Image: Frederic Amat, "Las Mil y una Noches nº30" (detail) © 2013 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York / VEGAP, Madrid
Guest Editors Javier Aparicio, Aurelio Major, Mercedes Monmany,
This month we present poetry and prose by twelve Spanish masters whose dazzling work has been unavailable to the English-language world. Exploring scenes ranging from the devastating Madrid subway bombing to the idyllic coastline of Greece, in rhapsodic poetry and anguished prose, these writers provide new insight into Spanish literature today. Read Fernando Aramburu, Cristina Fernández Cubas, Miquel de Palol, Ignacio Martínez de Pisón, Antonio Gamoneda, Pere Gimferrer, Berta Vias Mahou, César Antonio Molina, Juan Antonio Masoliver Ródenas, Olvido Garcia Valdés, Pedro Zarraluki, and Juan Eduardo Zúñiga, and discover the breadth and depth of contemporary Spanish writing. This issue is part of the SPAIN arts & culture program and was made possible thanks to a charitable contribution from the Spain-USA Foundation. We thank the Foundation for its generous support, and our guest editors, Javier Aparicio, Aurelio Major, and Mercedes Monmany, for their excellent work in selecting the authors and pieces presented here.
Elsewhere, we present writing from Syria, as Zakariya Tamer tells tales of djinns and talking walls, Abdelkader al-Hosni reflects on friendship, Golan Haji considers magic and loss, and Lukman Derky mourns a history of war.
The explosion had sent me flying through the air.
We are zigzagging on the road / like the plot unravels in Buñuel
The Baghdad Clock
"It's the spirits, girl, it's the spirits."
It’s going to dawn over the prisons and tombs.
The Last Day on Earth
The murmuring on the far side of the barrio was neverending as the heavy machinery demolished homes.
The dog, as if she knew they were talking about her, opened her eyes and looked at her owner, who choked back a sob.
They Destroyed Our Radios and Televisions
We could only / love dead women.
The Devil Lives in Lisbon
I don’t know where Mother would go off to. I’m not sure.
Don’t Do It
“Now let’s get down to us,” she said, lowering her voice to a purr.
What Do You Expect, Heart?
Only something that continues to hurt stays in the memory.
Under the Sign of Anaximander
He stabbed him forty-eight times, all over his body, methodical, thorough, conscientious.
I cross bridges just as I leave dreams in hotels.
Everything went well until we got to Corfu.
Reviewed by Anderson Tepper
Reviewed by Elisa Wouk Almino
Reviewed by Mythili G. Rao