Recent novels by Jennifer Croft and Kate Briggs amp up the role of the literary translator precisely in a the moment when the machines take over. Is this a last hurrah of a heroic yet notoriously invisible profession – or does it betray an ignorance of what translators are actually doing?

«I dreaded encountering what I already knew: that I was more likely than white women or non-Black women of color to deliver a child prematurely, more likely to die from childbirth, and more likely to have my pain ignored by the medical professionals tasked with keeping me safe.»

The novel has been pillaged for a long while now. After a decade of memoirs and essays, it seemed that literary imagination had died at the hands of autofiction. With recent books by Hernan Diaz, Benjamin Labatut and Catherine Lacey, the novel strikes back – and starts stealing from nonfiction.

Germany takes pride in its memory culture. But its often self-congratulatory remembrance rituals have many blind spots. One of them is the network of international solidarity that the GDR was part of. Echos of the Brother Countries, an exhibition at HKW Berlin, allows for a closer look.

Kids these days flock to raves as if they were the latest incarnation of transcendence, but what about the political economy that squeezes profit out of every last pocket of subculture? McKenzie Wark and Hannah Baer on raving during a pandemic, late in life, and its ambivalent politics.

Letters are not quite a thing of the past; as a literary device they’re perfectly alive to open some doors and keep others shut. In current works by Adam Thirlwell, Ridley Scott and Maïwenn, letters trigger different yet eerily similar gendered fantasies about who is entrusted to write them and why.