Contributions by Chris Meade
Chris Meade lives in Michigan where he is writing a comparative study of America and Anti-America in US-American and Latin American fiction. A long-time resident of the US Midwest, Chris got confused about what “America” means. After years of study, he is still confused. He is currently focused on the historical nomadism of authors like Alejo Carpentier, Willa Cather and Samuel Delany. In these authors’ works, characters wander through geographical territories but find themselves moving between historical epochs. This nomadism within history demonstrates American pluralism without stooping to the nationalist or homogenizing clichés of mestizaje or the melting pot. Chris also loves William Faulkner, Graciliano Ramos, Ricardo Piglia, Luisa Valenzuela, Joanna Russ, Poul Anderson and lots of others. He would love the opportunity to translate the work of Carlos Sussekind and to write a study on the uncanny similarities between Herman Melville and Roberto Bolaño.
Alfredito
Liliana Colanzi
translated by Chris Meade
Once, when I was a little girl, I saw a pig being killed. It was summer. Flies were launching themselves against the windows. I used to like to chew ice, and in the afternoon I would go up to the balcony with a glass brimming with little cubes to watch the neighbor, Mr. Casiano, breaking down old furniture with a handsaw on his patio. But not that day. I had just positioned myself against the bannister when a shriek struck me head-on. Mr. Casiano was crushing the creature with hammer blows. The pig howled—or grunted? or roared?—and ran for its life, half its face destroyed, but it was tethered by the neck to a starfruit tree and the rope only allowed it to run in frantic, ever-shortening circles around the tree. Mr. Casiano paused … Read More »
Natanael’s Notebook
Veronica Stigger
translated by Ramon Stern and Chris Meade
Opalka entered the small room in his son Natanael’s house and walked to the window, under which was a square wooden table, one of its sides pressed against the wall. On top of the table was a legal pad with a hard red cover, closed, a pot of ink—also red—and a pen. He sat down on the straw chair and opened the journal, where the following had been written:
Making an old book
a book of voyages
with pages that unfold
The story will start in a big city
—in a metropolis—
or by the sea
It will be the story of a lone man
an old man
a tired man
The man will be about sixty years old
wear a three-piece suit and two-tone shoes
and he’ll have a chimpanzee
His chimpanzee will be huge
the same size as my character
tall and … Read More »
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