Fiction
Ernesto
Contributor
AlfredALFRED was born in Grenoble, France in 1976. He launched with a few friends the publishing house Ciel Esther, where he has published several books. Alfred later formed the duo Crumble Club with author Olivier Ka; storytellers and musicians, the two perform and publish children's books and comics together. Their comic Why I Killed Peter has been translated into English by N.B.M. He currently lives in Venice, Italy. For more information, visit his blog.
RECOMMENDED ARTICLES
Before the Circus Left Town:
Rachel Mason’s Circus of Books
By Daniel Gerwin
APRIL 2020 | Film
I arrived at Circus of Books without the slightest clue I was walking into LA queer history. The store has since closed, but a new documentary, Circus of Books, explores its 33-year life and the story of its unlikely proprietors, Karen and Barry Mason, a straight and straight-laced Jewish couple. The movie’s director is their daughter Rachel, a multi-disciplinary artist who made a previous film in 2013, The Lives of Hamilton Fish.
Art Books Dispatches from the Brooklyn Antiquarian Book Fair
SEPT 2019 | Art Books
My conversation with Devers underscored the importance of collecting as a means of rectifying history. “It seems like a nostalgic pursuit, but the more energy in the market around certain books, the more likely it gets onto syllabus and back into print.”
Enghelab Street, A Revolution through Books: Iran 1979 – 1983
By Carol NisarDEC 19-JAN 20 | Art Books
Amassed by the artist Hannah Darabi, this oversized photobook casts a broadly curated lens on the sociopolitical turmoil induced by Iran’s Islamic revolution through a look at the Tehran’s underground publishing scene. Including personal recollections, first-hand accounts from publishers and photographers, and invaluable photographic documentation of the books and the city, Darabi and researcher Chowra Makaremi reconstruct this important moment in Iran’s history.
The Aesthetics of Silence: New Books by Ilya Kaminsky & Donna Stonecipher
By Kristina Marie DarlingMAY 2019 | Books
In a 2007 essay, Chris P. Miller asserts that “silence is a chronology, a beginning collapsed into the end.” For Miller, silence manifests as the first—and truest—form of compression, a charged and dense rhetorical space in which even time folds in on itself. Susan Sontag describes this remarkable compression not as a destructive force, but rather, as transcendence, a sure sign of language sublimating into dream, insight, and artistic vision. Approached with these ideas in mind, the gaps between words, lines, stanzas, and prose paragraphs becomes charged with possibility, a liminal space in which the rules governing speech no longer hold.
