The above quote comes from Danish writer Inger Christensen, and the game she considers tragic is literature.
When Christensen died earlier this year, the New York Times called her “Denmark’s most eminent poet” and a perennial Nobel contender. We’re excerpting Christensen’s novel Azorno in our forthcoming anthology, and in her translator’s introduction Denise Newman draws on Christensen’s quote, writing:
Her approach to form was in keeping with her conviction that literature is “a game, maybe even a tragic game—the game we play with a world that plays its own game with us.” In Azorno, she magnified the game of fiction, with her narrative strategy of a novel within a novel within a novel.
Azorno resembles a house of mirrors. Images and passages recur with slight variations. The setting shifts between Copenhagen, Zurich, and Paris; points of view also shift, leaving the reader to puzzle out which of the characters is speaking. There are five women and two men. One man is a writer named Sampel, the other is Azorno, the main character of his novel. All the women are pregnant by Sampel. Some know each other, and they meet and write letters that comprise their novel about five women and a man named Sampel, who sometimes calls himself Azorno, and who is also writing a novel that may include one or more of the women.
This must be one of my favorite excerpts in Wherever I Lie Is Your Bed, and I’m looking forward to reading the entire book. Azorno has been just published by New Directions, and those interested in learning more can read these two reviews.