What do you think?
Rate this book


176 pages, Hardcover
First published March 18, 2025
‘When I write, I use my body. I use all the sensory details of seeing, of listening, of smelling, of tasting, of experiencing tenderness—warmth—cold—pain—my heart racing and my body needing food and water—a mortal being with blood coursing through—As if I am sending out an electric current. And when I sense this current being transmitted to the reader, I am astonished and moved. In these moments I experience again the thread of language that connects us, how my questions are relating with readers through that electric, living thing.’
‘Back in my mid-twenties, I had written these lines on the first page of every new diary:
Can the present help the past?
Can the living save the dead?
As I continued reading, it became clear that these were impossible questions. Through this sustained encounter with the bleakest aspects of humanity, I felt the remnants of my long-fractured belief in humanity shatter entirely. And that my two questions had to be reversed.
Can the past help the present?
Can the dead save the living?
Later, as I was writing what would become Human Acts, I sensed at certain moments that the past was indeed helping the present, and that the dead were saving the living. I would revisit the cemetery from time to time, and somehow the weather would always be clear. I would close my eyes, and the sun’s orange rays would suffuse my lids. I felt it as life’s own light. I felt the light and air envelop me in indescribable warmth. To negotiate an impossible way through the empty space between these two precipices of human horrors and human dignity, I needed the assistance of the dead.’