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Last Words from Montmartre (New York Review Books Classics)
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Review
"I’d put Last Words in a category that includes much of Kathy Acker and Henry Miller. Stein, too...It’s a deeply personal text. Yet it bears reading and rereading an abundance of times."—Eileen Myles, Bookforum"Qiu’s voice, both colloquial and metaphysical, enchants.... It would be wrong to interpret the book’s—or, for that matter, the author’s—ultimate surrender to death as a rejection of the richness of life; rather, like Goethe’s young Werther, this 'last testament' (an alternative translation of the title) affirms the power of literature." —Publishers Weekly“Last Words from Montmartre is urgent, ecstatic, unbridled, and breathtakingly intimate. Qiu Miaojin is a writer who truly defies categorization, and this book, her last—part confession, part love letter, part fiction, part memoir, part suicide notes—is a thrilling testament to her original mind and impassioned heart.” —Sarah Shun-lien Bynum“Last Words from Montmartre is deeply, soulfully moving in its excruciating revelation of the author’s innermost self, which is after all what makes the magic of literature. I felt a secret intimacy with Qiu Miaojin from the first page.” —Wang Dan “Qiu Miaojin...had an exceptional talent. Her voice is assertive, intellectual, witty, lyrical, and intimate. Several years after her death, her works continue to command a huge following.” —Tze-lan Deborah Sang“A flawless translation.”—Josh Stenberg, World Literature Today “What makes Kerouac or Salinger timeless is not necessarily literary, but perhaps didactic: the fact that there is wisdom to be found at the fountain of youth, no matter what time one arrives. Of course, there is also a saintliness reserved for those authors who are able to make an interesting life story for themselves, and that order includes Qiu Miaojin.” —Bonnie Huie, PEN America blog “Qiu’s unique literary style mingl[es] cerebral, experimental language use, psychological realism, biting social critique through allegory, and a surrealist effect deriving from the use of arrestingly unusual metaphors.” —Fran Martin"In Last Words from Montmartre, selves and emotions hurtle through time and space with terrifying force — both destructive and productive — and ecstasy and pain exist in very close proximity.” —FullStop“Last Words from Montmartre [is] intense, brutal and beautiful. A love letter and a suicide note." —The Rumblr “Few writers use the confession and aphorism as purely and effectively as Qiu, whose poetry offers a distinct type of clarity; Last Words from Montmartre achieves a profoundly intimate portrait of an individual whose life unravels before us.” —Jenn Mar, Rain Taxi "Ari Larissa Heinrich’s translation is so skillful because he is able to understand Qiu as an artist, including all her tiny nuances, and her importance as an artistic figure…This is a novel of passion: the passion to love, to understand, to know, to express, to connect, to live and to die with reason...As readers, when a writer lays bare for us with such brutal honesty, truth will always be what we see…This isn’t a book of love letters or a book of suicide notes; its a testament to the power of artistic courage in the face of pain, misery and isolation." —Monica Carter, Three Percent “Thanks to Heinrich's skill and judgment, Qiu’s passion is as overwhelming and relentless a force in translation as in the original. Qiu’s prose strikes the reader like a tsunami: waters of an unassuming height slowly but assuredly surge onto the land until they fill every room and take every object not nailed down. This is not simply passion, but what the Chinese call qing, which is passion as a full-blown aesthetic ideology. For those overcome by it, qing becomes the sine qua non of existing in the world. To quote the preface of the sixteenth-century play The Peony Pavilion, qing can cause “the living to die, and the dead to live again.” — Dylan Suher, Asymptote“Echoing W. B. Yeat’s formulation, ‘only an aching heart/ Creates a changeless work of art”, the narrator believes that greatness is only achieved ‘if the artist has suffered through profound tragedy and death”. We must thank Qiu’s skilful translator, Ari Larissa Heinrich, for bringing this study of anguish from the Chinese to the English. ‘Only a spirit of artistic sincerity can console the souls of humankind’, writes the narrator as her suicide nears. Readers of Last Words from Montmartre may agree. But who will console the artist?” — Michael LaPointe, Times Literary Supplement“The chaos of the book’s construction is part of its intimacy, giving the reader access to memories as the narrator recalls them, to snippets of conversations as the narrator remembers them. It is also a reminder of the artifices of fiction…Last Words is not just an epistolary novel but a collage in progress. It is the narrator trying to make us understand her own waxing and waning passions for various women and for her art, all while being honest about the fact that these ‘letters’ were deliberately written and organized to make the reader feel prolonged distress or flashes of joy.” — Shan Wang, Harvard Review
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About the Author
Qiu Miaojin (1969–1995)—one of Taiwan’s most innovative literary modernists, and the country’s most renowned lesbian writer—was born in Chuanghua County in western Taiwan. She graduated with a degree in psychology from National Taiwan University and pursued graduate studies in clinical psychology at the University of Paris VIII . Her first published story, “Prisoner,” received the Central Daily News Short Story Prize, and her novella Lonely Crowds won the United Literature Association Award. While in Paris, she directed a thirty-minute film called Ghost Carnival, and not long after this, at the age of twenty-six, she committed suicide. The posthumous publications of her novels Last Words from Montmartre and Notes of a Crocodile (forthcoming from NYRB Classics) made her into one of the most revered countercultural icons in Chinese letters. After her death in 1995, she was given the China Times Honorary Prize for Literature. In 2007, a two-volume edition of her Diaries was published.Ari Larissa Heinrich received a master’s in Chinese literature from Harvard and a PhD in Chinese studies from the University of California at Berkeley. Heinrich and Qiu—who would have been the same age if Qiu were still alive—crossed paths without knowing each other in Taipei and in Paris. He is the author of The Afterlife of Images: Translating the Pathological Body Between China and the West and the coeditor of Queer Sinophone Cultures. He teaches at the University of California at San Diego.
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Product details
Series: New York Review Books Classics
Paperback: 176 pages
Publisher: NYRB Classics; Main edition (June 3, 2014)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1590177258
ISBN-13: 978-1590177259
Product Dimensions:
5 x 0.4 x 8 inches
Shipping Weight: 8 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
Average Customer Review:
4.4 out of 5 stars
9 customer reviews
Amazon Best Sellers Rank:
#757,560 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
This is a surprising novel. I felt like talking with the writer. It has influence from Cortazar / carta a una señorita en ParÃs/ and her writing style kept me interested at all times.Why is this novel in the shadows while Niebla is well known in Latin America?I will look for her other writings!
Definitely an interesting book. The notes on the back are quite accurate and will give you a good sense if this is something that you would be interested in. My short visceral response to this book is: "Was it insane because it was so intense or was it intense because it was so insane". Please don't take "insane" literally.
A brilliant and sad work of fiction that really turned out to be your basic, passive aggressive suicide letter. I hated reading this as I felt like I was encouraging the author's suicide as it was so very apparent that she was in so much pain, but as document in regard to psychology, queer representation and or literature I loved some of it but still felt this great guilt in reading this book.
Great book (or horrible book) for the lesbianic love sick. Also make sure to read the afterward.
-- "Oh... if one were to call this book an unintelligible collection of hieroglyphics with no words and a plot that had long since disappeared, one would be right."Imagine you are in a booth of a restaurant, or perhaps on a train. From behind, you hear a woman talking. Either her companion does not reply, or you don't catch what is said. It is not always easy to understand the main speaker either; there is a lot of talk about love, perhaps love between women, though different partners are mentioned. As most of the proper names are Chinese, you are not sure of the genders. But the speaker is clearly in distress; there are even hints of suicide. Should you intervene? But then the tone changes. You are no longer sure that the speaker is a woman after all. The setting of what s/he is describing is no longer Paris, but Tokyo, or is it Taipei? Several of the same names crop up again. Gradually you guess at a story: a passionate affair, betrayals, separation, reunion, determination, pain.-- "If this book should be published, readers can begin anywhere. The only connection between the chapters is the time frame in which they were written."I admit to buying this solely on account of this unusual challenge (and because I trust NYRB books). There are twenty "letters" in this epistolary novella, although not all of them are in letter form. The book keeps them in more or less numerical order, although Letter Five comes just before Letter Eleven and there is an additional Letter Seventeen, coming after Letter Ten. I used the randomizing function on my computer, and printed out the resultant order to use as a bookmark: 19, 5, 1, 8, and so on. The result was like no other reading experience I have ever had: reading as a matter of immersion rather than following a thread, getting to know the narrator from the inside before I had the slightest idea of her biographical facts. If it does not sound sexist to say so, I would call it a profoundly feminine way of reading, rather than my normal let's-get-on-with-it masculine one.-- "For dead little Bunny / and / Myself, soon dead." Qiu's dedication.Weeks after completing this manuscript, the author, twenty-six-year-old Qiu Miaojin kills herself. Among other things, this novella is her suicide note, turning her death into an artistic statement rather than an act of despair. Already celebrated as a writer in her native Taiwan (especially among feminist and lesbian circles), she has gone to Paris to join the women's studies program run by novelist Hélène Cixous; the book is laced with references to other feminist writers such as Marguerite Yourcenar and Clarice Lispector. And this being Paris, she embraces cinema as high art, following especially the films of Theodoros Angelopoulos and Andrei Tarkovsky. But her main dealings are the interpersonal ones, and most of her writing is about love: love lost, love turned to despair, love persisting against all odds, and just occasionally love at the height of sexual passion. I can't say I enjoyed these passages of self-analysis, which can get quite turgid; I don't know whether to put this down to the translator, Ari Larissa Heinrich, or to the author's own confessional earnestness. All in all, it was a book I enjoyed in concept more than while actually reading.-- "What I desire is the full profundity of eros in my life, the 'eternal'."The eternal takes no account of normal time. Would I have fared better if I had read the chapters in their printed order? I don't think so. About halfway through my reading, I came upon an extraordinary passage of normal exposition, in which the writer lays out her movements and partners in chronological order, with names and places and dates. It explained a lot. But this comes in Letter Fourteen! It is not until quite late that we learn who or what "dead little Bunny" is. And I was able to go for most of the book delightfully perplexed that the narrator (who is never named) occasionally seems to refer to herself as "Zoë" -- but this "Zoë" seems to be female at one moment and male the next! The one chapter that goes any way towards explaining this (and then not completely) is Letter Six -- which is the one I happened to read last, making a neat but entirely accidental "Aha!" ending.-- "As she tested the boundaries between fiction, literary autobiography, and lived practice, the line between life and art grew increasingly indistinguishable for Qiu."This last quotation is from Heinrich's helpful afterword. I am struck by his phrase "lived practice" and its implication that the book in our hands is no more than half Qiu's artistic statement. It may not make for easy reading, but it is a unique product of literary art.
The sleeve of sets the tone, “When the pioneering Taiwanese novelist Qiu Miaojin committed suicide in 1995 at age twenty-six, she left behind her unpublished masterpiece, Last Words from Montmartre.†As I wrote in my review of Eduoard Leve’s “Suicideâ€, a work he delivered to his publisher ten days before taking his own life:There is no escaping the fact that this fictional work’s subject matter and Leve’s own suicide lurks large as you read through the work. Although it is meant to be an homage to the narrator’s friend who had committed suicide twenty years earlier you cannot help to be constantly drawn to the tale of Leve’s own death at his own hands less than two weeks after he delivered to manuscript to his editor.It is a very similar story with Qiu Miaojin’s work, as our translator, Ari Larissa Heinrich, eloquently says in her afterword:Knowing that an author writing about suicide has in fact committed suicide naturally complicates the reading of any book. If nothing else, it suggests that no matter what the author’s claims may be to artifice or character development, there is a degree of “realism†or autobiography to be accounted for that differs from the range of what usually may be called the “semiautobiographicalâ€.In other words, I’m approaching the last words with a predetermined thought pattern. And one cannot underestimate the powerfulness of this work.For my full review go to http://messybooker.blogspot.com.au/2015/06/last-words-from-montmartre-qiu-miaojin.html
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