Posted on

James Wood reviews My Struggle for The New Yorker

…[T]here is…a simplicity, an openness, and an innocence in his relation to life, and thus in his relation to the reader. Where many contemporary writers would reflexively turn to irony, Knausgaard is intense and utterly honest, unafraid to voice universal anxieties, unafraid to appear naïve or awkward. Although his sentences are long and loose, they are not cutely or aimlessly digressive: truth is repeatedly being struck at, not chatted up.

James Wood on Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle, for The New Yorker


Read it HERE!

Posted on

How one translator proved Virginia Woolf wrong

“Humor is the first gift to perish in a foreign language.” -Virginia Woolf

Anyone who has read David Frick’s translation of Jerzy Pilch’s My First Suicide (Open Letter) knows that with a good translator, translated texts don’t have to lose anything, least of all their ability to make us laugh. This book is straight up hilarious, y’all.