Enrique Vila-Matas on the Art of Fiction: "Literature is a mirror with the capacity, like some clocks, to run ahead of time." Antonella Anedda on the Art of Poetry: "I write to intensify reality and at the same time to undermine it."
Fiction by Lydia Davis, Shirley Hazzard, and Eloghosa Osunde.
Poetry by Margaret Atwood, Emma Hine, Yusef Komunyakaa, Nicole Sealey, and Gerald Stern.
Emily Nemens’s debut novel, The Cactus League, was a New York Times Book Review Editors’ Choice and named one of NPR’s and Lit Hub’s favorite books of 2020. Her stories have appeared in BOMB, The Gettysburg Review, n+1, and elsewhere; her illustrations have appeared in The New Yorker and in collaboration with Harvey Pekar. Nemens spent over a decade editing literary quarterlies, including leading The Paris Review and serving as co-editor and prose editor of The Southern Review. She held the 2022–23 Picador Professorship (University of Leipzig) and teaches in the MFA program at Bennington College. She lives in central New Jersey with her husband and dog.
When I saw that this edition had an interview with Enrique Vila-Matas I made the leap.
The Paris Review is famous for its The Art of Fiction interviews, and Vila-Matas is #247 on a long list of masters; several of these interviews, those published in the past, can often be found on the internet, including The Daily at Paris Review. I have loved Vila-Matas ever since I read both Bartleby and Co. and Montano's Malady. In the interview he talks about his own writing practice and those writers he has looked up to: Borges, Pitol, Gombrowicz, Bioy Casares, Bolano and Marguerite Duras whose home he stayed at as a fledgling writer and details in his book Never An End to Paris.
I could easily state that this interview is worth the price of admission but am happy to say there were several other gems in this edition:
Short stories by the Nigerian Eloghosa Osunde, the Turkish Aysegul Savas-Layover, and the American Lydia Davis. Poems by Jeffrey Skinner and David Kirby
Except for Lydia Davis I was unfamiliar with the writers mentioned and am pleased to have been introduced to their unique voices.
Really great collection of short stories and poems. It’s very cool to see certain author’s ‘side projects’ be featured here. The interviews I could not get into, but it’s probably because I am uncultured and don’t know the people being interviewed. I’m happy to be subscribed to this publication and can’t wait for the next release.
Longtime reader of the Paris Review and I’ve been happy with where the direction of the magazine has been going.
Fiction standouts to me were The July War, A Way with Bea, Good Boy, and Saint Culthbert’s Incorruptible Body.
Like many, I’m not always fully on board with some of the poetry choices, but there are some that usually stand out to me with each issue. In this one those were the ones from Nicole Sealey, John Lee Clark, Emma Hine, Margaret Atwood, and Gerald Stern.
Of course, the portfolio from Troy MIchie was a highlight of the issue.
As for the interviews, I tend to come back to them as I’ve read more of the author’s work. Just my thing.
I’m happy to keep seeing a good number of works from women identified writers, and writers of color.
ok the stories by shanteka sigers, aysegul savas, and eloghosa osunde killed me in a beautiful way. the rest is just fine. the paris review is obligated to put one boring, “edgy”, poorly written story into each issue & this time it was the mcguane one :-)
The Wyn Cooper poem, the two by Jeffrey Skinner. You feel like you’re in the hands of a master with the Lydia Davis stuff. I loved the last story by Barrett. I didn’t like the interviews. I kept getting annoyed thinking both artists were so privileged and the stuff they were concerned with so disconnected from people with jobs who read these issues on the subway. I mean, it’s fine, it doesn’t need to be, I guess
I found this issue less easy to get through than the last. My favorite piece in this issue was Lydia Davis’ “Left Hand” story. Let’s all admit — no one nails the short story form quite like she does.