Ni

Mateiu Caragiale left us a literary heritage, fragmentary in its outlook that puzzled and amazed through its originality, through an appetite for mystery it seemed to originate in, through the secret inspiration that fed it and through its old-fashioned lyricism which was

excerpts Que voulez-vous, nous sommes ici aux portes de l'Orient, où tout est pris à la légère. Raymond Poincaré*Welcoming the Philanderers…au tapis-franc nous étions réunis. L. Protat**Although no further than the night before I had promised myself under

Mateiu Caragiale was the natural son of Ion Luca Caragiale, the greatest Romanian playwright. However, his literary output appears like a challenge to his heredity rather than a filiation. The world portrayed is the same, the Balkan one, with its mixture of pretension and

(25. 03. 1885 – 17. 01. 1936)If you had passed through St. Gheorghe square a few years ago, you could have seen a man immediately catching the eye by the way he looked. It was a dry winter, crisp snow under your feet. The man, who was around 45-50 years of age, had an

*More than a century ago Europe was not yet known as a cultural construction, an intellectual day-dream, a heap of broken images, a copy in a world without originals. Artists tried to escape the big fortress ensconced in coal smog and torn by wars, social conflicts, and

excerptsLet us begin with on obvious fact – Urmuz is a myth, is he not? Useless like all myths, functioning due to inertia, the coronation of certain clichés. Who reads Urmuz these days? Urmuz was the object of critical studies, his work has been translated, and his name

Urmuz was a great revelation to our generation, and it is reassuring to note that he was that to all generations, indeed: a providential personality, a Christopher Columbus reborn, the founder of a different America, of game and freedom; a native, solitary genius, perhaps

1. His parents christened him Dimitrie, but he knew the appropriate name for himself, so he changed it to Demetru. He had said this himself, people should find names for themselves in tune with their own personal reality, or they should change themselves, while that is still

The research with a satyr's eye of the flaccid, common, adjacent mores.  His heroes resemble us in the whims for the sake of which we all are sometimes weak, fictitious, camouflaged. St. ROLL Urmuz… alongside Eminescu, with their turmoil and tragic end, with their

 Ismaïl is made up of eyes, sideburns, and a dress, and can be found with the greatest difficulty these days. Time was when Ismaïl grew in botanical gardens as well, but then, more recently and thanks to the advances of modern science, one has been synthesized chemically.

IA well-ventilated apartment consisting of three rooms, glass-enclosed terrace and a door-bell. Out front, a sumptuous living-room, its back wall taken up by a solid oak book-case perennially wrapped in soaking bed-sheets… A legless table right in the middle, based on

 The rain stopped and what was left of the clouds had scattered completely… He wandered in the dark night with his clothes wet and his hair unkempt looking for a cranny he might take shelter in… He arrived, without knowing, at the crumbling and time-caried crypt of