tamizdat(a)

n. writings which were published abroad and smuggled back into the U.S.S.R.; (also) this system of publication.

AH: It’s very important; it is a central theme, the essence of storytelling. There’s a John Birger quote that says: “Never will a story be told again if it were the only one.” I’m not sure what the marking of that was for him. In essence, you can’t tell one story without telling other stories. That’s the essence of storytelling. Telling stories in isolation winds up with some sort of navel-gazing and you wind up with a self-indulgent memoir.

To me, the interesting thing as a storyteller and a writer, and also as a human being, I can’t see people isolated from others. They come and tell stories in relation to other people and their stories. I wanted to explore that. I wanted Rora to keep telling stories which are not about himself, stories about baring witness, sort of an epic narrative. It does not deal with his own psychology. On the other hand, there is Brik, who is kind of a navel gazer, and it is a combination of the two of them, from the two narrative modes that they practice that in some ways the Lazarus story emerges. One way of looking at it for me, Rora and Brik practice storytelling but then the story told after those practices is the story of Lazarus.

—   Hemon, interviewed here. I especially love that sentiment: “I can’t see people isolated from others. They come and tell stories in relation to other people and their stories.” (via yoojingrace)
Zejneba Hardaga and Rivka Kalb. Sarajevo, 1941
via yadvashem.org
wwnorton:

lareviewofbooks:


“Kalaj is the rough draft of who I am. I am the finished copy. The one where the erasures have been made, where the rough spots have been polished. I’m as roughshod as he is, except I’ve learned to hide it. I also have a singular advantage: I am legal, he is not. I go to Harvard, a patrician institution; he’s a cab driver, a servant. That makes us very different. The young man I was then didn’t care — or at least a good part of me didn’t care — that he was a cab driver. He spoke my language, we understood each other totally, we shared centuries of common history.”

Andre Aciman and Hope Reese discuss emigration, narrative identity, and living in Harvard Square. Read the whole interview here.

If you live in NYC, DC, or Boston, don’t miss hearing André Aciman discuss immigration, narrative identity, and Harvard Square in person at one of his scheduled events.

wwnorton:

lareviewofbooks:

“Kalaj is the rough draft of who I am. I am the finished copy. The one where the erasures have been made, where the rough spots have been polished. I’m as roughshod as he is, except I’ve learned to hide it. I also have a singular advantage: I am legal, he is not. I go to Harvard, a patrician institution; he’s a cab driver, a servant. That makes us very different. The young man I was then didn’t care — or at least a good part of me didn’t care — that he was a cab driver. He spoke my language, we understood each other totally, we shared centuries of common history.”

Andre Aciman and Hope Reese discuss emigration, narrative identity, and living in Harvard Square. Read the whole interview here.

If you live in NYC, DC, or Boston, don’t miss hearing André Aciman discuss immigration, narrative identity, and Harvard Square in person at one of his scheduled events.

(Source: lareviewofbooks)

Kounellis in Sarajevo (via chourmo)