riots and/or poetics [9/2024]

a kind of counter-history—is that poetry?   Chantal Akerman: Œuvre écrite et parlée Antoine Volodine: Vivre dans le feu Leslie Kaplan: The Book of Skies Éric Baudelaire: Make, Do, With — Film and exhibitions, 2011-2021 Nicolas Klotz, Elisabeth Perceval: les frontières brûlent Heiner Müller Jahrbuch 1 (2024) Christophe Hanna: Gloire Emmanuel Hocquard, Alexandre Delay: Le voyage à Reykjavik Archive of Dreams. Surrealist Impulses, Networks, and Vision Sylvain Courtoux: L’Avant-garde. Tête Brûlée. Pavillon noir Pavel Arsenev: Le russe comme non maternelle Thomas Harlan: Heldenfriedhof

Nathalie Quintane | “I want poetry to be detonated like a bomb!”

  Nathalie Quintane is among the most known experimental poets of France. To quote her from what she writes about herself in the French government’s publications website, this is what she writes- “My name is still Nathalie Quintane. I have not changed my date of birth. I still live in the same place. I am few in number but I am determined.” Nathalie belongs to the generation of post 60s French literary activists.   Rupak Bardhan Roy: Let me start by asking, what is literature to you and what is poetry? Are they one and the same thing? Nathalie Quintane: (Thinks a…

Nathalie Wourm | Poetic Sabotage and the Control Society: Christophe Hanna, Nathalie Quintane, Jean-Marie Gleize

Parallels can be drawn between Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari’s concept of “minor literature” and the artistic practice of a number of contemporary French writers, whose works do not only represent the voicing of their political contentions, but also act as verbal objects designed to undermine the mainstream idea of what literature is and should be. [..] Christophe Hanna, Nathalie Quintane, and Jean-Marie Gleize are three authors who share a number of theoretical ideas and political references and have been expressing their opposition to the system in this way.

riots and/or poetics [7/2020]

This racism is scattered, diffused throughout the whole of America, grim, underhanded, hypocritical, arrogant. There is one place where we might hope it would cease, but on the contrary, it is in this place that it reaches its cruelest pitch, intensifying every second, preying on body and soul; it is in this place that racism becomes a kind of concentrate of racism: in the American prisons, in Soledad Prison, and in its center, the Soledad cells.  If, by some oversight, racism were to disappear from the surface of the United States, we could then seek it out, intact and more…