The world of contemporary fiction lost one of its brightest luminaries with the passing of W.G. Sebald in 2001. I've been thinking of Sebald of late - partly because I've been troubled by the quality of the prose which have been published, well, since his death. Here's to a real author - one who understood the importance of the intersections between fiction and history, between memory and identity. Austerlitz, The Rings of Saturn, The Emigrants: these are - without a doubt - canonical works.
Gone, but not forgotten
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