Yoko Tawada

by on Dec.19, 2011

In my best of list in the post below, I forgot to mention Yoko Tawada’s amazing reading in Notre Dame. To make up for it, here’s the beginning of her story/fable/surrealist prose poem, “Raisin Eyes”:

“On Tuesdays I like to eat my father. He tastes of venison. Bread dough is what he’s made of. I know he’s really a woman. But you can’t say this to his face or his ees will turn hollow. When the fire is hot and the sun goes down, his dead brother whispers in his ear: you’re a woman. He’s made of bread dough. His nipples are raisins. The eyes of a woman he went to see in prison yesterday were also raisins. My father has black nipples…”

(From the book Where Europe Begins, trans. Susan Bernofsky and Yumi Selden)

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