“It will be difficult to continue this story of mine. I don’t even know if it is a story. It is difficult to call this a story, this constant ... clustering and falling apart ... of elements ...”. Leaving Warsaw on foot, Witold, our neurotic and sputtering narrator, would like to escape the Polish bourgeoisie. Instead he finds himself trapped in a rural inn, with his increasingly absurd obsessions. A pleasure akin to that of reading Flann O’Brien, Kafka, Bruno Schulz.
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Published: Grove Press - November 15th, 2011