Posts filed under 'COVID-19'

In This Together: Writers From Around the World Respond to the COVID-19 Outbreak

With this new condition, intimacy can be created. A fertile kind of intimacy that, perhaps, opens up a path towards unexpected doors.

For this week’s edition of In This Together, we present a fiction text from the award-winning Buenos Aires based author and poet, Jorge Consiglio, whose novel FATE was recently published by Charco Press. Carolina Orloff, Consiglio’s translator and editor at Charco Press, introduces the piece:

It is not new to hear that Argentina is undergoing yet another crisis, be it financial, social, or political. This time, however, it’s different. Not just because the crisis is affecting the entire world, but also because the man running things in the countryAlberto Fernández, who only came into power in December 2019—is miraculously showing that, in the face of these unprecedented times, he is one of the most lucid politicians in the world—certainly more so than Argentina could have hoped for, especially in exceptionally challenging times.

Jorge Consiglio is one of the most talented and sensitive authors (and thinkers) publishing in Argentina today. He is also the master of detail. Perhaps because he is a poet as well as a narrator, his prose style is able to capture a world of philosophical meanings and a whirlwind of emotions and possibilities in a single object, a fleeting gesture, the description of how light enters the room. It is that mastery that makes his literature so engrossing and beautiful, and at the same time, injects his stories with refreshing freedom.

In his text today, written during the first days of a strict lockdown, Consiglio thinks about the resignification of the details around us, of the possibility to reformulate the space that now contains us, inviting us to pause and realise that what may seem irrelevant acts of survival may actually also be heroic deeds.   

Confinement

by Jorge Consiglio

The first thing confinement brings about is a paradigm shift. It is no longer possible to circulate freely, and this situation alters our relationship with our surroundings. From this newly cloistered perspective, public space has changed, yet private space has been reshaped too.

Four weeks have passed. I am confined. I head outside every two or three days. I buy provisions, smell the air in the way that deer do, and return home. In Argentina, the lockdown is strict. We are aware that if the virus is not contained, our health system would simply collapse. We are careful; we comply with what is required. It’s about preserving integrity, but also about showing solidarity. We are isolated and we are trying to keep our spirits up. It is a form of resistance; at least that is how a part of the population understands it.

The first few days I had the illusion that I was going to be productive. I’d make the most of this time to read and write. The period of isolation would be fruitful, I thought. I soon confirmed that this idea was a pipe dream. The seclusion—like the cold or the damp—had permeated my body without me realising. It snuck into my brain cells (it was a negative charge on my dendrites) and began to tenderise them—an immediate effect that translated into anxiety and worry. Outside, the virus was wiping out humanity, while I was at home, fighting my demons. I thought about how I was going to survive the pandemic, and about my financial situation, which was looking ricketier every minute. My concern for those close to me was also getting deeper: my loved ones, given the situation, remained far away. READ MORE…

Weekly Dispatches from the Front Lines of World Literature

This week’s latest news from Sweden, France, United States, and Tibet!

This week, our writers bring you news from Sweden, where readers have been mourning the loss of two esteemed writers, Per Olov Enquist and Maj Sjöwall; the United States and Europe, where writers and artists have been collaborating for online exhibitions; and Tibet, where the Festival of Tibet has organized an unprecedented “Poets Speak from Their Caves” online event. Read on to find out more! 

Eva Wissting, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Sweden

Recently, Sweden lost two of its most prominent writers. On April 25, writer and journalist Per Olov Enquist, also known as P. O. Enquist, died at the age of eighty-five. He first became known to readers outside of Sweden with the novel The Legionnaires (in English translation by Alan Blair) which was awarded the Nordic Prize in 1969. In fact, many of his over twenty novels were awarded, including The Royal Physician’s Visit (translated by Tiina Nunnally), for which he received The August Prize in 1999, the most prestigious literary prize in Sweden. Enquist was also a literary critic, an essayist, a screenwriter, as well as a playwright. Several of his plays premiered on The Royal Dramatic Theatre and were directed by Ingmar Bergman. Furthermore, Enquist translated Friedrich Schiller’s play Mary Stuart and Henrik Ibsen’s Rosmersholm. READ MORE…

In This Together: Writers From Around the World Respond to the COVID-19 Outbreak

A week ago, I couldn’t have imagined this feeling, passing the Spring Festival in Wuhan locked-down like this.

For this week’s edition of In This Together, we present a non-fiction text from the prolific Wuhan-based writer, Fei Wo Si Cun 匪我思存 (psudonym of Ai Jingjing 艾晶晶), who has been publishing a series of texts, collected under the title The Wuhan Battle Diaries, since the first day of the city’s lockdown. Xiao Yue Shan, the translator of this text, explains the significance of these diaries:

The news in China came at the end of the lunar year; a particularly ill-fated time, as the holiday season piques the highest rate of travel both within and outside of the country. We did not know then what we know now—how quickly the virus would spread, how drastic its impact would be on our daily lives, and how, in a brief few weeks, the whole world would come to experience the same fear, trepidation, uncertainty, and weariness that the people of Wuhan awoke to in the thick of its winter.

Fei Wo Si Cun is an incredibly popular writer; her works, largely tales of love and desire, have made her a household name and launched her into screenwriting as well as media production. When the lockdown was first announced, her’s was one of the first voices sounding in response, and it has since persisted in its accounts. Her intimate, informal language charted the city’s tragedies—sometimes pragmatically, sometimes despairingly, yet always indelible with the sense of survival, and interwoven with a sense of intimate locality.

There are cities that become synonymous with their devastation—Wuhan, which had previously occupied a low tier in the global consciousness, will likely be bound to the COVID-19 pandemic for the enduring future. Yet, in Fei’s tender depictions of the city, we become privy to its actualities; there is a redemptive grace that even the most devastated places may persist as a home, as somewhere precious. Many of us around the world are finding ourselves suddenly estranged from our localities, which have been cleared of their familiarities and comforts, but it is my wish, in translating this, that a Wuhan woman’s love for her city may remind us of what we cherished of these places, of what we wish now to save.

Awaiting Spring Under Quarantine

by Fei Wo Si Cun 匪我思存

These days, I’ve been staying up late. Yesterday, at around two in the morning, when suddenly news came online that Wuhan would halt all forms of public transportation—subways, airports, train stations, and any other method of leaving the city—my chest thudded. First arrived the knowledge that these measures indicated the severity of this epidemic, then came the disbelief, that I would actually witness a lockdown like this in my lifetime. READ MORE…