Böcker utgivna av New Directions Publishing Corporation

If this, Uwe Timm's enchanting novel, were a cautionary tale, the tag line would go something like this: Should you plan to be in Berlin on Midsummer Night, the time of the summer solstice - Watch Out! The narrator of Timm's story is a writer who simply can't get started on his next book. So he accepts a commission to write an article about potatoes. He has some interest in the subject because of an uncle who could, remarkably, from taste alone, differentiate one species of potato from another. Since one of the authorities on the subject worked in East Berlin, our hero takes off to do some research. Rushing around the newly united city, he becomes involved in a series of madcap adventures, strange entanglements, and odd, sometimes threatening encounters. Uwe Timm spins a fascinating tale here, one filled with surprise, magic, comedy, and hope.

Corman is one of modernism's enduring masters, a poet of prodigious talent and production whose work, both as poet and publisher, is intertwined with the Objectivists Louis Zukofsky and George Oppen, as well as the Black Mountain poets Robert Creeley and Charles Olson. Among those many giants, Corman's verse is perhaps the most committed to the sublime, refusing the temptation of "effect" for the tactile ink of line and "touch." Nothing/Doing presents a vital poetry of Zen koan and cognitive conundrum, but also one of uncompromising wisdom, where Corman can definitively declare: "There's only/one poem:/ this is it."

The Dry Danube, Paul West's nineteenth novel, is a uniquely daring, dazzling, bravura performance by an acknowledged master. The Dry Danube, presents Hitler's "memoir" of the years he spent as a failed art student in Vienna, just before World War One. Each of the book's four parts is a solid raving block of barbaric flourishes, free of paragraphing in its headlong rush of disgorged spleen. "I wanted to get at H. before the violence sets in," West remarked: "But most of all I wanted to get the motion of his mind, as seen by another." Hitler spews his rage over his blighted career and his desperate wooing of Treischnitt and Kolberhoff, "proud famous painters both." These "two men so important in my young life, yet so aloof from me," he tries to befriend, though "I would have had more success groveling before a statue of Frederick the Great or Charlemagne." ("These men do not so much control Art, they are Art. It makes you sick to think of it.") A risky venture, The Dry Danube stands a triumph -- baroque, chilling ("This was not the last the world would hear of me"), and scathingly humorous at the same instant.

In her new volume of prose poem "dialogues," Reluctant Gravities, Rosmarie Waldrop once again pushes the boundaries and definitions of poetry, prose, gender, relationship, even language itself. Intended as a sequel to The Reproduction of Profiles and Lawn of Excluded Middle, Reluctant Gravities gives the rhetorical "you" addressed in those earlier volumes a voice and response. Some of Waldrop's concerns are formal. As the author herself says, she "cultivates cuts, discontinuity, leaps, shifts of reference" in an attempt to compensate for the lack of margin, where verse would turn toward the white of the page, toward what is not. Instead, her "gap gardening" tries to place the margin, the emptiness inside the text. Yet the overriding point of the dialogues is determinedly human as the two voices with wit and philosophical playfulness debate aspects of "Aging," "Depression," "Desire," and even ''The Millennium."

"Rain Mirror," writes Michael McClure, "stands as my most bare and forthright book. It contains two long poems, 'Haiku Edge' and 'Crisis Blossom,' which are quite disparate from one another." Together, the poems complement each other as do light and dark. "Haiku Edge" is a poem of linked haiku, often humorous, sometimes harsh, and always elegant. "Crisis Blossom," in contrast, is a long poem in three parts that records the author's "state of psyche, capillaries, muscles, fears, boldnesses, and hungers down where they exist without management," and the months of shock and recovery during a psychophysical meltdown.

A Paradise of Poets is Jerome Rothenberg's tenth book of poetry to be published by New Directions, beginning with his Poland/1931(1974). In considering the title of his newest collection, he says: "Writing poetry for me has always included an involvement with the life of poetry--& through that life an intensification, when it happened, of my involvement with the other life around me. In an earlier poem I spoke of this creating a paradise of poets ... I do not of course believe that such a paradise exists in any supernatural or mystical sense, but I have sometimes felt it come to life among my fellow poets and, even more, in writing--in the body of the poem." In Rothenberg's hands, the body of the poem is an extraordinarily malleable object. Collage, translation, even visual improvisation serve to open up his latest book to the presence of poets and artists he has known and to others, past and present, who he feels have somehow touched him, among them Nakahara Chuya, Jackson Mac Low, Pablo Picasso, Leonardo da Vinci, Federico Garcia Lorca, Kurt Schwitters, and Vitezslav Nezval. Kenneth Rexroth once commented: "Jerome Rothenberg is one of our truly great American poets who has returned U.S. poetry to the mainstream of international modern literature. No one has dug deeper into the roots of poetry." With A Paradise of Poets, it is clear that this evaluation is as fresh today as it was twenty-five years ago.

A new American novel-about an ornothologist, a physicist, and a rabbi-that takes us deep into the heart of the Colombian Andes. In Andes Rising the reader is confronted with a mystery. What happened to Thomas Cooper? A scientist who had worked on the Manhattan Project and attended the disarmament conference following World War II, he had quit his job, left his family, and gone off to Colombia, South America, on an ornothological project undertaken by the Peace Corps. His family and friends have lost all trace of him. Finally his mother persuades her rabbi to go down to Colombia and find out if Thomas is dead or alive. What the rabbi eventually finds is Thomas's journal filled with notes about his bird studies, ruminations about life (to which the rabbi sometimes responds), and pages from the work of Chapman, the early 20th-century ornothologist who collected specimens for the Museum of Natural History. Flashing through all is a rare tanager with turquoise markings. The director of the project wants Thomas to bring in specimens of this bird. "If what is being prepared is another extermination," Thomas writes, "I am not going to abet it by pushing another bird to extinction." But is he slowly going mad? Does he die in the avalanche, or is he somewhere among the birds of the Andes?

Eelgrass, Joe Ashby Porter's first novel, takes place on an unnamed island somewhere just offshore the Atlantic coast of our imaginations. The ingredients of this wonder-full story blend together as effortlessly as the cocoa and marijuana in the Alice B. Toklas brownies baked (repeatedly) by Daisy, owner of the old farmhouse that serves as a summer commune for herself and her "guests": practical Annabel, guitar-playing Jimbo, puppylike Thuggy, and Carter, the golden boy. Add to the five young people: two beautiful, fay "pushers" who live in the woods and keep the whole island well supplied with a cornucopia of uppers, downers, hallucinogens, coke, and hash; one wiry widow of a sea captain, the oldest resident on the island, who saves inept sailors like Thuggy and Jimbo from themselves; one misanthropic musician who wants to steal Daisy's farmhouse; one frantic capitalist, his wife and two little girls (who have a talent for stumbling in on adult activity); and one carnivorous were-creature who lives on the island, unknown to all the others. The result is a dreamy midsummer madness that is at once wistful and hilarious, suspenseful and touchingly innocent; for here, greed, ambition, violence, the confrontations of real life exist but have lost all power to harm. The narrative is simple, direct, lyrical; it produces a powerful nostalgia for what was hoped for in those days before the "greening of America" withered in the bud. Author Porter comments: "I began the novel in 1970 and very quickly it was clear to me that the book would be in part an envoi to the preceding decade. There are kinds and kinds of dreams. Eelgrass is meant to delight and be accessible, it is meant to be sunny and give comfort and hope to as many people as possible. It is meant to let them smile remembering it, like a vision of innocence."

Originally published in Belgrade in 1969 and never before translated into English, Early Sorrows is a stunning group of linked stories that memorialize Danilo Kis's childhood. Kis, a writer of incomparable originality and eloquence, famous for his books The Encyclopedia of the Dead, Hourglass, and A Tomb for Boris Davidovich, was born in 1935 in Subotica, Yugoslavia, near the Hungarian border. "Back and forth over this land, during Danilo Kis's childhood, armies and ideologies washed with the brutal regularity of surf," William Gass noted in The New York Review of Books. "As a small boy and a Jew, in such circumstances, he was naturally surrounded by death and lies." All of the works of Danilo Kis show the crucial importance of his childhood experiences, but it is Early Sorrows that goes to the wellspring of his first bereavements. The twenty pieces that make up Early Sorrows strike various tones--from dreamy pastorals to exercises in horror. Kis's ingenuity, lyricism, and tonal subtlety are caught in all their luster by Michael Henry Heim. Early Sorrows centers on Andreas Sam, a highly intelligent boy whose life at first seems secure. His mother and sister dote on him; he excels at school; when he is hired out as a cowherd to help with the family's finances, he reads the day away in the company of his best friend, the dog. He can only sense that terrible things may be going on in the world. Soon soldiers are marching down the road, and then one day, many people from the village are herded together and taken away, among them, his father, the dreamer.

James Laughlin (1914-97) was a poet of distinction as well as the founding publisher of New Directions. A Commonplace Book of Pentastichs, the last book of his own that he helped to prepare, is a compilation of 249 poems composed in a five-line stanza form first introduced in The Secret Room (1997). A note to "Thirty-nine Pentastichs" in that earlier volume explains: "a 'pentastich' refers simply to a poem of five lines, without regard to metrics. The word is Greek derived, from pentastichos, though few survive from ancient times... The present selection is of recent short-line compositions in natural voice cadence, many of them marginal jottings and paraphrases of commonplace book notations." Musing on the full collection, Hayden Carruth writes in his introduction: "For the reader it is a survey of literature that will never be found in the classroom--praise whatever gods may be--but indubitably will be found in loving and longlasting proximity on many a bedside table." Here, then, are armchair marginalia and aperçus to be savored at random.

"Reading time is approximately four hours. Remembering time, as for its author, the rest of one's life," said Joseph Brodsky of Fleur Jaeggy's novel, Sweet Days of Displine. Now Jaeggy has come up with seven stories, each at some deep level in dark complicity with the others, all as terse and spare as if etched with a steel tip. A brooding atmosphere of horror, a disturbing and subversive propensity for delirium haunts the violent gestures and chilly irony of these tales. Full of menace, the air they breathe is stirred only by the FÜhn, the warm west wind of the Alps that inclines otherwise respectable citizens to vent the spleen and angst of life's last vanities.

If this, Uwe Timm's enchanting novel, were a cautionary tale, the tag line would go something like this: Should you plan to be in Berlin on Midsummer Night, the time of the summer solstice - Watch Out! The narrator of Timm's story is a writer who simply can't get started on his next book. So he accepts a commission to write an article about potatoes. He has some interest in the subject because of an uncle who could, remarkably, from taste alone, differentiate one species of potato from another. Since one of the authorities on the subject worked in East Berlin, our hero takes off to do some research. Rushing around the newly united city, he becomes involved in a series of madcap adventures, strange entanglements, and odd, sometimes threatening encounters. Uwe Timm spins a fascinating tale here, one filled with surprise, magic, comedy, and hope.

Katschen & The Book of Joseph makes an amazing American debut for Israeli writer Yoel Hoffmann. Intensely moving, the two novellas display the entirely original poetry and hypnotic verve of Hoffmann's atomized language, which Rosmarie Waldrop has called "utterly enchanting--it is like nothing else." "The Book of Joseph" tells the tragic story of a widowed Jewish tailor and his son in 1930s Berlin. "Katschen" gives an astounding child's-eye view of a boy orphaned in Palestine. "When Yoel Hoffmann's books first appeared in the late 1980s," Professor Nili Gold has commented, "they seemed to have tunneled their way into Israel from afar....Technically of the same generation (the 'Generation of the State') as canonical realist writers like A.B. Yehoshua and Amos Oz, he didn't begin to publish fiction until his late forties, and in many ways he represents a generation of one, at the edge of the Israeli avant-garde."

From the master twentieth-century playwright Tennessee Williams-an adaptation of Chekhov's The Sea Gull, never before available to the general trade. The Notebook of Trigorin is faithful to Chekhov's story of longing and unrequited love. Set on a provincial Russian Estate, its peaceful environs offer stark contrast to the turbulent lives of its characters. Constantine, a young writer, must compete for the attention of his mother, a self-obsessed, often comical aging actress, Madame Arkadina, and his romantic ideal, Nina. His rival for both women is Trigorin, an established author bound to Arkadina by her patronage of his work, and attracted to Nina by her beauty. Trigorin cannot keep himself from consuming everything of value in Constantine's life. Only in the final scenes do all discover that the price for love and fragility can be horribly high. But if the words in The Notebook of Trigorin are essentially Chekhov's, the voice belongs firmly to Tennessee Williams. The dialogue resonates with echoes of the themes Williams developed as his signatures-compassion for the artistic soul and its vulnerability in the face of the world's "successfully practiced duplicity" (Act I).

In his palace in a city vanquished by the years, the Duke Gonzaga lives consumed by his passion for young girls and his deep boredom. Time passes as marked by the more than two hundred clocks situated throughout the palace. When the old hourmaster and his successor both disappear, Gonzaga employs Arturo who becomes the new keeper of the palace's timepieces. Arturo -- called Gog -- also becomes the Duke's friend and for a time alleviates Gonzaga's boredom as they share the nightly clock-keeping rounds. There seems to be the beginning of new life in the realm. The hourmaster marries happily and fathers a daughter. But the Duke's restlessness and ennui return and when the hourmaster vanishes -- for reasons the reader is to discover -- time again stands still. In the words of the translator Richard Howard, Christophe Bataille's third novel "is a remarkable, even triumphant little book."

The main character, Andrei, is a passenger aboard the Yellow Arrow, who begins to despair over the trains ultimate destination and looks for a way out as the chapters count down. Indifferent to their fate, the other passengers carry on as usual - trading in nickel melted down fro the carriage doors, attending the Upper Bunk avant-garde theatre, and leafing through Pasternak's Early Trains. Pelevin's art lies in the ease with which he shifts from precisely imagined science fiction to lyrical meditations on past and future. And, because he is a natural storyteller with a wonderfully absurd imagination. The Yellow Arrow is full of the ridiculous and the sublime. It is a reflective story, chilling and gripping.

"With a narrative style and humor that sometimes hints at Nabokov, Zinik, who left Russia in 1975, crafts amazing stories depicting the plight of emigres as they endure their solitude and try, ultimately, to create new lives and new selves. These eight stories give glimpses of the mindset and frustrations that the narrator (also named Zinovy Zinik) experiences. In "A Ticket to Spare," a Russian Jew who travels to Kiev to see a Duke Ellington concert experiences the difficulty of seeking comfort in an unfamiliar city if only for a day. Being both Russian and Jewish, Zinik finds it hard to meet folks in Kiev; even on the anniversary of the slaughter of the Jews at Babi Yar, he's shunned by fellow Jews engaged in a secret prayer for the victims. The stories have an archness of tone, a playfulness born of the experience of displacement and the accompanying knowledge that the world is endlessly mutable. In "A Chance Encounter," Zinik is allowed by the Soviets to return home briefly to visit his mother's grave, where he meets a woman he vaguely remembers. He becomes convinced she is a former girlfriend, only to find out that she is that former girlfriend's daughter. While walking around Moscow, he enters a familiar building and is suddenly overcome by "a Soviet version of Proustian nostalgia, carried by the urine and garbage underfoot, illuminated by a naked spattered bulb as dim as memory." Zinik captures perfectly and evocatively these memories, which reverberate within his own cork-lined room." --Publishers Weekly.

As Erik Anderson Reece says in A Balance of Quinces, "Many know Guy Davenport the creator of fiction, the critic, the illustrator, the poet, the translator.... But Guy Davenport the monastic painter is still unknown." Here gathered for the first time is a generous collection of Davenport's paintings and drawings, interwoven with commentary by poet and critic Erik Anderson Reece. The broad scope of Davenport's artistic output is included here: the pen-and-ink portraits, the abstract still lifes, and the collage compositions. Erik Anderson Reece's essay provides cultural background for the work and examines it as am extension of Davenport's writings. Besides the plentiful black-and-white reproductions throughout the text, this edition of A Balance of Quinces also includes twenty-four pages of color plates.

Debra Di Blasi writes from the heart of the Postmodern American Gothic. A native Missourian, she plumbs the depths of psychosexual repercussion and searing sentiment behind the region's parched, pitchfork-bearing façade. Though her writing has been widely published in literary journals, Drought, paired here with a second novella, Say What You Like, is a stunning first foray into book form. In Drought, Di Blasi dissects a young couple's relationship on a failing cattle ranch, allowing us to see all the subcutaneous mental and physical violence they endure. As unceasing heat kills the couple's livestock, Di Blasi focuses a science writer's exactitude and a poet's charged restraint on the human cost of rural tragedy. Say What You Like offers an even more ruthless examination of a couple's deep-seated pain. Pared down to short, numbered sections, the relationship of a nameless "He" and "She" is laid bare by Di Blasi's unflinching skill with the scalpel. Debra Di Blasi is a daring young writer of the top order.

Guy Davenport's story collection A Table of Green Fields (New Directions, 1993) was praised for its amazing artistry and "stratospheric" literary intelligence (Kirkus Reviews). As The Washington Post noted, "It draws one in with its austere, beautifully formal sentences, its rich pattern of memory." In Davenport's follow-up collection, The Cardiff Team, the stories continue in this vein, their texts a wondrous collage of persons, events, and ideas from cultural history. The central theme is that of tribeless people joining, or trying to join, a team, a tribe, or a society. In "The Messengers," Franz Kafka visits the Jungborn Health Spa in the Harz mountains and tries to feel comfortable in his own skin. In "Boys Smell Like Oranges," a soccer team of boys from Henry de Montherlant's Les Olympiques is its own contained tribe. The Cardiff Team perfectly displays Guy Davenport's illustrious prose and his audacity; confirming The New Yorker's assertion that his is "among the very few, truly original voices now audible in American letters."

Johannes Bobrowski (1917-1965) is known as one of Germany's greatest writers. His first novel, set in a West Prussian village in 1874, tells the story of the narrator's grandfather, who plots and schemes to ruin the Jewish newcomer who has built a mill downstream from him. With splendid irony, Bobrowski describes the diverse characters of the Jews, Poles, Gypsies, and Germans who inhabit the village, and whose affairs mirror the larger history of Poland. As The Irish Times says, "Bobrowski has a marvelous ability to evoke the countryside and a vanished way of life... throughout the entire book there is a keen though understated element of humour, as well as a compelling, dream-like sense of fantasy."

Jerome Rothenberg holds a premier place in the American avant-garde. The poems in Seedings, his newest collection, leap across history. Past and future become entwined, and the intricate paths reaching from one century and one millennium into another double back into timelessness ("as the twentieth century winds down/the nineteenth century begins/again"). The long title poem that opens this fin-de-siecle gathering is, appropriately, a celebration of poets and friends--such as Robert Duncan, George Oppen, and Paul Blackburn--who have entered what Rothenberg calls "a Paradise of Poets." "Seedings" is followed by four other sections, "Improvisations" is a series of high-energy poems in a mode of open writing characteristic of much of the poet's experimental work, while "Twentieth Century Unlimited" is an assemblage of travel poems and personal observations. "An Oracle for Delfi" revisits and sees anew a classical landscape long the inheritance of Western poets. A final sequence, "14 Stations," joins the concise verbal techniques of gematria (traditional Hebrew numerology) with the stark agonies of the Holocaust last explored by Rothenberg in Khurbn & Other Poems (1989).

Proper Name collects for the first time the inimitable stories of Bernadette Mayer-"one of the most original writers of her generation" (The Washington Post).The nineteen narratives of Proper Name include "My Excellent Novel," "Ice Cube Epigrams," "Essay: How Carefully Do We Tend?" and "Juan Gave Nora a Pomegranate." Mayer's structural inventions are terrific and unique. As Fanny Howe remarked in The American Book Review, "In a language made up of idiom and lyricism, Mayer cancels the boundaries between prose and poetry."

There is a set-phrase in Chinese referring to the phenomenon of Li Po: "Winds of the immortals, bones of the Tao." He moved through this world with an unearthly freedom from attachment, and at the same time belonged profoundly to the earth and its process of change. However ethereal in spirit, his poems remain grounded in the everyday experience we all share. He wrote 1200 years ago, half a world away, but in his poems we see our world transformed. Legendary friends in eighth-century T'ang China, Li Po and Tu Fu are traditionally celebrated as the two greatest poets in the Chinese canon. David Hinton's translation of Li Po's poems is no less an achievement than his critically acclaimed The Selected Poems of Tu Fu, also published by New Directions. By reflecting the ambiguity and density of the original, Hinton continues to create compelling English poems that alter our conception of Chinese poetry.