Today is the 166th birthday of Karl May, the favorite writer of my childhood – well, adolescence, and someone who still holds a strange attraction for me. But then he exerted that strange attraction over generations of German-language readers (well, boys, mainly), while never really making any noticeable dent in other countries, or rather in translation (most of which were rather abysmal indeed). Nor have I ever heard any of my sophisticated US or French friends who are into film and admire the relatively little known work of Hans-Jürgen Syberberg discuss the second film – i.e. the Karl May film – that is flanked by one on Mad king Ludwig and one on Hitler. (Vincent Canby’s NYT review of the film is still available here). In Germany there is still an odd interest in the man’s work, with a new biography recently out, and various editions of his work re-issued every so often – for the curious, here’s a link to an English version of the on-line biography cum bibliography.
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Poasis II: Selected Poems 2000-2024
“Todesguge/Deathfugue”
“Interglacial Narrows (Poems 1915-2021)”
“Always the Many, Never the One: Conversations In-between, with Florent Toniello”
“Conversations in the Pyrenees”
“A Voice Full of Cities: The Collected Essays of Robert Kelly.” Edited by Pierre Joris & Peter Cockelbergh
“An American Suite” (Poems) —Inpatient Press
“Arabia (not so) Deserta” : Essays on Maghrebi & Mashreqi Writing & Culture
“Barzakh” (Poems 2000-2012)
“Fox-trails, -tales & -trots”
“The Agony of I.B.” — A play. Editions PHI & TNL 2016
“The Book of U / Le livre des cormorans”
“Memory Rose Into Threshold Speech: The Collected Earlier Poetry of Paul Celan”
“Paul Celan, Microliths They Are, Little Stones”
“Paul Celan: Breathturn into Timestead-The Collected Later Poetry.” Translated & with commentary by Pierre Joris. Farrar, Straus & Giroux
“Old Shatterhand”
Growing up in Romania in the ’70s, I must have read at least twenty Karl May volumes (in translation) between the ages of seven and nine. I wish I could re-read them, but I’m living in the US now, and all my childhood books are long gone… Even if I could find English translations, I doubt they would have the same effect. Nostalgia is very pernickety in its demands.