As I was reading your description of Michael Sorkin’s book, I thought about how I’m often attracted to novels that some readers may deem too ›static‹– books whose authors don’t feel compelled to harness each sentence for developing character or advancing plot. I’m referring to the kind of ›stasis‹ one may encounter in works of, say, W.G. Sebald, Thomas Bernhard, Sándor Márai or Teju Cole. (…) Works that explore eventful inner lives or serve as a depository for information, observations, ideas and patient narratives that are filtered through an alluring consciousness. Books in which one becomes electrically aware of every sentence, every word. This does not, of course, entail true stasis, just a different kind of movement. I think of the mesmerizing rhythm created by Bernhard’s unabated vitriol, or the stealth with which Sebald hypnotizes his reader (…). I think I instinctively lump these books together because they tend to employ techniques that are unique to language, putting them at a greater distance from television or film. In a similar way, I am drawn to films that optimally exploit the tools uniquely available to their medium.

S. J. Naudé: »S. J. Naudé and Ivan Vladislavić: In Conversation«, in: Granta, 12. Dezember 2014.