Drahá M.,
chatbot se mě dneska ptal na kliku dveří činžáku, kde jsme vyrůstali. V redakci na poradě jsem potřeboval rychle vymyslet téma pro text do příštího čísla a tak jsem ohlásil, že vyzkouším umělou inteligeci jako terpeuta a pak o tom napíšu. A teď to mám.
Sveikas, nepažįstamas mieste,
Kaip paaiškinti tau, kur aš gyvenu?
Už lėtos geležies, šiapus viaduko, slidžioje seno palto kišenėje.
Gyvenu vietoje, kur tirštai sukoncentruoti visi žmogaus likimo variantai ir galimos jo gyvenimo kryptys. Gyvenu tarp cerkvės, buvusio kalėjimo, pabėgėlių stovyklos, gimdymo namų ir trijų kapinių.
Benvolguts amics desconeguts de Nottingham,
Us havia d’escrirure des del bar del meu barri a Barcelona i resulta que soc en una cafeteria de Madrid. Últimament les coses estan poc previsibles. El meu pla era imbatible: dissabte al vespre tornava de Madrid i diumenge em llevava amb tota la parsimònia del món.
Дорогі читачі та читачки з Нотінгема!
Мене звати Оксана Данчук, я драматургиня в театрі Лесі у Львові. Зараз команда нашого театру перебуває у відпустці і я вирішила, що це чудовий час, аби написати листа до вас, отримавши таку пропозицію від колег з Нотінгема.
Draga Olivia,
Drage bralke in dragi bralci, ki boste to pismo lahko prebrali_e zaradi Olivinega prevoda!
Draga Olivia, ali v angliščini obstaja beseda za »črtalnik«? Te besede že vsaj trideset let nisem uporabila v nobenem jeziku, pa vendar sem ob prvi povedi tega pisma pomislila: »Moj bog, če bi vsaj imela črtalnik!«
Laura and Irene both speak of their personal relationship with letter writing. Laura is apt to send letters to whoever on her Facebook friends list wants one, while Irene sends long digital letters in the form of emails to a friend in New York. In a beautiful analogy, Laura then compares letter writing to kintsugi.
Cities, like letters, are layered; they’re contradictory and defined by presence and absence working simultaneously. Marius Burokas’ Vilnius-inspired letter serves as a reminder that both cities and the self remain open – they’re unfixed and contain the ability to be superimposed, but yet never erased.
The myth of Robin Hood has travelled far beyond its own home forest. Outside Prague’s main train station lies Vrchlického Sady, known by locals as Sherwood. This urban park doesn’t hold the legendary history of heroism that permeates Nottingham’s popular forest, but rather incorporates through literature the darker aspects of Prague’s culture.
In this day and age, writing morally calls for recognising that every sentence is written inside a burning house. To write anyway is not an act of purity but an act of responsibility. It is not putting out the fire, but bearing witness to its heat, its smoke, and the people trapped inside.
Today, we discuss pseudonyms, the forces that shape our reading habits, the debate over separating art from artist, and the Ukrainian letter-writer who believes that ‘some nations, if they read more books from other nations, would feel less inclined to attack their neighbours with rockets.’
theletters.page 