Fiction

Starting from the trivial or rooted into fantasy, the poems and short stories collected in “Learning to Count” – Michael Van den Abeele’s second book of this kind – veer into the grotesque or the bizarre, revealing the glitches of a reality that is just waiting to hallucinate. In the eponymous text, “Learning to Count,” Van den Abeele reflects on an iconic photograph of the Ramones, standing against a wall, all dressed in identical jeans. Is this forest of legs ornament, or crime? Do ripped trousers still hold any political significance? What social beliefs make a community?

Marked by anxiety and detachment, the “I” in Van den Abeele’s stories find himself in situations that drift toward unspeakable truths, bittersweet awakenings, or darker insights. Yet Van den Abeele’s prose also tackles the exuberance of Baroque church, or reflects on the ubiquity of burrata on restaurant menus— not to mention the connections between romantic love and making sandwiches.

Often written to be read and performed, Van den Abeele’s texts stand out for the originality of their style, their unique humor, their distinctive sense of detail, and the author’s ability to make unexpected connections between Cézanne and Matrix, Wile E. Coyote and Roland Barthes, or motherhood and landscape gardening

This book is published in conjunction with Michael Van den Abeele’s exhibition Ouija at CRAC Alsace (Fall–Winter 2026/2027) and is also available in French.

Co-published with CRAC Alsace

The second volume of the sdvig series, dedicated to translingual avant-garde writing, brings together the writings of the Ukrainian modernist poet Maik Yohansen from the 1920s and 1930s, translated into English.

Maik Yohansen was a witty and innovative modernist writer in 1920s Ukraine. This small selection of his work includes How to Write Short Stories, a whimsical guide to the art of short-story writing, informed by Formalist and Marxist criticism the author can't help lampooning. It also includes Shop Signs in Kharkiv, a short and irreverent essay on language politics in Soviet Ukraine a decade after the fall of the Russian Empire. And it includes an autobiography and a selection of Yohansen's masterful poetry in the original and translation.
Everything that Yohansen did—whether fiction, or cultural criticism, or linguistics, or screenwriting, or even autobiographical sketches—he did as a poet, listening to and playing with language. He dedicated his life to achieving equality for Ukrainian as a medium for world literature. In 1937 Maik Yohansen was shot on trumped-up terrorism charges in the mass purge of authors whom Ukrainians now call "the Executed Renaissance."
Translated by poet Eugene Ostashevsky, Yohansen's writings are introduced by Galina Babak, scholar of Ukrainian Formalism.

Maik Yohansen (1895–1937) was an Ukrainian modernist writer, poet, playwright, translator, critic and linguist. He was one of the founders of the literary union VAPLITE (Vilna Akademia Proletarskoi Literatury).

Ettie Stettheimer bares all in Love Days, inviting us into the Stettheimer family’s salon of avant-garde artists. Meet Ettie’s alter ego, Susanna Moore, a ravishing Greek scholar. Susanna has no trouble deciphering arcane texts, but when it comes to matters of the heart, she’s lost in translation. Her desire for love, knowledge, and the company of great artists takes her from New York to Berlin to Capri to Paris. She can only run from herself for so long. . . .

Henrietta “Ettie” Stettheimer (1875-1955) was a writer and one of the “Stetties,” a trio of artistic sisters who lived between Europe and New York in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. With Carrie, the architect of an elaborate dollhouse, and Florine, a painter whose iconoclastic canvases have made their way into the modernist canon, Ettie hosted a salon frequented by the day’s avant garde. In a time when it was still unusual for women to pursue higher education, Ettie graduated from Barnard College in 1896, received a master’s degree at Columbia in 1898, and earned her Ph.D. in philosophy at the University of Freiburg in 1908. Ettie published two novels, Philosophy: An Autobiographical Fragment and Love Days, under the pseudonym “Henrie Waste.”

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps paints a tragic portrait of Avis, a would-be artist whose promising career is subsumed by the obligations of marital life. Against the backdrop of the Civil War, Avis battles her conflicting desires: life with the man she loves or the pursuit of artistic greatness. Ultimately, instead of paints and palettes, Avis fills her days with thoughts of doilies and daycare. Following Avis’s struggles to balance her passion with her duties, Phelps proves that artistic ambition is not extinguished by love, but slowly eroded by the constraints of nineteenth-century womanhood.

Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward (1844-1911) was an incorrigible reformer, advocating at various points for dress reform, feminism, social reform, temperance, and an end to the practice of vivisection. In 1874, she penned a rousing call for women to burn their corsets, anticipating the bra-burning feminists of the following century. Her writing career began at 19, when she published a short story about the Civil War titled “A Sacrifice Consumed” in Harper’s Magazine. During her lifetime, she authored 57 volumes of fiction, poetry, and essays. She is perhaps best remembered for the trilogy of Spiritualist novels that she published in the wake of the Civil War—the first of which, The Gates Ajar, had sold 180,000 copies in the US and England by 1900.

Newly reprinted, Chubz: The Demonization of my Working Arse utilises Huw Lemmey's caustic wit to drive politics and fanfiction to the smutty edge.

YOUTH RAGE! YOUTH VIOLENCE! YOUTH ORGASMS! FEAR OF A GAY UNDERCLASS – ARMED – DANGEROUS — SICK FUCKS. Andy ‘Chubz’ Wilson is just another NEET on the street, spending his summer days sucking dick and chilling in the park, one hand on his touchscreen, the other down his pants. That is, until he meets charming left-wing journalist and cute crypto-twink Owen whilst trawling Grindr for sex. But what starts as a quick, breathless hookup ends up changing Chubz — and London — forever. Whilst Owen battles poppers-mad PM Nigel ‘Nige’ Farage, our cock-hungry comrade wages his own 'ass war', and is left wondering: just what exactly is it he’s fighting for? Socialism? Barbarism? Or just cheap kicks?

‘It’s smut, but it’s not just smut…If you watch the news after reading Chubz, it’s hard not to wonder about the secret desires that lurk behind the eyes of David Cameron or Ed Miliband. Hard not to see sex—and power, which always follows hotly on its heels—lurking in every interaction. It provides an easy way of asking: how might those in power be lying to us? What might they be concealing?’
— James Butler, VICE

Huw Lemmey (b. 1986) a.k.a. Spitzenprodukte, is a novelist, artist and critic living in Barcelona. He is the author of four books, including Bad Gays: A Homosexual History and Unknown Language, and his debut film, Ungentle, was released in 2022. He writes the regular essay series “Utopian Drivel” at huw.substack.com, and writes on sex, culture, history and cities for numerous magazines and journals including the London Review of Books, Frieze, New York Review of Architecture, Tribune and Architectural Review.

A dirty lil tale written and translated by Amalia Ulman in which a woman gets a job in El Cobrador del Frac, thanks to the gender equality policy executed by the government to diversify the workforce. This seemingly fair opportunity quickly devolves into a comical display of function-like men, working for a Spanish company with extensive experience in the collection of unpaid debts, also notorious for its scams. Every book contains a bootlegged business card as a proof of her position.

Amalia Ulman is an artist and filmmaker based in New York. Her first film, El Planeta, premiered at Sundance 2021 and was selected for the opening night at MoMA's New Directors/New Films the same year.

Newly reprinted, Huw Lemmey's caustic wit drives fanfiction to the edge in the smutty political satires, Red Tory: My Corbyn Chemsex Hell and its predecessor Chubz: The Demonization of my Working Arse.

Tom Buckle is an ambitious young moderate Labour apparatchik, rising happily through the party bureaucracy on a diet of bottomless brunches, legitimate concerns and drug-fueled Blairite sex parties. That is until he meets Otto, a charismatic young radical whose urge for cocks, communism, and a mysterious plot for the victory of the holetariat opens his eyes to a changing world. Finding himself thrown into a chaotic new political landscape of pigfucking PMs, frog-frenzied neonazis and falafel-throwing communists, Tom has to pick a side. Will he manage to find a third way to a safe seat, or will Corbyn’s terrifying red horde make his moderate mission impossible? And can Tom resist the most seductive of all highs — pure, high-grade socialism, main-lined straight into London’s clogged and throbbing veins?

So much for a kinder, gentler form of politics!

‘Gifted both with a vivid erotic imagination and sharp political insight, Huw Lemmey has created a satire adequate to the bleak fears and wild hopes birthed by our times. This novel is a sweet love story, an acidic political parody and a bell tolling for centrism, a multisensory post-Brexit romance radiating wild communist dreams.’
— Hannah Black

Huw Lemmey (b. 1986) a.k.a. Spitzenprodukte, is a novelist, artist and critic living in Barcelona. He is the author of four books, including Bad Gays: A Homosexual History and Unknown Language, and his debut film, Ungentle, was released in 2022. He writes the regular essay series “Utopian Drivel” at huw.substack.com, and writes on sex, culture, history and cities for numerous magazines and journals including the London Review of Books, Frieze, New York Review of Architecture, Tribune and Architectural Review.

This book is a novella filled with the pastiche of Americana and ending in the end of it. Breaking out every now and then. 24 hours in Los Angeles in minute details by two writers that have never been to the USA, but watched enough movies to dream of it. "If ever someone knew how to write sunsets, soft drinks in softer colors and the epic beauty of catastrophe." "A tour de force through screen-shots from Hollywood classics turned European teenage fan fiction of American dreams."

Cover by Robert Hawkins.

Kayfabe is a visceral and haunting study of identity, performance, and the blurred lines between reality and fiction. Through the lens of professional wrestling—where personas are constructed, rivalries scripted, and pain both real and staged—Sam Moore crafts a sprawling, hypnotic narrative about power, devotion, and the stories we tell to survive.

Set within the brutal world of The Syndicate, an underground wrestling promotion that thrives on spectacle and control, the novel follows Samson, a veteran once seen as unbeatable, whose mythos is beginning to unravel. In a sport where winning and losing are preordained, Samson defies the script, threatening the delicate balance that keeps The Syndicate alive. As rivalries intensify and new stars are made—each vying for their place in a system built on spectacle and sacrifice—the machinations of The Boss, an ominous figure who guides The Syndicate with an iron fist threaten to change the promotion, and everyone in it, forever.

Themes of masculinity, myth-making, and bodily endurance course through Kayfabe, as Moore exposes the hidden cost of maintaining an illusion. With language that moves between poetic introspection and the raw brutality of the ring, Kayfabe captures the inescapable tension between spectacle and self—where every victory comes at a price, and every persona is a prison.

Nate Lippens, author of the acclaimed novels My Dead Book, a finalist for the Republic of Consciousness Prize, and Ripcord, a New Statesman Book of the Year, completes his Wisconsin trilogy with Bastards, a book of losses, memories and survival.

A full-on breakdown, wouldn’t that be fabulously dramatic? Instead, I ended up in green gripper socks, sweatpants, and a T-shirt, a look like a California cult member or a suburban schlub (same thing) on a seventy-two-hour hold—a crack-up fortnight—until I started acting like myself. Well, not myself, because how would they know who that is? A facsimile of normal. I mimed coherence, the continuity of a person moving from room to room. I performed my sadness convincingly, pimped memories of Rudy, flensed my crazy down to thimbles of death, an understandable loss.

You win. I say it all the time to people. You win. You won. You’re the winner. Congratulations. I said it when a boyfriend told me he didn’t love me. I said it on the ward. I said it when I got evicted. You win. Good for you.

Recently sprung from a stint on a psychiatric ward, the narrator of Bastards works hard to perform at being a person while questioning the concept of identity and what it means to be an aging working-class gay man when the word queer has become so elastic and gentrified it’s used to conservative ends. Struggling to survive, pay rent, and navigate a hostile world, he takes solace in art and his friends and measures what makes a life.

Borrowing from the tropes of fragmented lyric essays, New Narrative, autofiction, and transgressive literature, Lippens is a bricoleur who creates a confected new form in his short novels. Queer pessimism in the age of affirmation. A search for something honest. An old queen’s cackle.

“What a gift to encounter such intelligent homosexuality!” Robert Glück

“His bracing novels represent an honest reckoning with the post-AIDS era and its effect on life and imagination.” The Nation

Doro knows no higher authority than himself. An ancient spirit with boundless powers, he possesses humans, killing without remorse as he jumps from body to body to sustain his own life. With a lonely eternity ahead of him, Doro breeds supernaturally gifted humans into empires that obey his every desire. He fears no one—until he meets Anyanwu.

Anyanwu is an entity like Doro and yet different. She can heal with a bite and transform her own body, mending injuries and reversing aging. She uses her powers to cure her neighbors and birth entire tribes, surrounding herself with kindred who both fear and respect her. No one poses a true threat to Anyanwu—until she meets Doro.

The moment Doro meets Anyanwu, he covets her; and from the villages of 17th-century Nigeria to 19th-century United States, their courtship becomes a power struggle that echoes through generations, irrevocably changing what it means to be human.

THE HOLE. AN INSURRECTIONARY POETICS by Katharina Ludwig was recently published by MA BIBLIOTHÈQUE. In parallel/in interruption with this book are three opuscules—The Oracle of Lips, The Oracle of Tongue, and The Oracle of Teeth.

“At the limits of language, a hole opens and voices meet, channelled from the abyss through temporalities and histories. Jacques Lacan analyses the wounded text; Hélène Cixous whispers to anarchist poet Katerina Gogou; theorist Carla Lonzi, artist Chiara Fumai, and her army of women dissidents invade the symbolic realm of father, state, law, and religion. A canon of disorderly voices from philosophy, psychoanalysis, poetry, and fictional characters converse, connected by the appearance of K. The Hole is an epistolary work written in multiple forms, approaching the unsayable in a jouissant textual body, considering broken narratives and minor literatures through an investigation of (textual) holes, wounds (trauma), and the mouth (voice/language). Poetry operates as strategy of resistance and revolt, against systemic power structures and against closure. Wounds must stay open to speak.”

3x zines, Varying sizes, Hand sewn

‘Bodywork for the hybrid body of an institution’ traces the visible and invisible dynamics within self-organized spaces. This publication is not guided by instructions, but offers glimpses into shimmering moments of dissent, togetherness and re-doing the anatomy of institution by including its entangled ecologies. It is an invitation into the visceral sensation of bodywork through the very act of reading.

Set in the post-martial-law era of late-1980s Taipei, Notes of a Crocodile is a coming-of-age story of queer misfits discovering love, friendship, and artistic affinity while hardly studying at Taiwan’s most prestigious university. Told through the eyes of an anonymous lesbian narrator nicknamed Lazi, this cult classic is a postmodern pastiche of diaries, vignettes, mash notes, aphorisms, exegesis, and satire by an incisive prose stylist and major countercultural figure.

Afflicted by her fatalistic attraction to Shui Ling, an older woman, Lazi turns for support to a circle of friends that includes a rich kid turned criminal and his troubled, self-destructive gay lover, as well as a bored, mischievous overachiever and her alluring slacker artist girlfriend.

Illustrating a process of liberation from the strictures of gender through radical self-inquiry, Notes of a Crocodile is a poignant masterpiece of social defiance by a singular voice in contemporary Chinese literature.

Winner of the 2018 Lucien Stryk Asian Translation Prize.

Inner Tube is a darkly comic, hallucinatory novel about one man’s descent through grief, cultural detritus, and the electromagnetic haze of late 20th century America. After his mother kills herself by ramming her head through the family television, the narrator quits his job cataloging old TV shows and embarks on a surreal, unmoored journey westward. Through a landscape of rundown motels, desert isolation, and fleeting encounters, he strips away the trappings of civilization, regressing into a feral, posthuman state. The book is both a savage critique of media-saturated culture and a philosophical meditation on alienation and survival, written with poetic precision and biting wit.

Inner Tube was completed under extraordinary circumstances. After undergoing spinal surgery that left him paralyzed from the neck down, Hob Broun wrote the novel using a breath-activated computer system—a device that converted puffs of air into keystrokes. He finished the book just before his untimely death in 1987 at the age of 37.

First published by Alfred A. Knopf in 1985, and reprinted in 1987 by McGraw-Hill, Inner Tube has been out of print ever since.

Ötza is a 5300-year-old cryodesiccated fan fiction writer from the Neolithic, an advocate for prehistoric literacy and a self-proclaimed connoisseur of post-historical theory-fiction. Locked in a cooling cell at the South Tyrol Museum of Archaeology in Bolzano, Italy, her writings are hopeful yearnings for counterfactual salvation from her fate of archaeological conservation, and an attempt to rewrite the narrative (unfairly) extrapolated from scientific reconstructions.

Ötza is written and performed by artist Levi van Gelder, and created in collaboration with costume designer and stylist Leila El Alaoui.

Edited by Maia Kenney, Aidan Hoyle, Anthony Stephinson

It is 1974. American and English expatriates, artists, writers, and eccentrics find their home in a quiet town on the island of Crete. Among them is Horace Vaughn, a sixty-five-year-old gay American writer who has long been at work on Household Gods, his attempt at the Great American Novel, and who in the meantime supports himself by dashing off detective stories.

Horace’s young Greek lover often annoys him, provides little satisfaction, and Horace idles his time away with alcohol, friends, and machinations. That is, until a young, enigmatic nineteen-year-old American woman named Helen arrives, another outsider. In Helen, Horace discovers someone brilliant, beautiful, and stubbornly mysterious. He is fascinated by her punk style and elusive pose. In this small town, gossip spreads fast, and Helen’s past begins to follow her to Crete: a suicidal ex-lover appears without warning, and there are whispers of her long-dead sister. The Henry Moore crowd dislike her, and a Greek waiter’s wife threatens to murder her.

When Helen vanishes, Horace is determined to follow her, to find her, especially her diary. His journey around Crete in his beat-up VW bug is funny and poignant, and for Horace, the mystery continues.

I am still transitioning, but I am unsure into what.

Who are all these Evas? They puncture and disrupt the domestic space and equilibrium of the narrator, who alternately relies upon them or administers their care. Foam is the latest boundary-blurring, genre-resistant, strange and speculative new fiction from Kate Zambreno, the inimitable and relentless literary stylist and conceptualist. Inspired by the absurdities of Eva Hesse and other soft sculpture, these are speculative art essays and textures, a document of precarity and slippery time—mischievous, moody, estranged—a masterwork of tone and atmosphere.

Told through contradicting, unreliable narrators and almost entirely in dialogue, Seyed Qader Hedayati's GABOR fuses the experimentation of George Saunders with the absurdist satire of Joseph Heller to deliver a seldom explored portrait of friendship and boyhood under the anarchy of occupation.

In a Kurdish village under military occupation, a group of boys scrape together their savings and buy a hand-stitched football to prove they aren't losers to the other kids. When it lands inside the opposing military base, Karim sneaks in and takes it back—only for the soldiers to burn the neighborhood to the ground looking for it. Streets are bombed, homes are raided, snipers take aim at pedestrians, residents are dragged off and imprisoned. As the casualty rate skyrockets, Karim and his friends retaliate by firing junkyard scraps from their slingshots while raging bulls escape slaughterhouses to stampede into warfare.

The love child of The L Word and Brontez Purnell’s 100 Boyfriends, with a disaffected flair all its own.

It’s San Francisco in the early aughts, and Howie Song is floundering. His failed projects—as a professional ballet dancer, as a boyfriend, as a friend—have left him forever the “third wheel.” But maybe he likes it that way? Leaping wildly between lovers, centuries, and an ever-changing cultural landscape, Howie might just feel most himself in the fracture. 

Delicious, poetic, and delightfully pornographic, Tricyclist is an ode to the “abnormal angles” of people and art. As Howie overcomes his own ambivalences—in large part thanks to two suitors, and a circle of supporters who happen to be lesbians—Joon Oluchi Lee portrays, with his signature flamboyance, all of life’s joys, pitfalls, and pirouettes.

Joon Oluchi Lee is one of my favorite writers. A quick-change artist with a blazing intellect, he startles with his wicked wit and mix of rawness and sophistication. In Tricyclist, vexed, sexed, and indexed types orbit the narrator Howie Song, offering all kinds of distractions and attractions. Identity is a flipbook of possibilities, malleable in a way that excites and also threatens dissolution (which is maybe a relief). Raunch, philosophical asides, and a scavenger hunt for connection and love are all propelled by Lee’s masterful maverick style and brilliant humor. - Nate Lippens

Across lush hangouts with friends and hookups with lovers, Joon Oluchi Lee’s Tricyclist paints shimmering portraits of the most beautiful blouses and bars and bodies laid bare alongside our hopelessly alluring narrator. Through Howie’s careening sex drives and death drives, sensuality is everything, and with Lee’s keen attunement to life’s viscera, Tricyclist aches gorgeously. What a rhapsodic balm to my 2026. - Benedict Nguyễn

Tricyclist is a sex-forward, strikingly original story of queer life in San Francisco that feels so fresh it left my fingers wet. Joon Oluchi Lee’s eye is as sharp as his prose, rendering characters and scenarios with gossipy frankness. Kinetic and true and hyper-alive. - Michelle Tea

La même en pire est un roman d’amour enchâssé dans un roman noir, un huis clos dans lequel les confessions de chacune deviennent le procès des autres. Elles sont toutes coupables, toutes victimes, toutes témoins, toutes innocentes de ce qui est arrivé à Madison. Et qu’est-ce qui est arrivé ?

Madison a disparu, Madison a été assassinée, Madison s’est suicidée. Huit femmes se retrouvent dans un appartement et reviennent sur ce qui les avait rassemblées des années auparavant : une maison délabrée que Madison louait et dans laquelle elle avait installé des caméras pour streamer H24 et monétiser son existence. Elles avaient toutes vécu dans cette maison et avaient toutes fini par la déserter. Sophie la poète mariée au terroriste, Cécile la détective privée, Hilary la bourgeoise militante, Lola l’adolescente tiktokeuse muette, Alexandra l’entrepreneuse, Eva la mauvaise mère, Kamila la mère aimante, et la narratrice.

Préface : Lou-Andréa Benzacar

Unica Zürn dans La maison des maladies raconte, par un ensemble de textes et dessins, un séjour en hôpital où elle est soignée d’une jaunisse. Elle y écrit et compose ce carnet où le regard qu’elle pose sur son propre corps, les lieux qu’elle habite et les personnages qu’elle rencontre, témoigne d’une sensibilité hors-norme qui tire à la fantaisie, voire au délire.

Pour la première fois en France, La maison des maladies est publié intégralement.

Le texte est traduit de l’allemand par Ruth Henry & Robert Valençay. Un après-propos de Mathilde Girard clôture le livre.

Translated from the French, Phototaxis is a fragmentary, darkly-humorous apocalyptic text from a leading young voice from Montréal.

In a city mysteriously overflowing with meat, a museum is bombed, a classical piano player hooked on snuff films throws himself off a building, a charismatic but misled political organizer has disappeared, and a young immigrant navigates a crumbling continent. A dystopic work of hope, Phototaxis dismantles and rebuilds worlds with language at turns surreal, scathingly comic, poetic, and revolutionary.

“Olivia Tapiero’s virtuosic Phototaxis reverses the purgative gesture of necrophoresis: every sentence is shot through with the stench of carrion and the death rattle of capital’s circulation. Reading the text, one feels the vertigo of an interminable fall refracted in an infinity mirror of the commodified image. Tapiero’s haunting lyricism, atmospherically rendered in Kit Schluter’s translation, will ring out in your skull long after reading the book’s final word: music.“
— Jackie Wang

Francis Laurie Schaffer—an artist in her mid-40s—has recently separated from her husband after a two-decade long marriage and has fallen in love with a polyamorous young man who doesn’t fully reciprocate her feelings. In an attempt to express her dissatisfaction, she begins writing about the relationships between the people she imagines belong to her polycule. But things begin to shift into a game of mirrors when Francis meets some of the people she’s written about. A series of events will then culminate with Francis and her friends crashing the 40th birthday party of her husband’s new girlfriend. A disastrous outcome serves as a rite of passage, delivering the protagonists onto the other side of that experience with a transformed sense of self.