Literary fame is a knotty thing. It’s hard to predict exactly who will be known for centuries, and why. William Wordsworth, for example, owes at least part of his fame to the Lake District, which started to use him in their tourist campaigns not long after his death. In The New Yorker, Joshua Rothman takes a look at H.J. Jackson’s Those Who Write for Immortality. Related: Gina Fattore’s recent essay on fame and money.
If news of László Krasznahorkai winning his second straight Best Translated Book Award for his recent novella, Seiobo There Below, got you interested in reading the Hungarian author’s works, then look no further. Scott Esposito offers a handy road map entitled “Krasznahorkai: A Guide for the Perplexed and Fascinated.”
Recommended Reading: This beautiful essay from The Rumpus on the ambivalence of Jewishness and a whole lot more nuance than this Curiosity can communicate. Here’s an essay by Gabriel Brownstein from The Millions on what it means to be labeled as a Jewish writer.