The Sound of Utopia by Michel Krielaars

 

The Sound of Utopia: 

Musicians in the Time of Stalin

by Michel Krielaars

Translated by Jonathan Reeder

Wolf Moon by Julio Llamazares

 

Wolf Moon

by Julio Llamazares

Translated by Simon Deefholts and Kathryn Phillips-Miles 

As Rich as the King by Abigail Assor

As Rich As The King: A Tale of Casablanca

by Abigail Assor

Translated by Natasha Lehrer

The MANIAC by Benjamín Labatut

 

The MANIAC

by Benjamín Labatut

Ancient Sorceries by Algernon Blackwood

Ancient Sorceries

by Algernon Blackwood

Pushkin Press Deluxe Edition

Gaito Gazdanov: An Evening with Claire

An Evening with Claire

by Gaito Gazdanov

translated by Bryan Karetnyk

"The Enchanted Night: Selected Tales" by Miklós Bánffy

 

The Enchanted Night: Selected Tales

by Miklós Bánffy

Translated by Len Rix 

When We Cease to Understand the World by Benjamín Labatut

When We Cease to Understand the World

by Benjamín Labatut

(Translated by Adrian Nathan West) 

A book review

 _____________________________________________

Walking with Bohr, Heisenberg had his first intuition of the radical otherness of the subatomic world. “If a mere particle of dust contains billions of atoms,” Bohr said to him as they were scaling the massifs of the Harz range, “what possible way is there to talk meaningfully of something so small?”  The physicist – like the poet – should not describe the facts of the world, but rather generate metaphors and mental connections. From that summer onwards, Heisenberg understood that to apply concepts of classical physics such as position, velocity and momentum to a subatomic particle was sheer madness. That aspect of nature required a completely new language.

At Night All Blood is Black by David Diop

At Night All Blood is Black

by David Diop

(translated by Anna Moschovakis)

The Others by Sarah Blau

 

The Others 

by Sarah Blau

(translated by Daniella Zamir) 

The Passenger by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz

The Passenger

by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz

translated by Philip Boehm

                                

Whatever I've done in the past, he thought, looks different today than it did back then, because now my humanity is called into question, because I am a Jew...

American Midnight: Tales of the Dark

American Midnight: Tales of the Dark

Stories selected and introduced by Laird Hunt

A book review 

Sins of the Father: "The Marquise of O—" by Heinrich von Kleist

"The Marquise of O—" by Heinrich von Kleist

A review of the Pushkin Classics edition

(translated from the German and introduced by Nicholas Jacobs)

Bohemian rhapsodies: "The Last Bell" by Johannes Urzidil

"The Last Bell"  

Short stories by Johannes Urzidil 

(translated by David Burnett)

The Third Tower by Antal Szerb: A review of the Pushkin Collection edition

The Third Tower - Journeys in Italy 

by Antal Szerb (translated by Len Rix)

A review of the Pushkin Collection edition

Love in the GDR: "The New Sorrows of Young W." by Ulrich Plenzdorf

Love in the GDR...

The New Sorrows of Young W. by Ulrich Plenzdorf

(translated by Romy Fursland, Pushkin Press)

Nazi Apocalypse: Joseph Roth's essays "On the End of the World"

Joseph Roth: On the End of the World

A book review

What use are my words against the guns, the loudspeakers, the murderers, the deranged ministers, the clueless diplomats, the stupid interviewers and journalists who interpret the voice of this world of Babel, muddied anyhow, via the drums of Nuremberg?

In sad resignation

Your Joseph Roth

Mirth in Venice: Antal Szerb's "Oliver VII"

"Oliver VII" by Antal Szerb

A book review

Having encountered Antal Szerb through his best-known work Journey by Moonlight and its companion piece, the non-fiction travelogue The Third Tower: Journeys in Italy, I was initially surprised at the high spirits of this novel, especially since it was written whilst World War II was raging, changing Europe's landscape forever. True, there were humorous passages, as well as an underlying gentle irony, in "Journey by Moonlight", but Oliver VII is an all-out comic novel, with a convoluted plot worthy of opera buffa.

The eponymous protagonist is the monarch of the fictional European realm of Alturia, in an unspecified period "before the War". Rather than conclude a dubious treaty with a neighbouring state (which includes a royal marriage into the bargain), Oliver sets up a coup against himself and escapes from the country. Against the backdrop of a "stagey" Venice, described as a theatre set "where the whole scene sometimes seems to wobble", Oliver joins a group of seasoned con -men and, after several twists and turns, ends up impersonating himself. The novel is peopled by farcical characters, mistaken identities, hilarious set-pieces and even a walk-on part for a panto dame. At times, I felt that the book was midway between the old-world comedy of P.G. Wodehouse and the more biting satire of Evelyn Waugh. Perhaps it is no coincidence that the dialogue in Len Rix's brilliant translation contains a number of Bertie Wooster-ish exclamations, and that it is the appearance of a journalist on the scene (think Scoop) which propels the plot to its upbeat denouement.

 
As the novel progresses, one starts to realise that it is closer to the darker "Journey by Moonlight" than appears at first glance. Surely it's no coincidence that, like Mihaly in the earlier novel, Oliver escapes to the back streets of La Serenissima in a bid to discover "real life". The parallels between the two books (and their autobiographical aspects) are explained in greater detail in the translator's afterword. The work acquires greater poignancy when one discovers discover that this work was the last written by Szerb before, as a Catholic with Jewish ancestry, he was murdered in a labour camp.

This book is another winner from the "Pushkin Collection" series.

Horror and decadence : A review of "The King in Yellow" by Robert W. Chambers

Horror and Decadence

A review of "The King in Yellow" by Robert W. Chambers

I cannot forget Carcosa where black stars hang in the heavens; where the shadows of men’s thoughts lengthen in the afternoon...

The term "weird fiction" could have been coined to describe “The King in Yellow”. First published in 1895, and reissued in a deluxe "gift edition” by Pushkin Press, it features elements of horror and the supernatural and even a touch of science fiction and yet fits uncomfortably under any of these categories. It is frankly, just plain “weird”. 

The book consists of four short stories which are linked by some common characters and, more importantly, by a recurring leitmotiv, a mysterious play called “The King in Yellow”. This play is, purportedly, a work of such evil genius that whoever reads its second act descends into madness and despair. Chambers uses a technique which would later greatly inspire H.P. Lovecraft (he applies it to great effect in his Cthulhu stories) – we are never actually told what the play is all about, the narrators in each story merely make vague references to its contents, leaving us to surmise what evil horrors this banned work might hold within its pages. 

The first story – “The Repairer of Reputations” – is set (like the fourth) in an imagined future America of the 1920s and sets the macabre tone of the work. It is narrated by a young man just out of a mental institution, who has delusions about ruling America in allegiance with the powerful “King in Yellow”. This story recalls Poe in its portrayal of obsession and madness, leading to a bloody denouement. The second tale, "The Mask", is a sort of “Pygmalion” in reverse. Set in France, it tells of a sculptor who discovers a chemical solution which can turn live beings into statues. This story introduces a new ingredient to the mix – the bohemian milieu beloved of fin-de-siecle, decadent literature. It is not uncommon in such works to encounter a fascination with the Catholic faith, or at least, its cultural trappings. This is the case with “In the Court of the Dragon”, in which the protagonist seems to be pursued by a demonic church organist. This sinister predator is likely just a tired musician escaping to the loo during a longish sermon, but to the narrator, fresh from reading that abominable play, he comes across as a malign figure sent by the King in Yellow to claim his soul. “The Yellow Sign” takes us back to 1920s America, but we are again in a world of artists and their models. There is also the presence of a Catholic church, such that at first, the atmosphere is not far removed from that of the previous story. This time round, however, the haunting is not done by an organist but by a “worm-like” churchyard watchman who, it seems, is possessed by the King in Yellow and is after the Yellow Sign, a curious gold clasp found by the narrator’s model.

Chambers’ short story collection originally contained six other stories, but it is only the first four which are linked by the “King of Yellow” theme. So it makes sense for this edition to be limited to these four tales which, partly thanks to Lovecraft, have achieved cult status amongst lovers of weird fiction.

Cover of the first 1895 edition

Hardcover, 160 pages

Published October 26th 2017 by Pushkin Press

Although Chambers was an American author who lived and worked in New York, in his youth – precisely between 1886 and 1903 – he had studied art in Paris, which might explain why his weird tales seem to breathe a decadent French air.  That curious mix of horror and sentimentality, fixation with Catholic motifs alongside a penchant for esoterism, has the slightly overpowering fragrance of fin-de-siecle Paris.  When one thinks of France and decadent literature, one of the first composers who come to mind is Debussy, with his settings of Baudelaire and Verlaine, and his languourous works inspired by Mourey (Syrinx) and Mallarmé (Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune).    

Less known are his unfinished attempts at operas based on Edgar Allan Poe – The Devil in the Belfry and The Fall of the House of Usher.  Of the latter, all that remains is an incomplete libretto and piano sketches for some of the scenes.   What Debussy could have made of Poe’s masterpiece is an intriguing question.

André Caplet (1878 – 1925) is best known for his orchestrations of piano works by Debussy.  He was also a composer in his own right, especially of vocal and choral music. His Mass for 3 voices has the type of French sentimentality would would have been familiar to the demon organist of In the Court of the Dragon.  Caplet was also a fan of Poe, composing two works inspired by The Masque of the Red Death.  Here’s Conte Fantastique, for harp and string quartet:

If esoterism is your cup of tea, some of the works of Erik Satie (1866 – 1925) can strike a chord, even though his ventures into the otherworldly should be taken with a generous pinch of salt.  By 1891, Satie was the official composer and “chapel-master” of the Rosicrucian "Ordre de la Rose-Croix Catholique, du Temple et du Graal".  This led to “ritual” compositions such as Sonneries de la Rose+Croix. These rythmically fluid, chant-like piano pieces can, with hindsight be considered ground-breaking avant-garde works.

Zoom forward to 21st Century America, and a work based directly by Chambers’ The King in Yellow. Melody Eötvös (born 1984) is an Australian-born composer now based in the US, some of whose compositions are inspired by literature of the dark sort by the likes of Neil Gaiman and James De Mille.  “The King in Yellow : Three pieces for Six Instruments” won the Soundstream Collective National Young Composers Award.

Melody Eötvös has now written a follow-up in the shape of an opera:

For a more filmic experience a hugely enjoyable track by Graham Plowman which would work brilliantly as a soundtrack to an imagined horror movie...

Five go on a Finnish Adventure... "Secret Passages in a Hillside Town" by Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen

Five go on a Finnish Adventure : Book review of "Secret Passages in a Hillside Town" by Pasi Ilmari Jääskeläinen (translated by Lola Rogers) 

A few years back I had read Jääskeläinen’s "The Rabbit Back Literature Society". That novel had been compared to “Twin Peaks meeting the Brothers Grimm” and was a dark and cryptic work which hovered rather awkwardly between outright supernatural fiction and magical realism. I had found this ‘ambivalence’ ultimately disappointing, but the novel was intriguing enough to make me want to sample the author’s latest offering, recently translated into English by Lola Rogers.

In its initial chapters, this novel seemed quite different from its predecessor, apart from its small-town setting and “bookish” background. Indeed, it starts off as a gentle, if quirky, tale of mid-life romance. Olli Suominen, the head of a publishing company based in Jyväskylä, is going through a crisis. Book sales are not what they used to be and, as far as family-life is concerned, he seems to be growing distant from his wife and young son. Through Facebook, he gets in touch with Greta Kara, an old flame who has since become the bestselling author of an influential self-help guide to “living a cinematic life”. He somehow convinces her to issue her next book – a ‘magical’ travelogue about Jyväskylä – through his publishing house. This promises to boost Olli’s business, and amorous, prospects.

But Olli’s Facebook exchanges with Greta also rekindle memories of another group of childhood acquaintances – the three Blomroos siblings and their cousin Karri. Together with Timi, Olli’s dog, they formed a Finnish equivalent of the Famous Five. In true Enid Blyton fashion, they spent their summer holidays together, shared long, glorious, sunny days on riverside picnics and solved mysteries along the way. Typically, they also explored secret passages. And here things start to get weird, because unlike the relatively workaday secret passages in Blyton’s novels, the Toulura tunnels seem to warp reality and cause time to go completely off-kilter. Unsurprisingly, Olli’s memories of the secret passages are vague and confused, but we eventually learn that they were the theatre for shocking happenings experienced by Greta and the Tourula Five.

Whether you will enjoy the novel from this point forward will depend on how crazy you like your fiction to be. In my case, I generally prefer novels which follow an internal logic, however strange their premise. And to be honest, it was sometimes difficult to understand where this book was going . But it still hooked me to the last chapter. Or chapters, given that the novel rather puzzlingly presents us with an alternative ending – probably a nod to “alternate movie endings” which are sometimes available on certain movie DVDs.

So, how should we interpret Secret Passages? Should we take it at face value as a work of supernatural fiction? Or is this actually realist fiction, using elements of fantasy to give us a glimpse of the workings of Olli’s mind? Is the book a satire on modern life which, thanks to social media, seems to be all about living a “cinematic life” worth sharing with the world at large? Or is this an adult parody of Enid Blyton mysteries, particularly the underlying gender politics simmering below their surface? Perhaps it’s all of this, but it makes for a wild and crazy ride.

Paperback, 416 pages

Publication Date: December 12th 2017 by Pushkin Press