Presented here for the first time in English, the cult writer Charles Chahwan—"Lebanon's answer to Charles Bukowski"—tells a tale of rival militiamen euphoric with violence.   Under the gentle afternoon sunlight, Serge’s body appeared limp and more slouched than usual as he rested against the back seat of the shared taxi, a Morris Princess. He was the sole passenger in the service as it made its way down the coastal highway, as if other potential...

Translator Anton Hur on the increased visibility of queer Korean writers​.   Am I proud of this mini-feature of Korean queer literature in translation courtesy of Words Without Borders?  Hell yeah!  We have Lee Jong San, the second out queer Korean writer to publish a book of fiction, and an excerpt from that very book in question: Customer!  We have Kim Bong-gon, the third out queer Korean writer to publish a book of fiction, and an excerpt...

In this short story from Kim Bong-gon, a Korean student in Kyoto saves his professor from scandal, then finds himself on the verge of creating a new one.   Professor Shibata’s publishing class, with all its good intent, was slightly unrealistic. “A good writer makes a good editor, and vice versa.”  Her very first statement sounded like a fine opening, but upon giving it more thought, one began by asking “Oh, yeah?” and ended with a “Like...

A student meets her first androgyne and makes a startling discovery in this chapter from a futuristic novel by Lee Jong San.   My feet were wet when I met Ahn. It was the day before the Entrance Ceremony. The snow, which started falling the night before, had lasted till morning, and everything outside had turned white. For me, the ankle-deep snow was so exciting and new that I walked around in it outside for quite some time before returning to the dormitory. I opened the door to...

Susan Harris introduces our tenth Queer issue. Nearly a decade ago, our former editor Rohan Kamicheril planned an issue of queer writing. The issue proved so popular, and so reflective of our editorial vision, that we decided to make it an annual event. You’ll find queer writing at WWB throughout the year, but our June issues have provided a space to bring this multiplicity of voices into conversation with each other and with readers. This month we bring you our tenth Queer issue....

A sensuous prose poem from South Korean poet Lee Hyemi​.   We stood on our tiptoes and fumbled around the top shelf for a taste of those red, red things. With mouths dyed red, we felt like a pair of nipples.   Sister, we must be a cleverly split person. The morning we wore the disheveled green crowns of strawberries and spoke of our first wet dreams under the covers. We laid a chewy seed in every pore, growing recklessly private and gradually tender. In the kingdom for two...

In this short story by Afro-Puerto Rican author Yolanda Arroyo Pizarro, a tough preteen girl fights for acceptance and finds unexpected kinship.   1 I've come to the conclusion that purple is the color of secrets. In art class, the teacher insists on teaching us that colors have meanings. Red means passion. White is purity. Green seems to be the color of hope. Nobody speaks of purple but I encounter it so often, accentuating the skin, cheeks, and knees of so many classmates...

An anxious college student falls for a blue-collar man in Matteo Bianchi’s short story.   La stagione dell’amore viene e va   all’improvviso, senza accorgerti  la vivrai, ti sorprenderà. Love’s season comes and goes until suddenly you realize to your surprise, it is your life. —Franco Battiato The absurd heat of a May afternoon insinuates itself through my bedroom window to the accompaniment of Electronic’s mongrel mix...

A village tailor, a lonely client, and the shy apprentice caught in the middle, from a novel by Lu Min​.   Listen to Lu Min read "Scissors, Shining" in the original Chinese.   I was extremely devoted to studying Master Song’s craft, surrounded by swaths of cloth and bits of thread, whiling away a boyhood like a plant dyed an unnatural hue, brightly colored, but sick inside, silently suffering. I would go home once a week, and my parents would poke fun at...

A famous French writer recalls the affair that led to the secret of her success, from a novel by Céline Minard.   I drew up my first will as I was getting deeper and deeper into my third decade and my sales were increasing like an upwelling in a sea of oil, in order to stave off any potential plundering—postmortem or otherwise—and all havoc that could result from implied rights, from all the legal consequences that might arise should I have left everything...

In the grip of obsession, a man turns an open relationship into a triangle in an excerpt from a novel by Kári Tulinius.  Listen to Kári Tulinius read "Abel's Autobiography" in the original Icelandic.   Life never chooses the right moment to unveil love to you for the first time, when you’ve not yet experienced it—not, for instance, at a moment when the days are lumbering by at a crawl, like station wagons in bumper-to-bumper traffic—but...

Montenegro’s Stefan Bošković on a writer, his editor/lover, and a double dumping.   I look at the clock again. Forty minutes separate me from dinner. I’m nicely dressed. Elegant, in gray. Perhaps I’ll change my shirt. He’d like to see me in garish colors. I have orange shoelaces, at least. I sit at the computer and listen to the ocean. Photos of the sea in slideshow are supposed to bolster the feeling. It doesn’t help. I’ll jerk off...

In this excerpt from a novel by Kim Hye-jin, a struggling daughter moves back home and brings her lover, forcing her widowed mother to face facts.   The waitress brings out two steaming bowls of udon noodles. My daughter’s face seems a little tired, a little gaunt, and a little aged as she rummages through the utensils box for spoons and chopsticks. Didn’t you get my text message, Mom? she asks me. I did. I kept telling myself I should call you but then I...

Speculative fiction is alive and well in Italy, with its Urania Prize for the best Italian science fiction going back to 1989 and a whole host of publishers and gatherings that highlight sf occurring throughout the year. And yet, given the fact that Anglophone sf has dominated world markets during the twentieth century, and that Italian is not as widespread as, say, English or Spanish, Anglophone readers have yet to read much Italian speculative fiction. That is slowly changing, though,...

As we put together this issue on Arabic-language literature from the Sultanate of Oman, a country located on the southeastern coast of the Arabian Peninsula, our aim was simple: provide a space for underrepresented literary voices. The writing of Omani authors is scarcely circulated in translation, especially when it comes to book-length work, a sterling exception being Jokha Alharthi, who is featured in this issue. Similarly, Omani authors are barely featured in anthologies dedicated to...

In this speculative fiction piece, there are as many universes as robots' dreams.    Panic There’s still some snow on the path. Last week, this same mountain went suddenly quiet. It was snowing. Just like in fairy tales, she had thought, slowing her pace, beautiful and sad. And so unlike today’s desolation: everything looks naked, cold, inanimate. Her breathing labored, she hurries forward. A mystifying anguish clings to her. Not far now. She...

After her father’s sudden death, the poet tirelessly seeks to reckon with what is gone.   1 Like any Messiah taken unaware by death I saw my father                he was nodding to the palms, surrendered To his sweet sad songs, was greeting Happily the doves which settled on his shoulder Alone     no shadow to soften his loneliness  Alone the clouds    were praying to him And I was calling  ...

When Genie wakes up after six years in a coma, she finds a disturbing new addition to the family.  Listen to Francesco Verso read "AIwakening and AIdolon" in the original Italian. AIwakening Mark is the first person I see, after so long.  “She’s awake. Come over here.” It must be Easter because, apart from some flowers, he’s holding an Easter egg.  “Hello darling, what year is it?” “Hello, Genie, it’s 2028.”...

In this poem, the speaker meditates on the soul's journey through eternity after death.    The soul departing from trees of speech Does not want to ascend  Nor to be buried;   It wants to finish reading.  .. My heart is a stone that stumbled in the dirt and broke apart  .. O the mud of the storm,  heavy, it drags my soul  From one tavern to another     My hand is a cage that forgot to lock its door So speech flew away .. I am made...

Wistfulness meets indignation in Abdulaziz al-Omairi’s poetic meditation on abandonment and forgiveness.   You did not know that every time Fairuz sings to the dawn         on my way toward hurt  you emerge from the melody to reset sorrow ablaze only to depart like the years gone by taking my joy with you.   I waved my hand like a child whose mother vanished out of sight his feet rooted beneath the...