Contributors

Frederic Tuten

Contributor History

My Autobiography: Portable, With Commentary, Conjunctions:40
The Park Near Marienbad, Conjunctions:42
Voyagers, Conjunctions:44
Voyagers, Multimedia 10-11-2005 (mp3, 00:02:53)
Self-Portrait with Beach, Conjunctions:48
Self-Portrait with Sicily, Conjunctions:50
The Veranda, Conjunctions:54
Self-Portrait with Circus, Multimedia 09-15-2010 (mp3, 00:13:51)
The Tower, Conjunctions:60
The Snow on Tompkins Square Park, Conjunctions:61
Some Episodes in the History of My Reading, Conjunctions:63 (63:49-58)
Some Episodes in the History of My Reading, Conjunctions:63 (mp3, 00:12:41)
The Café, the Sea, Deauville, 1966, Conjunctions:68
Nine Flowers in Three Sanctuaries, Conjunctions:70
The Bar at Twilight, Conjunctions:72
Selections from On a Terrace in Tangier, Online 05-18-2022
Uncle Umberto’s Orchard, Conjunctions:80

Biography

Frederic Tuten is the award-winning author of five novels, including The Adventures of Mao on the Long March, The Green Hour, and Tintin in the New World, selected by The New York Times as a Notable Book of the Year, as well as a memoir, My Young Life, and a book of interwoven short stories, Self Portraits: Fictions. His stories have received three Pushcart Prizes and an O'Henry Prize for fiction.

His latest collection of stories, The Bar at Twilight (Bellevue Literary Press), was released in May. On a Terrace in Tangier - Works on Cardboard will be published by KMEC Books and Konig Buchhandlung in July.

Connect

In Print

Conjunctions:80

Ways of Water

Spring 2023
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

Letter to My Submerged Father

by Sangamithra Iyer

June 7, 2023

After we immersed your ashes in the river Ganga, I wrote a letter to my friends back home: “Our journey began in North India,” I wrote, “but this story really begins in South India in Tamil Nadu, in a place called Kallakurichi, where my father was born.” It was where your father, my Thatha, became a spinner of cotton and a diviner of water.

Zoop

by Jess Arndt

May 31, 2023

Ice worms first start communing with me in Forlandsundet, a miles-deep sound north of the Greenland Sea. I don’t speak Norwegian, but I can parse: For. Land. Sun. It’s completely black outside. Det means “that or it.” Det, that’s easy, I’ve been one all my life.

The KV Svalbard is an icebreaker. From the foredeck, the rocky screes sweeping west are the planet’s emptiest place. No one between us and the North Pole.

“Det,” I hear, “Oi Det.” I can’t locate the strange, oblong voice, more of a nose whistle. Near me? but not inside me. I soon give up.

Rainmaking

by Lindsey Drager

May 24, 2023

Of course the book she writes—the lesser book, the book about nothing—becomes a popular text, one that readers adore. When they ask her what she will write next, she says she is going to write the book over. Over? they ask her.
Again, she says. She isn’t really a writer, she tells them, she’s a transcriber. She transcribes stories.
Across languages? they ask.
No, she says. That would be translation. I used to do that but stopped, she says. Now I transcribe. I take texts and transcribe them into another version of the same language.
So you rewrite, they say.
No, she says. You’ll see.