Christine burgin series

This jeweled box of a book… float[s], wonderfully, somewhere in a land between short story and criticism.

—Randy Kennedy, The New York Times

A special side of Robert Walser: his essays on art

Looking at Pictures

Nonfiction by Robert Walser

Translated from the German by Susan Bernofsky Lydia Davis Christopher Middleton

An elegant collection, with gorgeous full-color art reproductions, Looking at Pictures presents a little-known aspect of the eccentric Swiss writer’s genius. His essays consider Van Gogh, Manet, Rembrandt, Cranach, Watteau, Fragonard, Bruegel, and his own brother Karl. The pieces also discuss general topics such as the character of the artist and of the dilettante as well as the differences between painters and poets. Each piece is marked by Walser’s unique eye, his delicate sensitivity, and his very particular sensibilities—and all are touched by his magic screwball wit.

Your Independent Bookstore Barnes & Noble

Clothbound (published November 9, 2015)

ISBN
9780811224246
Price US
24.95
Price CN
29.95
Trim Size
4 1/2 x 7
Page Count
128

Robert Walser

Early twentieth-century Swiss novelist

This jeweled box of a book… float[s], wonderfully, somewhere in a land between short story and criticism.

—Randy Kennedy, The New York Times

There is living flight to Walser’s art. His thinking moves shoulder to shoulder with his writing, one rarely outpacing the other. He enacts, rather than presents, his consumption of pictures.

—Esther Yi, Los Angeles Review of Books

He was the most courageous kind of eccentric, daydreaming at some doomed remove from the world yet able to conjure it up in his work, where it attains a warm and puzzling glow.

—Charlie Fox, Frieze

Singular―genius.

—Ben Lerner

Bold and idiosyncratic.

—Lydia Davis

A Paul Klee in prose, a good-humoured, sweet Beckett, Walser is a truly wonderful, heartbreaking writer.

—Susan Sontag

Everyone who reads Walser falls in love with him.

—Nicholas Lezard, The Guardian

Walser achieved a remarkable tone, in which perfect assurance and perfect ambiguity combine.

—Benjamin Kunkel, The New Yorker