Nic

Emptyyyy bottles! Buyyyyyyyyin'! This dramatic call, like that of the ancestors, which we have all heard at one time or another in Bucharest slums, reminded me of what happened to a friend of mine – it could be a comic thing, if it was not tragic – who went to Sovata

A few days or so ago, the Romanian press offered us, its obedient and flabbergasted beneficiaries, another opportunity to please and sharpen our minds. A new Gallup poll. And what is Gallup? Gallup is some sort of a modern, computerized Pythia. Claiming scientific positivism

It was common knowledge that Iacint Manoil was a lady-killer. He was so ugly that they were impressed. And so direct in his stupidity that he came over as honest. Like a millstone. He was an actor. Only those very beautiful or as ugly as sin can make a career in this profession.

excerpt Lying on the hot tile floor, Brave Leader was reaching back and scratching his ass with the Romanian people. What he lovingly called the Romanian people was in fact a tiny little bathroom brush with ivory engravings, which he never parted with, and liked to have

Speaking about I. L. Caragiale, i. e. the quintessential comic playwright in Romanian theater, N. Steinhardt made a few distinctions likely to offer generous openings: However powerful its spiritualism, Asia terrifies us with its uncivil dirt and squalor, while blind and

Almost no one in Vintileasa saw on TV the scene when the revolutionaries broke into the famous Studio 4 in the afternoon of 22 December 1989. The villagers were busy doing other, more important things. Some were killing their Christmas pigs. Others were stealing wood. Most

We joined forces and bought him an amazing present for his birthday. Then we put on smart black suits and black hats. We took the present and went to his place. It was two at night and murky. The fair was empty. Only a few pairs of lovers were kissing hidden in the merry-go-round

One sleepless night I went out to walk my dog. Although I had noticed that for a few days some digging had been in progress on my street, I failed to be heedful enough and fell in a ditch. Frightened, I started to scream:'Help! Help!''Well, dear,' said

Arhip had written thus: Educationally, the novel does not amount to very much. As simple as that. Even too simple, an aesthetically-minded critics might have objected. The typist, thinking of dinner, of guests and the fact that she hadn't managed to rustle up everything

Xmx is capable of voicing any text (well, not voicing, interpreting it), whether it is Shakespeare's or Chekhov's. There is just one single word he cannot say: no. He is solicited by a TV station for two lines consisting of three words; he would like to tell the

I couldn't say I was properly introduced to Magdalene, the wording would be equally pretentious and inexact; as a matter of fact, she actually rushed into my studio… She was tired, exhausted, shabby, as if she had come out of the hundred year war. I had worked all

It was almost closing time. I guess you all know what a horrible time that is! The waiters are all in a hurry not to miss the last tram that leaves Balcescu Square at ten past one; they are therefore busily collecting the tablecloths while the customers are still eating,