writer, translator, and researcher whose work unfolds at the crossroads of literature, philosophy, and critical theory (currently writing about relics and time)
An Absence of Sea is officially out today.
https://t.co/lUdQbiq37u
You can find an excerpt here: https://t.co/GBLFlFOPd7
My gratitude to @AnsgarAllen, @Greg_Gerke, and to all of you.
@__ffree “I wanted to stay behind in September on the desert, this faded beach. I wanted my meals to be the ashes of my false cranes. To hold the heavy wind in my hair like water asleep in fishing nets.”
It was a joy to work on this film as guest director, making dream sequences, drone soundscapes among other sound design earlier this year.
Five Years, Four Months premieres next month in @KVIFF official competition—the first Colombian film to ever do so.
We die one before the other—there can be no other way. “One of the two will see the other die.” Celan died before Ingeborg, never knowing the fire that awaited her. Kafka died before Milena. Anne died before Thomas—leaving him in the impossibility of sharing death with the other.
The other withdraws most completely in death, yes, but the withdrawal was already there in every encounter. Death is just the most visible figure of the distance that had always sustained the relation; the name we give to when the other’s irreducible distance becomes undeniable.
It is not just that once we know someone, we can never unknow them; it is that once they enter our lives, we can never again be untouched by the possibility of their death, nor they by the possibility of ours.
And so, perhaps, the death of the other does not open an abyss between us; it illuminates the abyss that had accompanied us from the beginning, hidden within every gesture of intimacy.
“He knew the world in a deep and extraordinary manner. He was himself a deep and extraordinary world.”
An Obituary for Franz Kafka by Milena Jesenská; tr. George Gibian