"Natural history is nothing more than the nomination of the visible. Hence its apparent simplicity, and that air of naïveté it has from a distance, so simple does it appear and so obviously imposed by things themselves." - Michel Foucault
We are getting a divorce.
There is always a long train of crying people and a shorter train of laughing people. Yet, there is a third train of people who no longer cry and no longer laugh. The saddest of the three. That's what I want to talk about.
The apocalypse may take place in one particular country.
Why does the toilet induce the urge to write? Most of those writers hardly have the urge any other time. I'm sure they never wrote a single line on paper. The toilet wall, however, is a special kind of medium. Publishing there brings different pleasures.
The toilets are the only surveillance-free space. A real utopia where power is absent, everybody is equal and everybody can do what he wants under the pretext of doing what he came for. A feeling of absolute impunity. You can't get it anywhere else, just the grave and the toilet.
Nobody has ever succeeded in transporting something from his dream. On the way out of dreamland there's an invisible customs-house where everything is confiscated.
Insanely funny and moving, Natural Novel is driven by a man's obsessive need to come to terms with his dissolving marriage and his wife's infidelity with their close friend. Mimicking the complex and fragmented way that a fly sees the world, this remarkable novel contains a myriad of storylines, reflections, and digressions, including a history of toilets and the graffiti found therein, a mediation on the relationship between bees and language, and an attempt to write a book using only verbs. Gospodinov's first novel is clear evidence that some of today's most inventive and groundbreaking fiction is being written in countries usually ignored in the English-speaking world.