doctor to
have your heads separated.” I was crying and kneeling down, stock-still,
sensing that in Srebra’s mind she was already leaving for London, alone,
without me, and I was nowhere. I felt I was not there, that I didn’t exist.
9
Tr ys ti n g
EM M ANUELLE PAG A N O
translated by JENNIFER HIGGINS & SOPHIE LEWIS
“emmanuelle
pagano sends every reader back to familiar territory. her
book is full of discreet and recognizable emotion.”
— Le Monde
“in this little game of references, it’s the sharp eye of duras...that must be
evoked, or of violette leduc and the essential fantasy of emily d
­ ickinson.
emmanuelle pagano: remember her name!”
— Le Figaro
EMMANUELLE PAGANO is the
HIGGINS is a
freelance translator and editor
based in ­Oxford, U.K.
JENNIFER
recipient of numerous awards,
including the European Union
Prize for Literature for her
novel Les Adolescents troglodytes.
The author of seven works of
literature with the prestigious
French publisher P.O.L, she
lives in Ardèche, France.
SOPHIE ­LEWIS’s ­translations
include The Earth Turned ­Upside
Down by Jules Verne and
Thérèse and Isabelle by Violette
Leduc. An editor at large for
And Other Stories P
­ ublishing,
she lives in London.
November 15, 2016 • Novel • $14.95 (paper) $9.99 (ebook) • 224 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-56-6 • ebook: 978-1-931883-58-0 • (North America)
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NEW
Trysting creates a unity out of the unique, with glimpses into nearly three
hundred distinct relationships: romances between various ages, genders,
and sexualities. Anything can be a vehicle for Pagano’s imagination—
amnesia, sex, throat-clearing, sign language, earplugs, antidepressants,
arthritis, leather, paint, or floorboards. This potent mixture of aphorisms
and compact stories inspires us to reimagine both love itself and our own,
very personal, loves.
an excerpt from
Trysting
on time because I never know exactly how late she’s going to be. Sometimes just a few minutes, sometimes more, much more. I arrive at the
place we’ve arranged to meet and say to myself: here goes. I read. I always
bring a book with me but after a couple of chapters I’m already worrying,
despite myself. I carry on worrying for goodness knows how many pages.
13
10
He doesn’t like eating anything that still has its skin on. He gets rid of it
with his tongue or his fingers before eating whatever’s inside. He scoops
out the filling of black pudding, holding the skin down carefully with his
fork. Even grapes and figs have to be peeled. I make fun of his fussiness.
But I let him get on with it, and my teasing is gentle and affectionate.
Sometimes I extract the flesh for him and put it into a little dish, then
rinse my fingers.
11
His son had a birthday party this afternoon, and my son was invited.
When we arrived, he was blowing up balloons. He offered me a coffee,
which I drank with a few other parents who were still hanging around,
and then he sent us all away, telling us to come back and collect our
children around five or six o’clock. Yes, he’d cope fine by himself. My son
fell asleep in the car on the way home, tired out from the games and full
of sweets, the balloons he had been given as souvenirs floating around
him. I didn’t wake him up straight away when we got back. I caught hold
of a big, bright yellow balloon, pressed the opening to my lips, and let it
deflate slowly, breathing in his air.
12
She and I have been playing a waiting game right from the start. I’m
­
always the one waiting and she’s always late. I’ve gotten used to it. I arrive
12
He had begun his adult life by dying, as many adolescents do, but unlike
most, he never stopped doing it. He would die regularly, every two or
three years or so, and nothing anybody said or did ever stopped him.
After each failed attempt, he would bounce back, rediscover his enthusiasm for life, and meet a new woman. Sometimes it was actually the
same woman but they always seemed new to him. As far as he was concerned, it was a complete regeneration each time. With each new life,
he was unashamedly joyful. I was one of those new women; the last.
During his revivals, he even had children, one with me. He was alive.
And then, without showing any signs of it at first, he started dying. His
four children were thriving, they loved him, I loved him, he had a good
job, everything was fine, and suddenly, just like that, he was dying again.
Only to be reborn. As new. You might almost think that he had simply
metamorphosed, shed his skin, if it weren’t for all the scars, the traces of
his deaths, which were deeper and more numerous each time. He had
never taken pills; his deaths were always violent. It was death by hanging,
drowning, or shooting. The second-to-last time, he took off the bottom
half of his face, but he still got up smiling, smiling without a chin.
14
When he was in my flat, he would constantly bang into things. He
couldn’t find the doors or the switches and he kept forgetting where the
furniture was. Every protruding chair leg was a potential trap. When he
was in my flat he was clumsy and blind, as though he wasn’t really there.
13
T h e B o ys
TONI SALA
translated by MARA FAYE LETHEM
“altogether
brilliant.”
— Kirkus (starred review)
“translation-savvy readers might hear a little rodoreda and monzó in
sala’s prose, but the most significant comparison could be to bolaño’s
more iberian-inflected work—light-footed, death-haunted sentences that
tumble along at the shuddering speed of a car crash.”
— BOMB magazine
“the
boys is a stark tale of confused people trapped in a wrinkle in time,
rendered with painful sensitivity and gut-wrenching bleakness. no sur-
prise that toni sala has been praised as one of catalan’s most important
— CounterPunch
Already decimated by a harsh recession, the once-bucolic village of
Vidreres is shocked when two young men die in a horrible car crash. Four
characters, their lives and voices intertwined, grapple with their own guilt
over the unfathomable loss of the boys, and perhaps their whole town.
The Boys is a sinister, fast-moving tale laced with intricate meditations on
everything from Internet hookups to Spain’s economic collapse to the
incomprehensibility of death.
TONI SALA is the author
MARA FAYE LETHEM is the
translator of Papers in the Wind
by Eduardo Sacheri, ­Wonderful
World by Javier ­
Calvo, and
others, and her translations
­
have appeared in Granta,
McSweeney’s, The Paris Review,
and elsewhere.
of over a dozen novels and
works of nonfiction. In 2005
he was awarded the ­
National
­Literature Prize by the Catalan
government, and he has also
received many other honors for
his ­writing.
November 10, 2015 • Novel • $14.95 (paper) $9.99 (ebook) • 224 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-49-8 • ebook: 978-1-931883-50-4 • (World English)
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RECENT TITLE
writers.”
T h e S l e e p o f the R ighteo u s
WOLFGANG H ILB I G
translated by ISABEL FARG O COLE
introduction by LÁSZLÓ KRASZNAHORKAI
“wolfgang
“...a
hilbig is an artist of immense stature.”
hallucinatory blend of present and past that evokes the luminous
prose of w.g. sebald.”
— from the introduction by László Krasznahorkai
— New York Times
“out of the ugliness of history and the wasted landscapes of his home,
[hilbig] has created stories of disconsolate beauty, not to prettify that
ugliness but to bare it to the light.”
— Wall Street Journal
WOLFGANG HILBIG (1941–
2007) was one of the major
German writers to emerge in
the postwar era. The author of
over 20 books, he received virtually all of Germany’s major
literary prizes, capped by the
2002 Georg Büchner Prize,
Germany’s highest literary
honor.
FARGO
COLE’s
translations include Boys and
Murderers by Hermann ­Ungar,
All the Roads Are Open by
­Annemarie
Schwarzenbach,
and The Jew Car by Franz
­Fühmann. She is the recipient
of a PEN/Heim Translation
Grant.
ISABEL
October 13, 2015 • Stories • $14.95 (paper) $9.99 (ebook) • 163 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-47-4 • ebook: 978-1-931883-48-1 • (World English)
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RECENT TITLE
Delving deep into the psyches of both East and West Germany, The Sleep
of the Righteous reveals a powerful, apocalyptic, utterly personal account
of the century-defining nation. From a youth in a war-scarred industrial
town to surreal confrontations with wraithlike Stasi agents, Hilbig’s cipher is at once himself and anyone ensnared by the clash of cultures. Hilbig creates an original, visionary statement on the ravages of ­history—
and the promises of the future.
T h e G a me for R ea l
R ICHAR D WEINE R
translated by BENJAMIN PAL OFF
“these
novellas are intense, funny, and vivid explorations of selfhood
and identity. their publication was long overdue.”
“the
— Electric Literature
crowning achievement of richard weiner’s career and one of the
most powerful works of czech modernism.“
“for me, the pinnacles
— PEN America
of prose are hašek, kafka, weiner, klima.”
— Bohumil Hrabal, author of Harlequin’s Millions
RICHARD WEINER (1884 –
1937) is widely considered to
be one of the most ­important
Czech writers of the twentieth
century. His writing was suppressed during the Communist
period and only became recognized after 1989.
BENJAMIN PALOFF is a pro-
fessor of Slavic languages and
literatures at the University
of Michigan. The translator
of several works of prose and
poetry, he is the recipient of
fellowships from the National
Endowment for the Arts and
PEN America.
May 12, 2015 • Novellas • $14.95 (paper) $9.99 (ebook) • 296 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-44-3 • ebook: 978-1-931883-45-0
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RECENT TITLE
In two masterful novellas blending metaphysical questions with farcical
humor, bizarre twists, and acute psychology, The Game for Real is a riveting exploration of who we are—and why we can’t be so sure we know. In
“The Game of Quartering” an unnamed hero finds his double. Surely, he
reasons, if he has a double, then his double must have a double, and so
on. Then, in “The Game for the Honor of Payback,” a man known only as
“Shame” is slapped, and launches a doomed crusade to return the insult.
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For over two decades, Two Lines has been at the forefront of world
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­ ublished in the spring and fall, each issue is printed
­bilingually and combines prose, poetry, and creative, genre-defying essays
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23
Se lf- Po rtrait i n G reen
Ba b oon
M AR I E N D I AYE
NA JA M A R I E A I D T
translated by JORDAN STUMP
translated by DENISE NEWMAN
“wades through feminine fear,
power, and insecurity like no other
book i’ve encountered.“
explosive collection.”
— Los Angeles Times
— Flavorwire
“naja
“eerie
the surface of our otherwise calm
and mysterious...a kind of
french african elena ferrante.”
— Terese Svoboda
“a
sort of malicious reverie where
the real mingles with the imagined,
marie aidt’s stories ask not
only what could be hiding beneath
lives, but what has been hiding
there all along.... she is the writer
of dark secrets.”
— Sarah Gerard, author of Binary Star
the living with the dead, the water
“[a]
— L’Express (Paris)
— Los Angeles Review of Books
with the land.”
winner
of
the
clmp
firecracker
violent, beautiful, breathlessly
paced collection.”
winner of the pen translation prize
award for creative nonfiction
MARIE NDIAYE is the
recipient of the Prix
Femina and the Prix
Goncourt, and one of
ten finalists for the 2013
Booker International
Prize. She is the author
of over a dozen plays
and works of prose.
JORDAN STUMP’s
translation of NDiaye’s
All My Friends was
shortlisted for the
French-American
Foundation Translation
Prize.
Who are the green women? They are
powerful, mysterious, seductive, and unbearably personal.
Here, in her own skewed take
on the memoir, NDiaye combs through
all the menacing, beguiling, and revelatory memories submerged beneath the
consciousness of a singular literary talent.
Mysterious, honest, and unabashedly innovative, NDiaye’s self-portrait forces us
all to ask questions—about what we repress, how we discover those things, and
how those obsessions become us.
Beginning in the middle of crisis, then
accelerating through plots that grow
stranger by the page, Naja Marie Aidt’s
stories have a feel all their own. Though
they are built around the common questions of sex, love, desire, and gender relations, Aidt pushes them into her own
desperate, frantic realm. The first book
from the widely lauded Aidt to reach the
English language, Baboon delivers audacious writing that careens toward bizarre,
yet utterly truthful, realizations.
November, 2014 • Memoir • $9.95 (paper)
$7.99 (ebook) • 112 pgs. • 4.5” X 7”
978-1-931883-39-9
ebook: 978-1-931883-42-9 (N. America)
October, 2014 • Stories • $12.95 (paper)
$9.99 (ebook) • 200 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-38-2
ebook: 978-1-931883-41-2 (World)
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NAJA MARIE AIDT
is the author of over
20 books. She received
the Nordic Council
­Literature Prize for
Baboon.
DENISE NEWMAN has
published three collections of her own poems
and translated Inger
Christensen in additon
to Naja Marie Aidt.
She received the PEN
Translation prize for her
translation of Baboon.
ALSO AVAILABLE
ALSO AVAILABLE
“an
T h e Fat a Mor ga n a Books
Runn in g t hrough B eiji ng
JO NAT HA N L I T T E L L
XU ZECHEN
translated by CHARL OT TE MANDELL
translated by ERIC ABRAHAMSEN
“the
novel captures the taste and
tension of beijing better than any
i’ve ever read.”
— Los Angeles Review of Books
“a
window onto beijing’s seamy,
crime-ridden underbelly...a vibrant
story by one of china’s rising
young writers.”
“running through beijing is clean
and fast, deeply felt and very
smart...” — Roy Kesey
nightmarish novellas...the
writing is sinuous and propulsive.”
— The New Yorker
“here
genetalia prove as amorphous
as the desires they incite, and
slaughter leaves only casual impressions upon its casualties.“
— BOMB magazine
“these
stories lead the reader on a
race through the abyss...”
— Paul La Farge
shortlisted for the national
t­ranslation award
XU ZECHEN is the
a­ uthor of the novels
Midnight’s Door, Night
Train, and Heaven on
Earth. He was selected
by People’s Literature as
one of the “Future 20”
best Chinese writers
under 41.
ERIC ABRAHAMSEN
is the recipient of translation grants from PEN
and the NEA, and in
2012 Penguin published
his translation of The
Civil Servant’s Notebook
by Wang Xiaofang.
Leading young Chinese author Xu
Zechen guides us through an under­
world of constant thievery, hard-core
porn, cops (both real and fake), prison,
bribery, crazy landladies, rampant drinking, and the smothering, bone-dry dust
storms that blanket one of the world’s
largest cities in thick layers of grime.
Like a literary Run Lola Run, the book
follows a hustling hero rushing to stay
just one step ahead of a world constantly
fighting to drag him down.
After the astonishing success of his Prix
Goncourt–winning debut novel, The
Kindly Ones, Jonathan Littell returns
with four new novellas that offer fresh
depictions of age-old obsessions. With
fleet prose and Proustian ­self-reflection,
these stories range from chaotic airlifts to bullfights under the hot sun. The
Fata Morgana Books pushes through to
explore the spaces between thoughts,
between bodies, between hungers and
their satisfactions, between eyes and the
things they look at.
July, 2014 • Novel • $12.95 (paper)
$8.99 (ebook) • 168 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-36-8
ebook: 978-1-931883-40-5 (N. America)
November, 2013 • Novellas • $14.95 (paper)
$9.95 (ebook) • 192 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-34-4
ebook: 978-1-931883-35-1 (N. America)
26
27
JONATHAN ­LITTELL
received the Prix
­ oncourt for his novel
G
The Kindly Ones, called
by Time magazine
“unmistakably the work
of a profoundly gifted
­writer.”
CHARLOTTE ­MANDELL
is the translator of numerous ­award-winning
works of innovative
French literature, including works by Proust,
Blanchot, and Rancière.
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— Book Riot
“four
Hi, t h is is C on c h it a
A l l My Friends
SA N T I AG O R O N C AG L I O L O
M AR I E N D I AYE
translated by EDITH GROSSMAN
translated by JORDAN STUMP
“[ndiaye]
brings to life an electri-
fying rogue’s gallery of social
outcasts, disgruntled wives, and
loony strivers...stump’s perfectly
calibrated translation captures the
rich timbre and fearsome bite of
ndiaye’s chiseled prose.”
— Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“a
superb short-story collection...
JORDAN STUMP’s
translation of NDiaye’s
All My Friends was
shortlisted for the
French-American
Foundation Translation
Prize.
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“roncagliolo
is an incredibly gifted
storyteller who is able to execute
many writing styles.... ­roncagliolo
world writer.”
are isolated by default, we are all
reminds us that, although we
— Rain Taxi Review of Books
connected to each other in some
“this book is a world.“
— SF Weekly (summer reading pick)
— Three Percent
French phenomenon Marie NDiaye
shows the full range of her immense talents with five intricately ­narrated stories
showcasing characters both r­ obustly real
and emotionally ­unfathomable.
In All My Friends a master stylist uses her unique gifts to render the
personal horrors we fight every day to
suppress—but in All My Friends they’re
allowed to roam free.
June, 2013 • Stories • $14.95 (paper)
$9.99 (ebook) • 152 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-23-8
ebook: 978-1-931883-24-5 (N. America)
28
“there’s a lot to like—and laugh
at—here, especially riffs on the
awfulness of meg ryan movies.“
— Publishers Weekly
way.”
Independent Foreign Fiction Prize
winner Santiago Roncagliolo returns
­
with his acclaimed translator Edith
Grossman with these raucous, dark, and
entrancing tales.
Peru’s heir to the literature of
Mario Vargas Llosa weaves a complex
tale of an office worker hiring a hitman
to kill his mistress, a man leaving feverish messages on his beloved’s ­answering
machine, and a phone sex w
­ orker whose
client is literally crazy about her.
April, 2013 • Stories • $17.95 (paper)
$9.99 (ebook) • 184 pgs. • 5” X 8”
978-1-931883-22-1
ebook: 978-1-931883-32-0 (N. America)
29
SANTIAGO
­RONCAGLIOLO’s first
novel, Red April, won
the Premio Alfaguara
and the Independent
Foreign Fiction Prize.
EDITH GROSSMAN
is one of English’s most
renowned translators.
She has translated key
works by Gabriel García
Márquez, Mario Vargas
Llosa, and others.
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recipient of the Prix
Femina and the Prix
Goncourt, and one of
ten finalists for the 2013
Booker International
Prize. She is the author
of over a dozen plays
and works of prose.
cause for celebration”
— Daniel AlarcÓn
explains why she is increasingly—
and justly—recognized as a major
MARIE NDIAYE is the
“a
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