Winter 2022

The Winter Issue | 2022

Poetry by Nelly Sachs, Josef Kučera, Mark Scroggins, and Tim Postovit. Fiction by Marek Šindelka, Elena Alexieva, Duncan Robertson, and Daša Drndić. Interviews with Alan Bilton, Tatiana Tîbuleac, and Joshua Weiner. An essay by Marina Porras. Reviews of Flight and Metamorphosis by Nelly Sachs, translated by Joshua Weiner; Dream of a Journey: Selected Poems by Kateřina Rudčenková, translated by Alexandra Büchler; and My Seven Lives by Agneša Kalinová, translated by Julia Sherwood and Peter Sherwood. Reviews of other new translations in our Books in Brief.

The Winter Issue | 2022

Poetry by Nelly Sachs, Josef Kučera, Mark Scroggins, and Tim Postovit. Fiction by Marek Šindelka, Elena Alexieva, Duncan Robertson, and Daša Drndić. Interviews with Alan Bilton, Tatiana Tîbuleac, and Joshua Weiner. An essay by Marina Porras. Reviews of Flight and Metamorphosis by Nelly Sachs, translated by Joshua Weiner; Dream of a Journey: Selected Poems by Kateřina Rudčenková, translated by Alexandra Büchler; and My Seven Lives by Agneša Kalinová, translated by Julia Sherwood and Peter Sherwood. Reviews of other new translations in our Books in Brief.

Tim Postovit

I was the last place on the planet / where astronauts slept / my last customers were the planet’s / last people

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Daša Drndić

I discovered a lot of secrets, a lot of combinations, dark, political, religious, ideological, personal, to do with chess; spying, double and triple secret agents from all camps, secret police involved in dirty activities.

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Duncan Robertson

One of those things most difficult to convey about the special conditions in which we lived was the visegradišag: that everything, buying bread, recycling, riding the tram, came with a surreal associated cost that was impossible to anticipate …

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Marina Porras

They are women who want to look into the mirror and be satisfied with their reflection. Envy is born when you look into the mirror and don’t like what you see there. Everything about this sin begins with the eyes.

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Josef Kučera

There was a rippling pond and the croaking of frogs / and various birds anas crecca, / there was the tingling of sand on the Borecké Rocks / and the cracking of pinecones

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Elena Alexieva

For a moment, she wondered where all dead birds go when they die, which probably happens every minute of every hour, so really, birds should be falling from the sky not just from time to time, but raining down constantly …

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Marek Šindelka

A girl boarded the train. Actually, she was no longer a girl, because she was about thirty. But there was something in her behaviour and her appearance which suggested that, body aside, she was still a girl.

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