Library
Browse, sort, shuffle, scramble.
Subscribers have full access to the expanding library of the European Review of Books.
Subscribers have full access to the expanding library of the European Review of Books.
Type
✕
Essays
From the editors
Interviews
Pearls
Reviews
Stories
Clear filters
Ok
Topic
✕
Architecture
Art
Economics
Europe
Excerpt
Fiction
Film
History
Literature
Memoir
Philosophy
Photography
Poetry
Politics
Technology
Clear filters
Ok
Motif
✕
Alcohol
America
Ancestry
Animals
Apotheosis
Archeology
Bad art
Bad writing
Berlin
Big Tech
Borders
Brazil
Brooklyn
Brussels
Cars
Celebrity
Cement
Cemetery
Childhood
Dante
Death
Design
Devil
Diary
Dichter und Denker
Divinity
Dreams
EU
Editing
Empire
Enlightenment
Environment
Epistles
Etymology
Fascism
Fashion
Father
Faulkner
Fetishes
Flags
Flâneur
Food
Forgetting
Found art
Freud
Frontiers
Furniture
Genocide
George Orwell
Gibberish
Gift
Good art
Gossip
Gulag
Helicopter
Influencers
Insults
Into the void
Islands
Jane Austen
Journalism
Kafka
Keywords
Kidnapping
Language
Law
Literary Criticism
Love
Magazines
Manners
Maps
Marriage
Marx
Max Weber
Memory
Mining
Modernism
Modernity
Monarchy
Money
Mother
Mountains
Music
Mythology
Noise
Pandemic
Paranormality
Paris
Phobias
Poetry
Post-industrial
Prague
Prison
Psychology
Race
Reading
Relics
Revolution
Robot
Russia
Sea
Siberia
Slavery
Smoking
Snow
Space
Sports
Statue
Surzhyk
Syria
Teenager
Tinder
To [X] is to [Y]
Tourism
Trains
Travel
Ukraine
Underpants
Utopia
Vertigo
Vibe
Virginia Woolf
Vomit
Walter Benjamin
War
Writing
Clear filters
Ok
Language
✕
Arabic
Dansk
Deutsch
English
Español
Italiano
Nederlands
Türkçe
Valencià
Українська
русский
中文
한국어
Clear filters
Ok
Issue
✕
Issue Four
Issue One
Issue Three
Issue Two
Issue Zero – Opuscule
Clear filters
Ok
12
Articles
All Topics
Alcohol
All languages
Visit the extractocene!
The Eisenthür silver mine is real; the village below is entirely fictive.
A sangre fría
Fernanda Melchor’s prose hits you square in the face, but its lyricism works differently in Spanish. On Veracruzano modernism, lyrical slang, and worlds so new that style falls apart.
Cheers!
A photograph found in Rome’s Porta Portese. The recumbent can also raise a glass.
Flags & bones
On Curzio Malaparte’s Europe — and ours. The midcentury novelist read anew, on war’s aftermath and transatlantic romance. What was, or is, « postwar Europe », anyway?
Vlaggen & botten
Over het Europa van Curzio Malaparte – en het onze. Een nieuwe lezing van het oeuvre van de schrijver, over de nasleep van oorlog en een transatlantische romance. Wat is dit « naoorlogse Europa » eigenlijk?
Marx and the art of natural winemaking
The grapes are tiny, burnt to a crisp. It’s day two of the harvest, in late August — freakishly early in a year of drought and heat waves. What is wine?
Skinned alive
Imagine your therapist assigned you to write your autobiography, after which you decided you were cured, so your therapist published it as revenge. Zeno’s Conscience turns 99.
The Ogre, the Monk and the Maiden
A story about quarks and antiquarks, beauty quarks and strangelets, gluons, muons, prions, hadrons and charms.
Planes, tanks & automobiles
You could tell the US army had arrived because the local garages had sold out of whiskey. Old maps, new wars & vanishing memories along the Polish-Ukrainian border.
How Americans edit sex out of my writing
What is editing? Two people who both lead a literary life — an augmented reality where the connections between existence and sentences are investigated daily — wage sensual war for the soul of the page.
Animal Anti-Cities
« A black cat sneaks across a flower bed toward a shed, past some asters, and squeezes into a gap an arm's width wide. Some worn-down club-goers lay wasted on sofas, sweat and smoke in a late-summer landscape. » On Berlin clubs and Calvino's cat flâneurs.
Animalische Anti-Städte
« Eine schwarze Katze huscht über ein Blumenbeet in Richtung eines Holzverschlags, an einigen Astern vorbei drückt sie sich in eine armbreite Lücke. Einige Abgefeierte lümmeln auf Sofas; in Schweiß und Rauch in dieser spätsommerlichen Club-Landschaft. » Über Berliner Clubs und Calvinos Katzenflaneure.
Ballad of a Homburg hat
On racial metonymy and the art of misidentification. (Meanwhile: has a glass of beer ever been more crisply and deliciously depicted? Has the froth of a European pilsner ever looked so delectable?)
It wasn’t the beer
How could it be that despite decades of rigorous European unification, of open borders and largely adjusted standards of living, a virus was able to kill up to 40 times more people in one country than in another, only a few hundred kilometers away?
Es war nicht das Bier
Wie konnte es sein, dass trotz jahrzehntelanger rigoroser europäischer Einigung, offener Grenzen und weitgehend angeglichener Lebensstandards ein Virus in einem Land bis zu 40 Mal mehr Menschen töten konnte als in einem anderen, nur wenige hundert Kilometer entfernt?
