Swedish Academy Members Set Return; Then Not Return

Hello Gentle Reader

It’s been a confusing day or two, for the Swedish Academy. Since a scandalous spring and the academy’s international strife and eventual split, the Swedish Academy has been at the center of attention, as well as the subject of discussions, debates, and gossip over the past few months. Yesterday, the Swedish newspaper:  Svenska Dagbladet; had published an article claiming that: Sara Danius, Peter Englund, and Kjell Espmark, would be returning to the academy. Today, this report has been called erroneous and misinformed. Sara Danius for example, has stated she has neither desire, nor wish, or plan on returning to the Swedish Academy. Peter Englund, has also stated he has no desire to return to the Academy on any functionary basis; however, he has also stated, he has or is considering returning to the academy on the premise of only voting in new members, and has no desire to participate in any matters beyond this. Kjell Espmark, on the flipside has stated that he is open in returning to the Swedish Academy, on the grounds of assisting in in voting and inducting new members into the Swedish Academy and by extension may have eluded that Sara Danius and Peter Englund would be joining him helping the embattled academy to regain its required numbers once again.

The reports are flippant and unsure of which case is true. Though it appears concrete that Sara Danius will not be rejoining the Swedish Academy any time soon; as for Peter Englund there remains slight uncertainties, though he may participate on electing and inducting new members into the distraught institution; and Kjell Espmark has made it clear he will most likely reconvene with the Swedish Academy, in order to help them elect new members, and help rebuild and reestablish the Swedish Academy to its former glory, what that entails is still unclear.

The reports and statements at this time remain subjects of scrutiny, as individuals seek to find clarity about the situation. Of course these statements appear less achromous then of those prior, when the above trio stated they would return to help the Swedish Academy rebuild itself on the condition that Horace Engdahl resigns. Engdahl fired back stating these demands came from a ‘clique of sore losers,’ and that they were more than welcome to return then whenever they wish, without making such egregious demands. In another joint statement from Peter Englund, Kjell Espmark and Sara Danius, is they wish to clarify a few points of issues with their stance on the Swedish Academy, and its remaining members: they have considered the possibility of reconvening with the academy as it currently stands, in a passive position to vote in new members; that is all.

The Swedish Academy will meet for the first time since its summer break on September 6^th. For now Gentle Reader, the future of the Swedish Academy remains uncertain as it teeters on the edge of purgatory, where it will be either be damned; or it will begin the slow crawl from the ashen ruins, and begin to rebuild not only itself but its reputation, prestige and integrity.

Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader

Take Care

And As Always

Stay Well Read

M. Mary

For Further Reading Gentle Reader, Please see the following articles:

"Ex members of Nobel literature body 'no plans on returning'"

"Swedish Academy members deny full return to scandal-ridden body,"

"Englund and Danius: "No plans to return""

"3 members of Nobel literature prize body to return,"

The Alternative Nobel Prize, Shortlist

Hello Gentle Reader

The Alternative Nobel Prize, has listed the following writers, as those who have received the majority votes to be considered heavily on the shortlist. The following four writers are:

Haruki Murakami – Japan

Maryse Condé – Guadeloupe

Neil Gaiman – United Kingdom

Kim Thúy – Vietnam/Canada

From a longlist of forty-seven writers, the above four are what the shortlist remains. When reviewing the shortlist in comparison to the longlist, one is left slightly baffled and even wondering. On the longlist, twelve writers were nominated from Sweden and another twelve were nominated for the United States of America, for a grand total of twenty four writers being nominated from those two countries alone. The shortlist, which in part was drafted by the votes collected online, apparently paid neither attention, or mind to those authors hailing from those regions.

Overall the shortlist appears rather shocking when one considers some of the writers who were included on the longlist such as: Margaret Atwood, J.K. Rowling, Elena Ferrante, Don DeLillo, Olga Tokarczuk, Thomas Pynchon, Cormac McCarthy, and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o. The only writer, named on the shortlist that has ever been considered a frontrunner for the Nobel Prize for Literature, is: Haruki Murakami. Maryse Condé, has been discussed lightly on the edges—she was nominated for the Man Booker International Prize; while Neil Gaiman, has never been considered for the prize (at least to our knowledge), and this would be the first time Kim Thúy, has had any connection near or otherwise to the Nobel Prize for Literature, and subsequent speculation.

This makes for an interesting shortlist; but it also means the merits of the shortlist are also brought into question. Whenever an organization or an institution solicits the of the public, the results can always eschewed and criticized for lacking any depth or knowledge on the institutions part, in which case they would rely on the populist perspective in order to make a decision. It can certainly be stated, this is not the Nobel Prize for Literature, and it is certainly not a shortlist which would be associated with the Swedish Academy.

In the end, one can wish the shortlisted authors the best of luck. My bets are, is one will probably see Haruki Murakami walking away with the award, considering his reputation and international appeal.

Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader

Take Care

And As Always

Stay Well Read

M. Mary

The Nobel Prize for Literature: What Little Remains

Hello Gentle Reader

Summer break is coming to a close both for students but also the Swedish Academy. Since the start of the summer it has been quiet on the front of the Swedish Academy, who has retained its stony silence since the eruption of scandal in the spring, which has seen the Academy’s numbers dwindled down to ten active sitting members and the Nobel Prize for Literature for two-thousand and eighteen being postponed until two-thousand and nineteen. Considering the state and behaviour of the Swedish Academy over the past few months, the Nobel Foundation, has grown increasingly concerned about the conduct and the reputation of the academy, which it believes has damaged the Noble Prize for Literatures prestige and reputation. The Executive Director of the Nobel Foundation, Lars Heikensten has been expressed grave concern about the conduct of the Swedish Academy and has encouraged the academy to repair its reputation and organize its affairs, while regaining the public’s trust. Lars Heikensten understands his authority over the awarding institutions is limited, but has made it quite clear that in the event the Swedish Academy is unable to restore faith with the public, as the executive director of the Nobel Foundation, and therefore the executor of Alfred Nobel’s will, the Nobel Foundation has the authority and ability to withhold the prize money to any future laureate, on the grounds the Swedish Academy has still failed in resolving its internal governance issues, and regaining the trust from the public. Yet it is speculated that in the event the Swedish Academy continues tromp and trudge in its current direction, the Nobel Foundation, will seek an alternative institution to award the Nobel Prize for Literature; however, this route is rumored to be expensive and legally contentious.

Considering the events over the spring, as well as the facts there has been no move or word from the Swedish Academy as to how it will rebuild itself, the Nobel Foundation had sent a letter to the academy proposing a temporary solution, while the Swedish Academy organizes its affairs. The temporary solution proposed by Lars Heikensten, on behalf of the Nobel Foundation, was to create in essence a shadow committee of the Swedish Academy, who would receive nominations for the Nobel Prize for Literature, then organize and adjudicate accordingly, before sitting down for the final stages of discussions, debates, and the final vote. This would mean the award going forward would not be tainted by the current body’s previous behaviour and conduct. Sadly, however, Anders Olsson the pro temporare Permanent Secretary of the Swedish Academy wrote back to the Nobel Foundation whereby he declined their request, on behalf of the remaining members of the Swedish Academy. Andres Olsson points out; the request raises numerous legalities and challenges, to which Lars Heikensten pointedly made clear: everything at this point is going to be met with legalities and legal uncertainties, yet accepts the decision of the academy as their own by their own autonomy. The remaining members of the Swedish Academy have seen fit they seek to handle the matter internally, to which Lars Heikensten has made it clear that the ball is in their court, and they truly are on their own to repair their reputation, rebuild their fractured and damage institution, and regain the trust of the public, while restoring the integrity of the award.

Personally, I am not sure how the Swedish Academy intends to move forward at this point. First of all they lack the necessary members to hold a quorum. If my research is correct, they need twelve members to

A: elect new members;

B: come to a consensus on the Nobel Laureate for Literature

Currently the Swedish Academy only has ten members actively serving, and without the necessary twelve members, they would be unable to elect and induct new members, and by extension no laureate would be able to be named either. All of this means is it is appears the Swedish Academy will be fighting an uphill battle, one in which they are more than likely going to fail at climbing successfully; which means the future of the Swedish Academy and the Nobel Prize for Literature hangs in an uncertain limbo. It is safe to assume Lars Heikensten and the Nobel Foundation have since washed their hands of the Swedish Academy, and has left them to their own devices. It would not be unfair to assume either that the Swedish Academy, through its stony silence, is unsure of how to move past the scandal and regain its former glory. Personally, I have no issue stating that the Swedish Academy’s current petulant behaviour is exaggerated and pantomime. Their inability to accept help as its being offered has cut their proverbial nose off despite their face. Their egos have gotten in their way to see the damage they have done to the award, and their current behaviour tarnishes all future laureates and awards. How the Swedish Academy will move beyond this is up to them, but their current behaviour strikes me as they think they can continue on with the business as though nothing has changed; all the while the complete opposite is true: everything has changed, and they need to adjust to these new situation or risk being forgotten in its entirety.

In the event the Swedish Academy is unable to get its affairs in order, there appears to be increasing pressure put on the King of Sweden to dismiss all current siting members of the Swedish Academy, and wipe the slate clean, while appointing new members. The other possible remedy is the Nobel Foundation seeks another institution to award the Nobel Prize for Literature; but this too will be met with legal challenges by the ten remaining members of the Swedish Academy.

Moving away from the Swedish Academy’s current state of mutilation, Sara Danius recently opened up about her decision to leave the academy, and with no surprise she is bitterly resentful over the situation. She described her revulsion in reading the claims by the eighteen women, who have accused Jean-Claude Arnault of sexual assault and rape. She dismissed the claims of Horace Engdahl as being one of the worst Permanent Secretaries in the academy’s history, and remains baffled by his behaviour during the entire scandal, going so far as to state when Swedish Academy decided to employ the law firm to investigate the accusations and the academy’s connections, he was very supportive, but quickly changed his tune after the Christmas Break, and only a few months later, scandal erupted, and the Swedish Academy could only attempt to put out the flames, as they popped up. When asked about her resignation, Sara Danius did little hide her bitterness in which she called a: “horse trade,” between herself and the disgraced member: Katarina Frostenson, who has not yet formally resigned from the academy.

This is entirely unfortunate when reflected on from March until August. The Nobel Prize for Literature and the Swedish Academy, have been great assets and allies in expanding my literary palette; which makes the current behaviour exhibited by the remaining Swedish Academy disheartening, and also wondering how the Nobel Prize for Literature will be able to come through this scandal without being tarnished—but the truth is: it is already tarnished. Now it is up to the Swedish Academy to rectify the situation, which of course they have proven to be incapable of doing. My personal hope is that the his Majesty Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden, will dismiss the remaining members of the academy and appoint a new eighteen members, and save the Nobel Prize for Literature from further scandal, and sustain what integrity it has left.

Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader

Take Care

And As Always

Stay Well Read

M. Mary

For Further Reading Gentle Reader please see the following articles:

"Swedish Academy snubs call for new Nobel Prize committer,"

"Ousted Swedish Academy head gives her side of the story for the first time,"

Happy Birthday to Herta Müller

Imagination vs Authenticity

Hello Gentle Reader

The term Cultural Appropriation has been flying around the world in recent memory. The term is of course once again attributed to the political far-left—the same far-left who push for political correctness and censorship. Their next method of attack is the idea of: Cultural Appropriation, which is a term used to demonize artists, writers, musicians, and cultural figures, which employ different cultures or attributes from that of their own cultural background, upbringing, language, ethnicity, creed or ancestral heritage. The politically radical left believes and states that when a writer or musician or artist, or dancer, or other cultural figure uses other elements from another culture, they are knowingly entering a dominance hierarchy, against the minority culture, which belittles, humiliates and degrades their traditions, cultural tropes and practices. The politically radical left has deemed this: Cultural Appropriation; and use these terms to fight (not debate) and offensively ridicule (again not debate or discuss) artists, writers, dancers, musicians and other cultural figures; who now feel they are limited in their themes and topics they can write about, because they are afraid they will be accused of cultural appropriation. This is essentially the promotion and induction of censorship.

In today’s world imagination is falling to the wayside in favour of authenticity. Back in the day a good story was appreciated, because it entertained, was emotionally riveting, eye opening, and explorative in its contents. Now days in order for a book to meet these same standards of the joy of reading; its writers must meet a certain set of checklists to ensure their work cannot be considered a product of cultural appropriation. For men this may look like the following:

(i)                 Is the main character of the same sex as yours? (Does the character choose to identify by said pronoun?) – If not the characters sex needs to be changed. [In fact do not use the term sex, us the term gender.]

(ii)                Is the setting realistic or fantastical?

(a)    If realistic: do you live there personally? If not: do you have experience living there? – If you’re setting is different than both where you live personally and having experience living in, please change them; as these descriptions and depictions maybe offensive to some readers.

(b)   If fantastical: does the imagined landscape borrow, steal, or procure unlawfully any cultural traditions, practices, rituals, religious iconography, mythological components, clothing, textile, or industry? If so, this needs to be changed, as you have just committed cultural appropriation. Does your setting take use cultural landscapes or architecture? If yes, you have committed cultural appropriation.

(iii)             Is the storyline and events within the story conclusive to your own history and a reflection of your cultural upbringing? If not you are required to change this as the events cannot be depicted with emotional authenticity.

(iv)             Are female characters presented in the text? F yes, you need to remove them as you are not able to write about a female as you have no authentic background, in which to depict their character.

The list could go on. Though it seems extreme—and it is—it still is considered an adequate description of what the hell is going on and what is being called cultural appropriation. Today’s world is not demanding imagination; it is not demanding flights of fancy and fantasy, its demanding for bland cement authenticity, by those who apparently lack imagination themselves.

In a recent article for The Guardian, Morgan Jones asks the question of how free should, a writer be when it comes to imagining and depicting a life, which is completely radical and different from the writers own. In it, Morgan Jones, defends his recent novel: “The Good Sister,” which is about a Egyptian teenage girl signing up to join ISIS—the English author finds himself pondering if he will face some ethical tribunal, with regards to his depiction of a imagined individual, who is extremely different from him in both gender and cultural identity as well as experience. Mr. Jones predicts he will face numerous inquiries and questions with regards to his subject matter, character, and theme from readers, credits, and of course the politically motivated far left. In his article, Morgan Jones provides an understanding to both sides, but obviously will move way from cultural appropriation, which he views (though not literally stated) as a bit of moral ineptitude with a high dosage of impertinence. He reminds all readers, that all writers have sought inspiration and stories far beyond their own limited experiences in order to gain inspiration from the experiences and stories of others. But writers (or artists and other compatriots) are not there to use this new found inspiration, and discovered experiences to promote colonialism or manipulate a minority’s culture to further their own gain, be it financial or political; the goal is to tell great stories and to entertain. Without that ability to ‘steal,’ experiences, memories, and even cultural identities, writers and other artistic professions, will become homogeneous and uninspired.

At a speech at the Brisbane Writers Festival, Lionel Shiver took the opportunity to discuss the claims and crimes of cultural appropriation. It should be noted, Shiver, has been accused by some politically charged critics and readers, for being a white privileged author who has utilized and exploited other cultures (specifically African-American and Latino). Shiver, took the opportunity to shoot back. She claims that it’s a writer’s job to try on others hats and slip into their shoes, and build empathetic and culturally assured bridges. One noted audience member, social activist Yassmin Abdel-Magied, took issue with the direction of the speech and opted to leave the speech, and pen a counter article, where she accused Lion Shiver of justifying cultural appropriation practices under the guise of fiction. Shiver, however, has not backed down, and will not back down, and that should be applauded. Her fight is against the blatant call for authors to be self-censoring, is unyielding, undying, and completely appropriate.

In another piece with The Guardian, the newspaper interviewed several writers about cultural appropriation and their thoughts on the matter. Hari Kunzru stated for the series that if writers are unable to look beyond their own culture, gender and identity, fiction would be impossible. Kamila Shamsie, deplores the idea that writers are confined to the idea that they are only able to write fiction based on their own experiences. She uses Peter Hobb’s novel “In the Orchard, the Swallows,” as her basis of how writers looking beyond and outside of themselves, as a great potential for them to seek new narratives, new voices, and new characters, while learning and growing as both a writer and a human being. She does not believe people or writers should not be limited in their imagination, based on the ideals of political correctness; but does believe when exploring new cultural frontiers one should do their research and become in essence an anthropologist to understand all facets of the culture and traditions one is writing about. Al Kennedy points out the beauty of fiction when faced with accusations of cultural appropriation; that fiction does not steal it creates. Fiction seeks the consent of both writer and reader, to become someone else. Someone of a different gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity, cultural heritage, or nation; it’s the ability to become and empathize and in a sense learn more about something that you may not have given a second thought to. Maggie Gee, offers perhaps the best advice on the debate, and encourages writers to shrug off such criticism; but does note it should be taken slightly seriously. The beauty of the entire world of being a writer is the ability to explore and to discover, and in return publish and display their version of reality to the public.   

The debate and argument of cultural appropriation today is as about has become old and absurd. Its asinine to think people will take such issue with matters of place, culture, and identity in today’s world. It is frightening to think that groups of people (be it minority or majority) believe they have the right to decide and lay claim and property on cultural items such as novels and films, while disregarding other work as mere cultural appropriation, because they find the depiction—or worst—the thought that the book or film has been envisioned by someone outside of that cultural hemisphere or environment. The idea that authenticity outweighs imagination is ludicrous. I certainly am not interested in reading carbon copy novels by writers, detailing their lives and their experiences, where the character is a mere clone of themselves, because they are now being forced to respect the cultural boundaries of others, because these others resent the idea of appreciation and instead call it appropriation. It’s disgusting. The world is a bright, beautiful and big place, filled with so many untold stories and unique lives; they should be explored, they should be discovered, and they should be documented; and no it’s not cultural appropriation its appreciation. The goal should always be to show that the human race despite border, ethnicity, cultural environment, landscape, or religious practices or history, is a rich spectrum of texture and experiences that should be displayed. Fiction and artistic medium, has the ability to remove these borders and boundaries, and allow the world to gain appreciation and empathy for one another. At this point in human history, it’s about time people began to understand that it’s the human race which transcends these petty squabbles. This idea of cultural appropriation and political correctness, are blatant attempts at forcing writers, artists, musicians, dancers, and other cultural figures to censor themselves, because a very small group of people who have very large lungs will cry foul. I am sorry: being offended is not the same as being moral or righteous; its repugnant, and frankly the equivalent of being morally impotent.

Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader

Take Care

And As Always

Stay Well Read

M. Mary

For Further Reading Gentle Reader, Please See the Following Articles from The Guardian, mentioned in the above blog post: 

Morgan Jones: "How free should novelists be to imagine radically different lives?"

Lionel Shiver: "We need to talk about cultural appropriation,"

"Whose Life is It Anyway,"

V.S. Naipaul, Dies Aged 85

Hello Gentle Reader

By contemporary memories standards there has been no writer currently writing who has done as much for post-colonial literature, as well as literature of South American (and the Caribbean), Indian literature, as well as English literature, then V.S. Naipaul. On the same hand, there has not been a writer as prickly, contemptuous, vitriolic, and controversial as V.S. Naipaul. There has also never been a writer (by contemporary standards) who has been blessed with being both controversially infuriating and critically acclaimed and applauded, as V.S. Naipaul. Throughout his long and illustrious career, the author was both hailed and deplored; yet his talents could never be dismissed. The same, however, can not necessarily be said about his character.

V.S. Naipaul began his literary career with comedic novels, but over time his gaze grew more cynical, more social, and steely. He displayed with unflinching and brutal honesty the terrors and horrors of colonialism, and the following panic and dread of post-colonialism. All the while the author explored ideas of place and its correlation to identity, themes which preoccupied throughout his long career. His travelogues, essays, and novels have depicted with abrupt honesty the terrors of the developing world; infuriated the people who reside within their nations, who accused him of casting a contemptuous eye on their struggles for development and modernity; while others appreciated the abrupt, forthright and acerbic commentary he had employed when discussing these otherwise ‘sensitive,’ topics. Despite this he would go on win to numerous accolades in his life time and career, including but not limited to: The Booker Prize and the Nobel Prize for Literature; as well as a knighthood.

Throughout his life though, Naipaul, inspired numerous feuds with many high profile associates and fellow writers which included but not limited to: Derek Walcott, Salman Rushdie, and his former student (though they did make peace in the end) Paul Theroux. He famously stated he could within a paragraph or two whether or not a piece of writing was done by a woman or not (which outraged many, and earned him the title: misogynist). He declared the rampant rise of Islam and Islamic law (sharia law) to that of colonialism. Yet, throughout it all, the authors work could not be ignored, and its startling and often disturbing portrait won him acclaim worldwide. He was a finicky national treasure, and many nations claimed them as his own. Yet the author, a literary chameleon and fussy individual refuted all claims of assertions of property or belonging.

Now, tributes, obituaries, articles, and interviews are written and resurface, commemorating and remembering the late Trinidad-Indian English language author, who chronicled the last half of the twentieth century both with comedy, but also uncomfortable irony; who brutally and unapologetically described and defined the often squandered world of colonialism and post-colonialism. Yet, these accomplishments, literary and personal cannot be overlooked or ignored, despite their otherwise uncomfortable content. V.S. Naipaul was certainly a writer of the times, and a chronicler of the age.

Rest in Peace, V.S. Naipaul.

Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader

Take Care

And As Always

Stay Well Read

M. Mary

I am the Brother of XX

Hello Gentle Reader

When some people discuss the act of writing and its literary endeavors, they at times make the comparison of a writer being the closest mortal being to god. Or the profession being the closest occupation to that of a divine deity. Who can blame them for their opinion though? With a stroke of their pen or a few taps of some keys; a writer can create and devastate. They haphazardly construct worlds without a second thought. They give birth to characters without consequence. Both character and world are treated with mere playful regard. When they have served their purpose or have reached their amusing capacity, they are left to drift and spin into the blind eternities of nothing; or merely killed off, where they are denied both happiness and love; their story unfinished and lacking resolution. If writers are like god(s), then surely they are the most celestial capricious characters, convicted of their own narcissism and self-importance, which is more often than not, denied in their realistic lives and world. This lack of importance or unjust disregard to their talents and character ensures they resign themselves to their worlds embraced in scaffolding, and crafted with bubble fragility. There they arbitrarily deposit their unsuspecting victims, their imagined characters; who at one moment were drafted and molded with care and concern, and the next tiresome and tedious and discarded with irritation and resentment. Those abandoned characters find themselves lost and forgotten in a landscape unfinished. The unseen construction workers are busy laying bricks, paving roads, installing windows, and setting up street lights. When they run out of materials and there is nothing on order, they pick up chalk and scribble the necessary implants for urban living on the half-finished landscape. For the characters lack the industrious purpose allocated to the construction crew, they must find a way to fit into their new landscape. Their fate had not been developed. They act the best they can in a logical order, but the landscape is inconsistent in varying stages of completion. A house may have walls and a roof; but it has neither furniture nor appliances. They sleep on dirt floors, and build fires in random rooms. It is here they must scrap some existence and some purpose, which has now only dwindled down to survival, as they have been abandoned to a half-finished world, which will slowly decay and decline, into a further state of refuse, at which point it will drift further and further away from acknowledgement and thought, until in the outer edges of amnesiac awareness, it will implode. The final end will be subtle and quiet, without bang or boom. All that will remain will be dust and a few bit of ruins littered about. Someday these little remnants will be trawled and brought back from the wastes of the afterthought and be repurposed in creating a new world, until the writer turned Prometheus, discards this world with monotonous boredom. There the unfinished heaven will drift further and further away until it too implodes and its ruined afterimage risks being lost to oblivion.

In the case of Fleury Jaeggy, she does not absent mindedly forget about her envisioned worlds. They do not generate long enough to become bored or tiresome. Right out of the gate, she immediately shatters and smashes her newly formed creations. From there, she extracts splinters, shards, and fragments, and rearranges these glistening obsidian and sapphire gems, into a twisted, complex and gothic mosaic, depicting her unique worlds in all their twisted and tortured glory. The world of Fleur Jaeggy is populated by solitary landscapes: isolated boarding schools, remnants of mansions smoldering at dusk, squandered apartment complexes, concrete low-income housing facilities, or homes for pensioners and the geriatrics (or for those who are merely waiting).  These brutalist and gothic settings are populated by the disenfranchised, forgotten, marginalized, and deranged. When charity or goodwill or even human decency is offered or displayed, the kindness is returned with malice, discontent, and extreme forms of violence, which includes but is not limited to: murder and arson.

The melodramatic histrionics of her subjects and themes would easily snare and drowned a lesser writer. Yet, Fleur Jaeggy undermines these pitfalls through her style. Where other writers would pick up pen and write long convoluted sentences, in memory of an author of the Victorian era, complete with tracery and the dramatic martyrdom of madness, seeking redemption and reveal; Jaeggy’s prose and style is clipped and terse. They are etched with steel and iron, deprived of any display of emotion. Yet beneath the cool metallic surface, lies a brewing molten undercurrent of violence, resentment, and madness. Her characters are always on the edge of eruption; even if no one is around to witness their final act of life. For her characters exist in the lonely snow peaked steep mountains; or a mansion precariously built on a cliff, hanging above the void; or the emotionally stunted world of boarding schools, where life’s rigid itinerary leaves no room for any grand displays of discontent or distress. The expectation is everything is left to simmer under the surface. This tension is slowly revealed through her lyrical prose, which only offers an inclination or a brief glimpse into the hellfire lurking beneath the cold façade of her characters, who seek refuge in their hermitages or willfully imprison themselves in solitary confinement. This immediate distrust towards life makes itself apparent quickly and early on. In the titular story (“I am the Brother of XX,”) the narrator, a young boy at the time, answers his grandmothers prodding question of what he would like to do when he grows up:

“’[ . . . ] I want to die. I want to die when I grow up. I want to die soon.”

In another story a lonely old woman who has suffered the claustrophobic confines of her solitude, which has gifted her with a greater perspective and charitable heart, decides to take in an orphan girl. After a while she bequeaths her estate and fortune to her newly acquired humanistic project. The orphan, however, has other desires and plans. She has neither care nor desire for money, and kills her benefactor and burns the mansion down. This transgression is done simply for the enjoyment of the destruction itself, which is described in Fleur Jaeggy’s cool and dispassionate prose, deprived of histrionics or other exaggerated forms of sentimentality, or pantomime carnivalesque colours.

Not all of the stories collected in “I am the Brother of XX,” are filled with extreme and sudden acts of violence and destruction. There is, however, a continual atmosphere of dread and simmering rage which moves throughout the collection. It’s just not always unleashed or released upon the world, or the unsuspecting victims and other collateral damage; which comes in complete contrast to her early short story collection: “Last Vanities,” where violence quickly explodes forth, with neither justice nor redemption in sight. There is a uncertain relationship directed towards life. The characters are not entirely sure what life and living entails. Though not as severe as the young boy in the titular story, who stated he only wishes to die when he grows up; they have an uneasy relationship with the act of living. A realization which is best explained by the nymphs who come down from their painting in order to get a taste of life only to question their decision:

“[ .  . . ] having descended to earth, they realized they were ill-disposed to living.”

Other stories—at times the most telegraphic in the collection—depict memories and reminisces of friends, as well as imagined scenes of their lives. These stories have a different mood from the others. Yet they too avoid the pitfalls of nostalgia; and retain the restrained austere steel like severity found in her fictional narratives. There is, however, a breath of fresh air presented in these stories, as she remembers her dear friend Ingeborg Bachmann, who is described as having needed: “little encouragement not to speak.” The late Italian author and folklorist, Italo Calvino, also makes an appearance; though he appears less quirky as one would care to envision him; but almost oppressively eccentric, his presence awkward and foreign. Another takes stock of Joseph Brodsky (though he is never named) on a silent solitary winter night in New York, where the famous poet reflects on his forlorn and resentful homeland, which had seen his removal. Upon them are other stories which read like short lyrical essays offering thoughts on life, with a tepid caution, always on the verge of distrust.  Once again they follow in the same vain as the boy from the titular story when he states:

“The importance of succeeding in life is a noose. It’s nothing but a noose.”

Emily Dickinson once wrote: “To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.” Fleur Jaeggy and her characters would agree; life is startlingly, but to live is not an immediate action; but rather than an unwelcome and even frightening curse, which they seek to continually remove themselves from; or seek escape and refuge from. Her characters are not entirely sure what it means to live, and what life entails, and they have no desire to explore the idea any further. Life is an iniquitous affair, as well as ubiquitous in its oppression.

The stories in “I am the Brother of XX,” proudly display the jagged and inescapable crystalline prose of Fleur Jaeggy, but one should be hesitant in calling all the stories collected as traditional stories. Some are stories, in the lose confines of conventional narrative; while others are essayistic in form and delivery. This collection is not as concrete as her earlier collection “Last Vanities,” whereupon madness and murder exist under a frail and tense surface, which is wrapped in a cellophane atmosphere of malice. These stories varying in pitch and rhythm and are often disconnected from each other in presentation, but not in preoccupation. The austere and severe authors hand can always be found on the page; where she guides with detached apathy their course and route, whereby the characters are led to their eventual shipwrecks. What is appealing about Fleur Jaeggy though, is her complete objection to all matters considered literary conventional or familiar. She eschews these otherwise standard obligations for a form and style all her own. She inhabits her corner with assured confidence, while remaining impassive and opaque about recognition and praise. Her perspective on the world and its human inhabitants is one with measured ironic amusement, where she has no issue in exploring and exposing the dangers of life, and the ideas of salvation. When a woman steals a wooden cross from a corpse to find comfort; the object of holy relief, tortures her to madness. Another woman—a mother of the narrator—is photographed when she meets the pope, but rather than finding hope or reprieve from existence, she looks on with hopelessness and resignation. In this Fleur Jaeggy states the most apparent reality of what it means to live, which is merely the long process of rotting.

It should be noted; one should not read Fleur Jaeggy for her enjoyment of life, but rather for her crystalline prose, her lyrical language and for her unique perspective as it defies literary conventions, theories and schools. If one is seeking a writer who exists on her own terms, and writes on her own terms, it’s Fleur Jaeggy. Just be hestitant in seeking some moral uplifting message in the vein of a self-help book; or other inspirational driven book, about laughing, loving, praying, and living.

Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader

Take Care

And As Always

Stay Well Read

M. Mary