And now…, she writes, pulling on a thread of letters that linger in the air, letters hesitant to position themselves; she writes to interrupt, to tame his eagerness, and so there is no need for the writing to go on, there is nothing she could add that would give them more than what two small words have given them: the possibility of breath. Breath as symbol and breath as what sustains the body. The continuity of memory. Their bodies: two dialects of the same language, two readings of the same page. She writes, and breath invades the room. She writes, and from this writing flows a metaphysical likeness that can have no other origin but that of ink. Her ink in his brain.
Christina Tudor-Sideri's fourth book is a novel about intimacy and dressing absence in reinterpretation as an act of love. In the space between words, in the split between human and horizon, Edvard Munch’s shades of blue, the germination of desire, isolation, melancholy, despair, and the inescapable touch of forgetting.
Christina Tudor-Sideri is a writer and translator. She is the author of the book-length essay Under the Sign of the Labyrinth, the novel Disembodied, and the collection of fragments, If I Had Not Seen Their Sleeping Faces. Her translations include works by Max Blecher, Magda Isanos, Anna de Noailles, Mihail Sebastian, and Ilarie Voronca.
Physical Info: 7x5x0.5 inches | 190 Pages | Paperback