Publishing

I can almost hear Gellu Naum saying: I fell on the pavement on account of the old tree roots which have heaved it. There was a smell of putrid leaves. And of putrid earth. I could not lift myself up. From somewhere, came a cur of a dog. 'You want grass,' I asked.

(1. 08. 1915-29. 09. 2001) Gellu Naum (1915-2001) was the only writer pertaining to the historical Romanian surrealist avant-garde who survived, rather untouched but also more or less unheard, the vicissitudes of a half a century of Communist rule. He started publishing

excerptsFondane's departure was the result of a personal choice, decision made in absolute freedom, without any pressure from the outside. And, because he was Jewish, we must add that his departure was not triggered by an anti-Semitic gesture against him or by any anti-Semitic

Real name: Benjamin WexlerBorn in Iasi, 1898. Boarding school in Iasi. Debut at 16 in O. Densusianu's The New Life magazine (1914). He reads some of his poems to Ion Minulescu during the refuge (Iasi). He establishes the Island avant-garde theatre (with Armand Pascal).

Max L. Blecher was the son of a wealthy Jewish businessman from Moldavia. After graduating from college in Moldavia, he went to Paris to study medicine, but soon he got ill and became a cripple, forced to stay in bed till the end of his days because of bone tuberculosis.

NOTES HoroscopeFebruary 2, 1921, 18:00, at Margot'sVery, very proud, capable of dissimulating anything. Compulsive gambler with a fondness for women; extremely passionate, I run the risk of killing someone. I have inherited the intelligence and character of my mother.

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

*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

* Gayk is the only civilian wearing a pauldron for supporting rifles on his right shoulder. His Adam's apple is sucked in and his morale is always very high. He cannot be hostile to anyone for too long, but judging from his slanting looks, from the direction sometimes

We are stepping in on a realm of legend. My reader undoubtedly knows the thrill of finding himself in places bearing a special aura. Something memorable has occurred there. Not necessarily a glorious, heroic deed, a moment of history, but an act of spirit (pardon my grandiloquence!)

*I intended to be concerned with literary form in this series of reportage. I can see I have done better than I expected. At the moment, my problem is preserving the chronological order of events. Our departure from Odessa was marked by a small, insignificant in fact, incident,