The Time of Trial
I was lucky enough to overcome fear: I didn't sign the loyalty oath —and yet I'm free. Free? My time of trial only now begins. 12/1981
Article
Childhood Has Ended
trans. Russian Richard Lourie In memory it will be like this — the Dnieper River, Trukhanov Island, springtime, a near crimson sunset . . . us running together, arms racing in air. A nameless sadness went through my heart. Why? Weren't we together. Us three. At our games. But then evening fell. Time to leave….
The Testimony Of Jacques Rigaut
trans. French Ron Horning (On May 13, 1921, in an auditorium in Paris, the Dada poets try writer and politician Maurice Barrès for "crimes against the freedom of the spirit." A store mannequin is used as a dummy for Barrès, who in his recent fiction and journalism has spoken out eloquently in behalf of reactionary…
Atlantis
trans. Polish Richard Lourie “Same with this lieutenant we had in the army, name of Wozniak, a tall in the saddle kind of guy, yes, sir,” and along my temple the sober rectilinear chill of the scissors, clack of a razon on a strop behind me, local clarinets grinning on the radio. That I sailed…
Adam
trans. Russian Richard Lourie Having looked all around with an easy gaze, matting the grass as he walked that first day, he lay down in the shade of a fig tree and fell asleep, his hands behind his head. His sleep was sweet and deep and free beneath the blue peace of Eden's sky. ….
Tak-Nam
My family had moved to Hong Kong because Tak-nam, my older brother, was very sick. He had bad heart and lung problems, and we thought that Hong Kong, with its warm climate and ocean air, would help him. We lived in a cottage on top of a small hill overlooking a bay. The water was…
A Letter from the Sahara
trans. Italian Ruth Feldman After an hour spent in the desert, I try to set down in writing everything that I have learned. When walking in the desert you have to keep your gaze on the ground all the time so as to study the position of each step; under your eyes you always have…
Vigil
They waited all day for the sun to appear. Then, late in the afternoon, like a good prince, it showed itself for a few minutes. Blazing high over the benchland that lies at the foot of the peaks behind their borrowed house. Then the clouds were drawn once more. They were happy enough. But all…
Historical Necessity
Her journal was stolen. More correctly, her car was stolen and the journal was in the trunk in a tote bag. It happened three weeks ago, the day after she made the long drive from Portsmouth to Pennsylvania to spend Thanksgiving with her mother. She had just broken off a lingering love affair by changing…