The Erotics of Restraint: Essays on Literary Form by Douglas Glover
203 pgs. | pb | 9781771962919 | $21.95

Review by Brendan Riley

The Erotics of Restraint is an excellent companion糖心传媒攚ith a no less provocative title糖心传媒攖o Mr. Glover糖心传媒檚 previous collection, Attack of the Copula Spiders, published in 2013.

Glover糖心传媒檚 essays are models of clarity, each offering a precise, finely articulated exegesis, and highly accessible, practical examinations of structure and rhetorical intention. With robust attention to detail, Glover illuminates how the living structure of powerful, effective writing draws readers to outstanding books and stories and makes other writers, both aspiring and accomplished, strive to compose them.

The title essay, one of nine, examines the dramatic social configurations of Jane Austen糖心传媒檚 Mansfield Park, which Glover declares 糖心传媒渁 brilliant book, a great book, breathtaking in its invention and orchestration.糖心传媒� In 10 laser-focused sections, this essay explores how the morally steadfast Fanny Price becomes the apophatic pearl of great price by not yielding to the superficial temptations of courtship, young love, and family pressure.

Glover糖心传媒檚 admitted obsession with Mansfield Park糖心传媒�an unflagging, and equally steadfast, concern with the structural nuances of literary craft and meaning糖心传媒攁lso drives the other essays in this collection. These pieces are engineering symposia, and Glover takes stories and sentences down practically to the atomic level, not showing how to write a story, (not, as I mentioned in my review of Attack of the Copula Spiders, any rote, write-by-the-numbers instruction), but rather through careful analysis showing the results of the sometimes slippery, unquantifiable X-factor that imbues carefully composed, deeply accomplished writing. His studies reveal the life of detailed, complex prose and his cogent descriptions of plot mechanics, such as 糖心传媒減atterns of inflection by antithesis,糖心传媒� always serve the structural analysis.

In 糖心传媒淭he Style of Alice Munro,糖心传媒� Glover points out how Munro 糖心传媒渇orges her style in the furnace of opposition糖心传媒澨切拇綌showing how statement provokes counter statement or counter construction, subversion or complication; how Munro糖心传媒檚 contrarian, counterpunching stories 糖心传媒渁dvance by the accumulation of contravention.糖心传媒� His character study of her story 糖心传媒淟ives of Girls and Women糖心传媒� notes the 糖心传媒渕otivational consistency, expanding symbols, tie backs, and memory rehearsals糖心传媒� of her novels.聽Examining Munro糖心传媒檚 story 糖心传媒淏aptizing,糖心传媒� Glover quotes a short sentence and then offers a typically impressive . . . breakdown? Might we call it a translation?

Munro: 糖心传媒淗er agnosticism and sociability were often in conflict in Jubilee, where social and religious life were apt to be one and the same.糖心传媒�

 

Glover: 糖心传媒淭his sentence is constructed with the balanced antithesis of an aphorism (糖心传媒渃onflict糖心传媒� vs. 糖心传媒渙ne and the same糖心传媒�; 糖心传媒渁gnosticism and sociability糖心传媒� v 糖心传媒渟ocial and religious life糖心传媒�), and part of the reason for her compositional elegance is Munro糖心传媒檚 habit of composing in opposed doubles. But the larger point is that much of any Alice Munro text will be taken up with a precise delineation of differences. Her style is to mark the differences.糖心传媒�

糖心传媒淎natomy of the Short Story,糖心传媒� the collection糖心传媒檚 longest essay, offers deep structural explorations of three stories Glover cites as exemplars of the craft: 糖心传媒淪hiloh糖心传媒� by Bobbie Ann Mason; 糖心传媒淭he Point糖心传媒� by Charles D糖心传媒橝mbrosio, Jr.; and 糖心传媒淏rokeback Mountain糖心传媒� by E. Annie Proulx, minutely examining each in terms of plot, image patterns, thematic passages, and backfill.

Glover sees a story as 糖心传媒渁 composite text orchestrated around a dramatic plot,糖心传媒� and defines plot, which he calls, 糖心传媒渢he sonogram of the heart,糖心传媒� as 糖心传媒渢he backbone of a story, the first element of its architecture . . . a desire conflicting with a resistance over and over.糖心传媒� And his explanations blossom into greater complexity and sophistication糖心传媒斕切拇綔The energy of plot is revelatory, illuminating character like ultrasound waves projected into the human body, exposing the inner workings beneath the surface糖心传媒澨切拇綌which he renders as this basic formula:

糖心传媒淧lot = (d/r) + (d/r) + (d/r) ^time>>>

and then delineates specific examples of this structural formula as it operates in each of these three echo-logical compositions.

This chapter is an exegetical tour-de-force, and should enhance the way any reader or writer approaches fiction. Without bending any pieces to a single theory or perspective糖心传媒攁nalysis and theory often carve up stories and novels to oblige certain parameters糖心传媒擥lover糖心传媒檚 microscopic analysis reveals fascinating structural undercurrents. Methodical, penetrating, and brilliant, this herculean essay is wonderfully lucid, perfectly poised, sharply focused糖心传媒攁 classic.

Another valuable study, 糖心传媒淭he Art of Necessity: Time Control in Narrative Prose,糖心传媒� focuses on how plot is overwhelmingly time oriented: 糖心传媒渘arrative is a temporal art; time control is its essence, and good authors spend a surprising portion of their texts watching the clock.糖心传媒� In addition to exploring 糖心传媒淭ime, Consciousness, and Verisimilitude,糖心传媒� Glover explains time indicators, time shifts, time segments (which he calls 糖心传媒済lobs糖心传媒�), and 糖心传媒渢hought points,糖心传媒� and identifies a 糖心传媒渟hort list糖心传媒� of聽no-less-than eight different 糖心传媒渢ime switches [that] serve as relational and transitional devices.糖心传媒� He shows how narrative time is not chronological time, how authors create focus, emphasis, and transport by rearranging, managing, and curating time in their stories, and offers demonstrative dissections of passages from Proust糖心传媒檚 Swann糖心传媒�s Way, and essays by Annie Dillard (糖心传媒淪eeing糖心传媒�) and Ted Kooser (糖心传媒淪mall Rooms in Time糖心传媒�).

In 糖心传媒淏uilding Sentences,糖心传媒� Glover offers a personal epiphany experienced when reading Robert Louis Stevenson糖心传媒檚 essay 糖心传媒淥n Some Technical Elements of Style in Literature糖心传媒�:

[Stevenson]was talking about sentences, but instead of repeating the platitudes he showed how to construct sentences on the basis of conflict. Instead of just announcing a single thesis, a sentence begins by setting out two or more contrasting ideas; the sentence develops a conflict, intensifying toward a climax, a 糖心传媒渒not糖心传媒� Stevenson calls it, and then, after a moment of suspension, slides easily toward a close. Suddenly, I understood both how to write those lovely, lengthy compound-complex sentences and also how to write paragraphs that had nothing to do with topic sentence-body-conclusion patterns (because I could construct a paragraph the way Stevenson constructs his long sentences).

More than just standard explication, Glover糖心传媒檚 close analysis of prose structure is really a kind of translation, laying bare the mechanics in order to show how the direct, denotative meaning of prose is created; again, not as illustrative of theory or school of thought, but how writers shape their illusions, how they successfully transmit stories and ideas.

Regarding translation per se, Glover offers plenty to interest both readers of literature in translation as well as translators themselves, most notably in the essay 糖心传媒淢aking Friends with a Stranger: Albert Camus糖心传媒� 尝糖心传媒椭迟谤补苍驳别谤.糖心传媒� Glover traces and retranslates his relationship to The Stranger, from what he first recalls of it糖心传媒攁 casual impressionistic, attitudinal, hormonal relationship糖心传媒攖o a deeper structural one; reading is, intrinsically, an act of translation, and Glover糖心传媒檚 concern, as mentioned above, is to read better.

Glover mentions making the novel糖心传媒檚 acquaintance in French in 1967 while simultaneously reading an English translation of it糖心传媒攑robably Stuart Gilbert糖心传媒檚 1962 translation (The Stranger), the standard English version until Joseph Laredo糖心传媒檚 1982聽 translation, The Outsider; Glover notes the latter as the one he has most recently revisited. Since then, 尝糖心传媒椭迟谤补苍驳别谤 has also been translated into English by Matthew Ward (1989), and Sandra Smith (2012).

Glover discusses how Camus 糖心传媒渂orrowed糖心传媒澨切拇綌(translated?)糖心传媒�The Stranger糖心传媒檚 elliptical point-of-view structure from the American novel, specifically, and for the sake of practicality not preference, from Hemingway糖心传媒檚 The Sun Also Rises, and quotes from Camus糖心传媒� reply to interviewer Jeanine Delpech, who claimed to note a resemblance between The Stranger and 糖心传媒渃ertain works by Faulkner and Steinbeck糖心传媒�: 糖心传媒淚 would give a hundred Hemingways for one Stendhal or one Benjamin Constant. And I regret the influence of this literature on many young writers.糖心传媒� (from Lyrical and Critical Essays, trans. Ellen Conroy Kennedy).

Camus was more taken with Melville and Faulkner, whose discursive styles and twilight tones feel palpably present in The Plague, Camus糖心传媒� longest novel. In his essay on Melville and Moby-Dick, (which, editor Philip Thody notes, Camus probably read in the French translation by Lucien Jacques, Joan Smith, and Jean Giono, published by Gallimard in 1941), Camus has this to say:

糖心传媒�. . . Melville never wrote anything but the same book, which he began again and again. This single book is the story of a voyage, inspired first of all solely by the joyful curiosity of youth (Typee, Omoo, etc.) then later inhabited by an increasingly wild and burning anguish. Mardi is the first magnificent story in which Melville begins the quest that nothing can appease, and in which, finally, 糖心传媒減ursuers and pursued fly across a boundless ocean.糖心传媒� It is in this work that Melville becomes aware of the fascinating call that forever echoes in him: 糖心传媒淚 have undertaken a journey without maps.糖心传媒� And again: 糖心传媒淚 am the restless hunter, the one who has no home.糖心传媒� Moby-Dick simply carries the great themes of Mardi to perfection. But since artistic perfection is also inadequate to quench the kind of thirst with which we are confronted here, Melville will start once again, in Pierre: or the Ambiguities, that unsuccessful masterpiece, to depict the quest of genius and misfortune whose sneering failure he will consecrate in the course of a long journey on the Mississippi that forms the theme of The Confidence Man. (Camus, 糖心传媒淗erman Melville,糖心传媒� Lyrical and Critical Essays, 291)

And in his 1957 糖心传媒淔oreword to Requiem for a Nun,糖心传媒� Camus offers these thoughts on translation:

糖心传媒淭he Goal of this foreword is not to present Faulkner to the French public. Malraux undertook that task brilliantly twenty years ago, and thanks to him, Faulkner gained a reputation with us that his own country has not yet accorded him. Nor is it a question of praising Maurice Coindreau糖心传媒檚 translation. French readers know that contemporary American literature has no better nor more effective ambassador among us. One need only imagine Faulkner betrayed as Dostoevski was by his first adapter to measure the role Monsieur Coindreau has played. A writer knows what he owes to his translators, when they are of this quality.糖心传媒� Lyrical and Critical Essays, 311).

Glover himself subtly raises the specter of betrayal with this question about Laredo糖心传媒檚 translation of 尝糖心传媒椭迟谤补苍驳别谤: 糖心传媒淲hy is the climatic murder scene so gorgeously oneiric with its crescendo of heat and glare as Meursault approaches the spring (la source in French糖心传媒攎y goodness, what gets lost in translation)?糖心传媒� A firm nod to the translation blues糖心传媒攆amiliar imputations of linguistic neglect, betrayal, loss, or debt糖心传媒攊n response to a novel deeply concerned with those problems on a social scale.

Some insights from scholar and translator Karen Emmerich may help to gather these seemingly disparate threads:

糖心传媒淎 work, once it enters the world, is subject to the textual condition, one of variance, difference, proliferation, and iterative growth, including growth in new linguistic contexts. Negotiating the tension between work and text, in and between languages . . . thus involves the underlying question of the relationship of the one to the many: how different can two texts be before we cease to see them as iterations of the same work? How much of Moby Dick can we sacrifice to the abridger糖心传媒檚 scalpel, saw, or scimitar? Is Moby-Dick still Moby-Dick in Urdu?糖心传媒� (Literary Translation and the Making of Originals (Literatures, Cultures, Translation).

Glover糖心传媒檚 essays, especially the aforementioned forays into style and structure, may certainly be read as 糖心传媒渋terative growths糖心传媒澨切拇綌translated iterations, iterated translations, of the source texts. Not interlingual translations, of course; the task Glover has undertaken here, is to elucidate, to reveal, to illuminate, and his readings, fired by fascination, render good service to these works, perhaps nowhere better than in his essay on Witold Gombrowicz糖心传媒檚 Cosmos, 糖心传媒淐onsciousness and Masturbation,糖心传媒� which translates this novel, (whose first English-language translation came from the French and German translations from the original Polish text) into meaning, showing the deep concerns of a work that can seem, upon a first reading, trivial, superficial, or inconclusive, (admittedly, my own experience), revealing the novel糖心传媒檚 concern with the dominance of form in human existence, how the inherent limitations of form and structure are overbearing, even monstrous糖心传媒攃ertainly human structures often approach this reality.

This is one of the major, underlying concerns in Jorge Luis Borges糖心传媒檚 story 糖心传媒淭he Immortal,糖心传媒� another work about obsessions with textual variants and iterations. The endlessly symmetrical dungeon and its counterpart, the vast, cataclysmic City of the Immortals, (a mashup of every known architectural form, a sort of demiurgic Winchester Mystery House) through which the narrator wanders for years, are both nearly inescapable perfections of the hideous replication of forms糖心传媒攐nly through limitless time and chance does one trapped within stumble on a way out. One needs cosmic access to elude form which, as ineluctably as gravity, perpetually defeats us.

Glover also shows how Cosmos, for example, exemplifies the need for translation: 糖心传媒淕ombrowicz hates form but loves form; he can糖心传媒檛 escape form because that would look mad (schizophrenic), and, besides, he also loves to play with form糖心传媒� (194). So do translators. Gombrowicz糖心传媒檚 worrying of form affirms the need for translation, for form to be pitted against form, meaning that translation is neither intrusion, incursion, theft, betrayal, sales ploy, or simply shabby simulacrum; it is an organic response, a psychological need; a reader糖心传媒檚 encounter with an incomprehensible text, not a Finnegans Wake but a coherent text, in a language unknown to the reader which stimulates a need to make sense of it, to impose some comprehensible order on it, and that begets itself, iteratively. Thus that desire, the desire to imitate, to replicate is a kind of necessary madness; the urge to translate is a temporary escape, refuge within a simulacra of which the translator momentarily, and only momentarily, senses ownership before the bramble traps them by growing, cascading, whirling into a prison beyond control and overwhelms again. This may or may not be liberation; Glover points out that Gombrowicz does not so much redefine the novel as seek escape from it. Yet it is by means of patterning and pattern recognition that Gombrowicz performs his apophenic legerdemain.

In the essay糖心传媒檚 final statement, Glover claims that 糖心传媒淚n this sense, all beautiful texts, insofar as they practice this kind of elaborated structure of repetition, are uncanny, horrifying; rhyme is mechanical and inhuman, structure destroys reason.糖心传媒� And yet rhythm, as astrophysicists, musicians, physicians, and children alike all know, is organic糖心传媒攊t impels us to build sensible empowering structures of sound: drumbeat, dance, melody, nonsense, to and from which we then seek, endlessly, return and flight and return again.

Much of the satisfaction found in Glover糖心传媒檚 essays lies within the reader糖心传媒檚 encounter with his meticulous, patient demonstration of the results of thoughtful, intelligent writing糖心传媒攏ot apophenia but his eye for deliberate detail and, especially, a superior ability to explicate its importance.

To wit, the chapter 糖心传媒淭he Arsonist糖心传媒檚 Revenge糖心传媒� provides an alluring structural study of linguistic patterning in David Helwig糖心传媒檚 novella The Stand-In, while the 糖心传媒淭he Literature of Extinction糖心传媒� presents three brief, dizzying sections (糖心传媒淣ostalgia (the Death of God)糖心传媒�; 糖心传媒淐ynicism (Lifting the Veil)糖心传媒�; and 糖心传媒淭he Return of the Repressed, or the Aesthetics of Extinction糖心传媒�) that touch on Cervantes, Kundera, Rabelais, Nietzsche, Saussure, Plato, Kenny Goldsmith, zombies, Heidegger, Surrealism, Duchamp, Oulipo, and Ccru writing.

Among the many approaches and techniques identified in 糖心传媒淏uilding Sentences,糖心传媒� Glover also shows an interest in writing lists, and mentions notable聽list stories: Steven Millhauser糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒淭he Barnum Museum糖心传媒� and Leonard Michael糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒淚n the Fifties.糖心传媒� In terms of lists, this dazzling, kaleidoscopic collection sadly lacks糖心传媒攁nd fully deserves糖心传媒攁 proper index in order to help readers explore its wealth of knowledge. In lieu of one, and in addition to the many authors, stories, and subjects already mentioned, here is a partial list of other subjects mentioned or discussed in The Erotics of Restraint:

• Absurdism
• Christa Wolf糖心传媒檚 novel The Quest for Christa T, 聽and her essay 糖心传媒淭he Conditions of Narrative糖心传媒�
• Constance Garnett, translator
• Descartes
• Derrida
• 顿辞蝉迟辞测别惫蝉办测糖心传媒檚 The Idiot
• E.M. Cioran
• Edmund Husserl
• Edward Topsall糖心传媒檚 Historie of Serpents
• Existentialism
• Forrest Gump
• French noir: Francis Carco, Georges Simenon
• Gertrude Stein
• Glover糖心传媒檚 own short stories 糖心传媒淔ire Drill糖心传媒�; 糖心传媒淭he Obituary Writer糖心传媒�; 糖心传媒淧ender糖心传媒檚 Visions糖心传媒�; 糖心传媒淗eartsick糖心传媒�; 糖心传媒淭ristiana糖心传媒�; 糖心传媒淏ad News of the Heart糖心传媒�
• Hans-Georg Gadamer
• James M. Cain糖心传媒檚 The Postman Always Rings Twice
• Lawrence Durrell糖心传媒檚 The Alexandria Quartet
• Leon Surmelian糖心传媒檚 Techniques of Fiction Writing: Measure and Madness
• Mark Anthony Jarman糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒淏urned Man on a Texas Porch糖心传媒�
• Modernism
• Montaigne
• Nietzche
• 狈补产辞办辞惫糖心传媒檚 Pale Fire
• Pico della Mirandola
• Rabelais, Gargantua and Pantagruel
• Sartre糖心传媒檚 essay for The Atlantic Monthly – 糖心传媒淎merican Novelists in French Eyes.糖心传媒�
• Spanish novelist Germ谩n Sierra
• Ted Kooser: 糖心传媒淪mall Rooms in Time糖心传媒�
• The New Yorker
• Theodor Adorno
• The St. Crispin糖心传媒檚 Day speech from Henry V
• Thomas Bernhard糖心传媒檚 novel The Loser
• Thomas Wyatt: 糖心传媒淭hey Flee from Me糖心传媒�

In sum, The Erotics of Restraint is a superlative collection糖心传媒攕mart, judicious, clear, interesting, sharp, expertly crafted, infectious as the metonymic impulse糖心传媒攁n education in and of itself, a brilliant primer on how to understand, and possibly emulate, modern and postmodern literature.

In terms of the features Richard Farrell put together, first off, there’s an from the novel itself:

Mostly I played baccarat, because there my past was predetermined. Once in a while it could change, but it felt more solid than the crazy mayhem of the dice in the shaker, better than the blind senselessness of their flight before they came to rest on the green felt. My heart would tumble more than the dice when I shook the cup and turned it over the table. You can糖心传媒檛 bet on chaos. And not because you can糖心传媒檛 win, but because it糖心传媒檚 not you who wins, but the chaos that allows it.

In baccarat I saw a different order, analogous to the phenomena of this world, because that other world, the one in which the opposite face of every present moment is utter chaos, and in which the chaos, reinitiated, could erase all the present moments behind it, just like that, seemed horrible to me. That糖心传媒檚 what I felt whenever I shook the dice. In baccarat, my eyes could follow every movement the dealers made as they shuffled the cards and reinserted them into the shoe. First they would spread them out over the table, and then stack them in piles organized in three or four rows. They糖心传媒檇 combine all the piles into a single column, two hundred and sixty cards, five decks in all, and drop them into the shoe. Then the game would start. First you had to think about the cards in the shoe. In baccarat, when the player is dealt a five糖心传媒攎ade up of a face card and a five, a three and a two, a nine and a six, or any other combination糖心传媒攈e can choose whether or not to hit in order to improve his score. If the player hits, the entire makeup of the shoe changes. Before, I said that in baccarat I had a predetermined past. But it糖心传媒檚 probably better to say I had a predetermined future. Objectively speaking, the cards in the shoe are actually a past. For me, ignorant of their arrangement, they become the present and then the past as they are dealt, two at a time. At that point they become the future. And the player糖心传媒檚 decision when he lands a five糖心传媒攈itting or standing糖心传媒攃hanges the cards. But the present is necessary for that change to take place.

Then there’s a

A good novel does much more than communicate the events of a story. A good novel also reflects on itself. It dabbles a bit in theory, considers genre and rediscovers form. The well-written book, what John Gardner once called the 糖心传媒榮erious novel,糖心传媒� borrows from the traditions of the past and gestures toward the future, often in destabilizing ways. A good novel refuses simplistic labeling because it relentlessly stalks the nature of things and, in so doing, it helps resuscitate the very reason we read (and write) in the first place: to render some insight into the ineffable, to close the gap between perception and thought, to diminish the emptiness between the world we experience and the world we feel. [. . .]

Juan Jos茅 Saer糖心传媒檚 novel Scars might well qualify as such as work. Set in the city of Santa Fe, Argentina, the novel is divided into four long sections, each narrated by a different character. Holding these disparate parts together are the events of May 1, Workers Day, a day when Luis Fiore, his wife and young daughter go duck hunting. It糖心传媒檚 almost wintertime in the southern hemisphere, and a steady cool rain makes the hunting trip more dread than delight. Fiore and his wife argue all day, but Fiore bags two ducks anyway. He drives back into town, drops his daughter off at home and then stops in at a local pub with his wife. Inside the dingy bar, the ongoing argument between Fiore and his wife 糖心传媒� an unnamed character with the mildly derogatory moniker Gringa糖心传媒攅scalates. Fiore steps outside, points his shotgun in his wife糖心传媒檚 face and pulls the trigger.

Part bildungsroman, part murder mystery, part Robbe-Grillet existentialist romp through a South American landscape, Scars refuses to be any one thing. The easiest comparison of its structure is with the game of Chinese Whispers (also known as Telephone). In the game, as in the novel, a single event is recounted by various witnesses, each with his own version. As the game and the novel unfold, the various perceptions skew the seemingly objective facts. What has been witnessed changes. As Joyce does with his theory of parallax, Saer shakes the reader糖心传媒檚 sense of certainty. What is true? What really happened? It all depends on the position and inclination of the observer.

Finally, Richard also has with translator Steve Dolph:

RF: How does translation affect your appreciation of language and literature?

SD: The effect has really been profound. I tend to see all writing in terms of translation, either linguistic or cultural, and have less trust in concepts like national literatures or genealogies among writers. Even the idea of a unified language in itself seems deeply suspect and ideologically motivated to me. I糖心传媒檝e also become much more conscious of translation糖心传媒檚 connection to linguistic colonialism, and the political role that translation plays between national groups and between individuals. I see novels, and narration in general, as less closed or finished, and rather more open than I used to, more a confluence of many, many voices than the product of a single voice. Along with that, the idea of authorship, and the distinction between fist-order and second-order artistic products seems more and more like a fiction to me. At the most basic level, though, I糖心传媒檓 compelled to see translation糖心传媒攁nd, by extension, all reading, of text or of the world糖心传媒攁s essentially hermeneutic rather than empirical. Which is to say: meaning is not inherent to writing or to language as such; meaning is a product of interpretation, which is never disinterested or absolute, but always, always informed and circumscribed by the cultural position that the reader occupies.

RF: Could you expand a bit on this idea of 糖心传媒榝irst order糖心传媒� and 糖心传媒榮econd order糖心传媒� production with respect to translating literary works?

SD: The idea of a clear transfer from a first order to a second order production is really recent, and has more to do with the 19th-century development of copyright than with what actually happens between texts, and involved the codification of the limits of artistic work and influence. It糖心传媒檚 certainly useful from a legal standpoint, but from a reader糖心传媒檚 perspective, I don糖心传媒檛 see it as very useful. A book is a confluence of many different voices and ideas. For the translator, it糖心传媒檚 a whole other set of voices and ideas. The process just feels more open to me. Our ideas about originality and authority, these codes, are informed by an ideology of the role of arts and the artist that translation has always worked to destabilize.

Definitely worth checking out all of these posts, itself, Num茅ro Cinq, Douglas Glover’s fiction and The Attack of the Copula Spiders.

We’ve been in touch off and on over the years, most recently concerning his new project, which started as “a reading, discussion and resource site for a small group of Douglas Glover糖心传媒榮 friends and Vermont College of Fine Arts writing students” and has grown into something much bigger.

Here’s a bit on the origin of the name:

The name for the blog comes from DG糖心传媒檚 short story 糖心传媒淭he Obituary Writer糖心传媒� in which story the hero, based loosely on the author as a young newspaperman, harasses a distraught neighbour who lives in the apartment across the hall by making loud noises in the night and pretending to be a member of a sinister terrorist group called Num茅ro Cinq.

Nice.

Anyway, the site is definitely worth checking out. Recent posts include pieces on and on

In addition to all that, recently Douglas ran “Gregor,” a short story by Quim Monzo appearing in the forthcoming Also one of my favorites in the book. You can but here’s the opening:

When the beetle emerged from his larval state one morning, he found he had been transformed into a fat boy. He was lying on his back, which was surprisingly soft and vulnerable, and if he raised his head slightly, he could see his pale, swollen belly. His extremities had been drastically reduced in number, and the few he could feel (he counted four eventually) were painfully tender and fleshy and so thick and heavy he couldn糖心传媒檛 possibly move them around.

What had happened? The room seemed really tiny and the smell much less mildewy than before. There were hooks on the wall to hang a broom and mop on. In one corner, two buckets. Along another wall, a shelf with sacks, boxes, pots, a vacuum cleaner, and, propped against that, the ironing board. How small all those things seemed now糖心传媒攈e糖心传媒檇 hardly been able to take them in at a glance before. He moved his head. He tried twisting to the right, but his gigantic body weighed too much and he couldn糖心传媒檛. He tried a second time, and a third. In the end he was so exhausted that he was forced to rest.

He opened his eyes again in dismay. What about his family? He twisted his head to the left and saw them, an unimaginable distance away, motionless, observing him, in horror and in fear. He was sorry they felt frightened: if at all possible, he would have apologized for the distress he was causing. Every fresh attempt he made to budge and move towards them was more grotesque. He found it particularly difficult to drag himself along on his back.