Editor's Note

As authoritarianism continues to take hold across the world, writers and translators are compelled to revisit an age-old question: What might art offer in response? Perhaps not answers, but something quieter and more resilient—a reminder of shared human frailty, and of the possibility that our “flow of being,” as Anatoly Loginov writes, might arrive at a “narrow neck” where attention itself becomes an existential force. Writing in our Winter 2026 Issue, which also marks Asymptote’s fifteenth anniversary, Loginov turns to a literary and philosophical tradition that seeks “not mastery over an object, but communion with it, even if that communion burns.” For this second of our two issues devoted to attention, we bring together his tour de force essay with a luminous travelogue by the beloved Taiwanese writer Sanmao, an excerpt from Guatemalan author Eduardo Halfon’s prizewinning Tarantula, an exclusive interview with Uzbek novelist Hamid Ismailov, a quietly devastating story by Italian master Dino Buzzati, and new translations of Milo De Angelis by Lawrence Venuti, alongside never-before-published work from 32 countries. All of it is illustrated by our talented Dublin-based guest artist Yosef Phelan.

“Gotta somehow try and see the beauty / in all of this shit.” That line, lifted from Hélène Laurain’s On Fire, sets the tonal pitch for the second installment of our Special Feature on attention. In Laurain’s incendiary excerpt, a French activist reckons with the aftermath of sabotaging a nuclear waste site, her memories of solidarity and warmth flickering against the numbing effects of police surveillance and enforced isolation. Less volatile but no less searching, the poetry of Amsterdam-based writer Daniel Carden Nemo dissolves the boundary between subject and object, quietly reminding us that to observe is already to participate, and therefore to choose. Hanaka’s sumptuous poem, rooted in a Kyoto festival, situates us within a lineage of attentiveness stretching back centuries, while Loginov’s magisterial essay surveys more than two hundred years of Russian thought to argue that attention, when cultivated deeply, can ground compassion toward others.

Finnish playwright Minna Canth takes this ethical impulse further into the realm of collective action. In her barnburner drama, railway workers pushed beyond endurance channel their shared anger into defiant sabotage, making exploitation visible at last. Writing from a different frontline, Kurdish journalist Zekine Türkeri bears witness to life in the Mahmur refugee camp in the days preceding an ISIS attack, showing how attention to the living entails the inescapable labor of mourning the dead. Elsewhere, in Egyptian writer Mariam Abd Elaziz’s fiction, characters struggle to care for one another as they swim and sink in the deadly currents of maritime refugee smuggling. Across these works, attention is not only contemplative but also strikingly urgent.

The poetry of Danish writer Søren R. Fauth turns inward to examine a more intimate but no less pervasive force: the petty cruelty of male rage, its libidinal investment in patriarchal grievance. Its inverse—emotional withdrawal—emerges in a slow-burning story by Turkish author Ilgın Yıldız, where an unnamed mother’s depression erodes her capacity for care, her isolation mirrored by the abandoned animals that populate her daughter’s storybook. The issue’s arc closes with an interview in which A.J. Carruthers and Wang Guanglin reflect on the difficulty of imagining a genuinely global literature at a moment marked by isolationism, xenophobia, and resurgent nationalism. World literature, they suggest, remains, at heart, a problem of attention: of who is seen, who is heard, and who is permitted to remain invisible.

For fifteen years, Asymptote has been organized around this problem. Founded on the conviction that literature across languages deserves sustained, serious attention, we have worked to widen the field of vision—introducing readers to voices beyond dominant centers, and treating translation not as a secondary act but as an ethical and imaginative practice in its own right. That work continues only through the shared commitments of our readers, contributors, and supporters. We invite you to stay engaged: follow us on Facebook, X, Instagram, Threads, via our newsletter, and in our daily blog. If you or the organization you represent want international attention on any regional literature, consider commissioning a country-themed Special Feature, or taking out a publicity package. If you would like to be part of an upcoming issue or even our dynamic volunteer team, check out our submission guidelines (Slovenian translators, take note: submissions to our upcoming paid Special Feature, organized in partnership with Slovenian Book Agency, closes Mar 1) and our latest recruitment drive (we’re on a lookout for social media managers, among others; deadline: Feb 9). Finally, if this project has mattered to you—if you believe that attention, patiently given, can still resist the forces that would narrow our view—we ask you to help keep it alive by becoming a sustaining or masthead member. Your support ensures that the flow of being we trace here continues to move, freely and exuberantly, into the years ahead.

—Lee Yew Leong, Editor-in-Chief



Editorial Team for Issue January 2026

Editor-in-Chief: Lee Yew Leong (Thailand/Singapore)

Assistant Managing Editors: Sam Bowden (USA), Ella Dailey (Belgium/USA), Veronica Gisondi (Italy), Hilary Ilkay (Canada), Sofija Popovska (North Macedonia), Kathryn Raver (France/USA), and Sarah Roth (USA)

Section Editors:
Lee Yew Leong (Thailand/Singapore)
Heather Green (USA)
M.L. Martin (USA)
Willem Marx (Italy/UK)
Caridad Svich (USA/UK)

Senior Assistant Editor: Chiara Gilberti (Germany/Italy)

Assistant Editors: Bernard Capinpin (Philippines), Sabrina Fountain (USA), Danielle Janess (USA), David Pavlas (Slovenia), Olivia Wolgemuth (USA), Catherine Xin Xin Yu (Canada/Italy), Daniel Yadin (USA), Chris Yeung (Hong Kong/USA), Junyi Zhou (USA), and Lin Chia-Wei (Taiwan) 

Assistant Interview Editor: Sarah Gear

Contributing Editors: Ellen Elias-Bursac (USA), Aamer Hussein (UK), Sim Yee Chiang (Singapore), Dylan Suher (USA), Alex Tan (USA/Singapore) and Adrian West (USA)

Art Director: Lee Yew Leong (Thailand/Singapore)

Editor-at-large, Bahrain: Amal Sarhan
Editor-at-large, Bulgaria: Andriana Hamas
Editor-at-large, China: Hongyu Jasmine Zhu
Editor-at-large, Greece: Christina Chatzitheodorou
Editor-at-large, Guatemala: José García Escobar
Editor-at-large, Hong Kong: Charlie Ng Chak-Kwan
Editors-at-large, India: Zohra Salih and Sayani Sarkar
Editor-at-large, Italy: Veronica Gisondi
Editor-at-large, Kenya: Wambua Muindi
Editor-at-large, Nigeria: Bethlehem Attfield
Editor-at-large, North Macedonia: Sofija Popovska
Editor-at-large, Mexico: René Esaú Sánchez
Editors-at-large, Palestine: Carol Khoury and Shatha Abd El Latif
Editor-at-large, Philippines: Alton Melvar M. Dapanas
Editor-at-large, Romania and Moldova: MARGENTO
Editor-at-large, Sweden: Linnea Gradin
Editor-at-large, USA: Mary Noorlander
Editor-at-large, Uzbekistan: Filip Noubel
Editor-at-large, Vietnamese Diaspora: Thuy Dinh


Masthead for Issue January 2026

Fiction and Interview: Lee Yew Leong
Poetry: M.L. Martin
Nonfiction: Willem Marx
Drama: Caridad Svich
Visual: Heather Green
Outsiders and On Attention Special Features: Lee Yew Leong
Illustrations and Cover: Yosef Phelan

Assistant Managing Editor (supervising Assistant Editors): Sam Bowden

Assistant Managing Editors (supervising Editors-at-Large): Kathryn Raver, Veronica Gisondi, and Sofija Popovska

Assistant Managing Editor (overseeing issue production): Ella Dailey

Assistant Managing Editor (overseeing blog production): Hilary Ilkay

Chief Executive Assistant: Dina Famin
 
Senior Executive Assistants: Julie Shi, Meenakshi Ajit, and M.M. Pinky

Executive Assistants: Michelle Clemente, Haeri Lee, and Will Young

Blog Editors: Xiao Yue Shan, Bella Creel, and Meghan Racklin

Art Director: Lee Yew Leong

Guest Artist Liaison: Berny Tan

Chief Copy Editor: Rachel Stanyon

Senior Copy Editors: Jennifer Busch, Ellen Sprague, and Maggie Wang, with help from Ellen Elias-Bursac

Copy Editors: Sophie Eliza Benbelaid, Ruairi Casey, Megan Kruger, Hannah Lund, Caitlin McKie, Matilde Ribeiro, Grace Roodenrys, Mia Ruf, Sam Steinmetz, and Rebecca Wood

Technical Manager: József Szabó

Director of Outreach: Georgina Fooks

English Social Media: Ruwa Alhayek, Arla Hoxha, and Huey-En Ooi

French Social Media: Filip Noubel

Spanish Social Media: Sergio Serrano

Graphic Designer: Michael Laungjessadakun

Senior Digital Editor: Matthew Redman

Digital Editors: Julia Maria, Savitri Asokan, and Haajar Abu Ismail

Marketing Manager: Kate Lofthouse

Director, Educational Arm: Sarah Nasar

Educational Arm Assistants: Mary Hillis, Marissa Lydon, Devi Sastry, and Sonakshi Srivastava

Business Developer: Arsalan Isa

Book Club Manager: Carol Khoury

Asymptote would like to acknowledge the support of Cristiana Chiumenti and The Italian Literary Agency.

For their generous donations this past quarter, our heartfelt thanks go too to A J Gray, Aaron Sayne, Andrea Nemeth-Newhauser, Ann Goldstein, Benjamin Saff, Brother Anthony of Taizé, Cynthia Whitehead, Daniel Hahn, Darcy Hurford, Dora Zhang, Dustin Simpson, Gina Caputo, James Ellis, Jeffrey Boyle, Katarzyna Bartoszynska, Lawrence Flood, Lynn O'Neal, Margaret Costa, Marguerite Feitlowitz, Marjolijn de Jager, Mark Cohen, Martin Ingebrigtsen, Monty Reid, Nora Bojar, Paul Filev, Sasha Burik, Selma Dabbagh, Sidney Wade, Siew Chin Chin, Tayyba Kanwal, Thomas Carroll, Velina Manolova, and William Justice.

We'd also like to welcome Lawrence Flood, new masthead member, as well as Brendan Quinn and Aaron Sayne, new sustaining members who joined us this past quarter.

Back

Fiction

Dino Buzzati, Unnecessary Invitations

Translated from the Italian by Seán McDonagh

I would like to walk with you, one spring day, with the sky brushed grey and last year’s old leaves still being dragged by the wind around the suburban streets; and I would like if it were a Sunday.

George C. Dumitru, Lucas

Translated from the Romanian by Jozefina Komporaly

He reached out and touched Lucas gently on his waist. Contact with the boy induced a gentle frisson in his arm, a movement that was almost real.

Ilgın Yıldız, Vissi d’amore

Translated from the Turkish by Jacob De Camillis

Time is like a giant ball of mangled elastic bands—layer upon layer of never-starting and ending knots.

Gábor Kálmán, Heart-Shaped Hole

Translated from the Hungarian by Tímea Sipos

Every morning, I had to stare at the heart-shaped hole while shitting, perched in the smell of disintegrating excrement. Through the hole, I could see the far-off hills, the clear blue sky, the crystal-clear air, the light and orderliness.

Mar Gómez Glez, Emergence

Translated from the Spanish by Sarah Thomas

There are people who think being a fungus or an insect, or suffering from any other kind of severe malformation, is a tragedy. For me, though, it’s been the most fascinating experience, stressful at times, but recommended without reservation.

Ujjal Sinha, The Tryst

Translated from the Bengali by Arunava Sinha

Life was at a juncture at which everything would change. The magical transformation was at hand, all he had to do was keep his eyes open.

Poetry

Eugenia Ouliankina, Eight Poems

Translated from the Russian by Ivan Alekseev and James Bradley

the wisdom of fish was noted by such explorers
as A. Platonov and E. Kusturica

having both of its eyes on one side a fish
sees what it wants
unsees what it wants

Morten Nielsen, Message of a Defeat

Translated from the Danish by Sheema Kalbasi

By day and by night my mighty
heart stood, burning with joy,
its door flung wide to every
shift of light
and every small sound.

Rokhl Korn, Four Poems

Translated from the Yiddish by Pearl Abraham

I will throw myself into the jungle
of my loneliness with all my limbs,
grope the night with memories like silent footsteps

Rocío Cerón, from Áurica Speculari

Translated from the Spanish by Dana Delibovi

The flow is the quantity of something that passes across a surface. This surface is a country, a century, a poem, a wisp of breath above a flower through a lion’s teeth.

Wolfdietrich Schnurre, from Prison Slips

Translated from the German by Chris Holdaway

I saw iguanas raging in the compounds,
locust swarms forcing their blood
onto a lustful sky;
yet I saw no trace of human.

Milo De Angelis, from Resemblances

Translated from the Italian by Lawrence Venuti

The effort was to become real
but the world of places and measures
Tuesday morning
can’t
because it rejects any move whatsoever.

Marie Lundquist, from One Meter Above the Dark

Translated from the Swedish by Malena Mörling

Didn’t I hide your ruptured speech? You could have let the silence garner in your mouth. Envied the quiver of the photographer’s hand: a pulse through the picture’s rasterized heart.

Boris Ryzhy, Four Poems

Translated from the Russian by Olga Mexina

My friend Nonsense taught me not to know a damn
thing. In a sailor’s shirt, à la your neighbor, the ex-con,
I roamed.

Mahsa Moeen, Mind Fever

Translated from the Persian by Mahsa Moeen

to separation, to death, to pain
to suffering born after pleasure
I say no

Søren R. Fauth, from Moloch: A Story of My Rage

Translated from the Danish by Sheila Nyholm D'Souza

my minimal member
my minimal self
my monumental farewell.

Nonfiction

Sanmao, from Travels in Ecuador

Translated from the Chinese by Wenxin Liang

Back in Taiwan, I had wept in secret from exhaustion and emptiness after seminars. Yet here, alone in the open wild, I felt none of that deep loneliness.

Zekine Türkeri, A Jihadist Dried Up a Sea

Translated from the Turkish by Keko Menéndez Türkeri

Time already passes slowly in this desert, but now it barely seems to move the clock’s hand as ISIS approaches.

Kyoungsun Lim, from The Woman That I Am

Translated from the Korean by Joheun Jo Lee

Most of the photographs from that road trip show my mother and me in the same pose with the same exhausted expressions, only against different backgrounds.

Sidsel Ana Gajardo, As a child of a refugee, I have learned that war lives on across generations

Translated from the Danish by Sidsel Ana Gajardo

When does a war end? I want it to end so I can see you in a different light.

Drama

Minna Canth, from Children of Misfortune

Translated from the Finnish by Minna Jeffery

A dangerous endeavour, I admit. But only the brave get their supper.

Visual

Kristin Dykstra, A Poetic Psychology of Attention: An Interview with Kristin Dykstra

Outsiders

János Háy, Nuóc

Translated from the Hungarian by Eugene Brogyányi

Could someone called Antoine truly be victorious in life?

Mariam Abd Elaziz, from Where the River Ends

Translated from the Arabic by Caroline Benson

He said that the continents were once all a supercontinent called Pangaea—a theory. The African landmass had started drifting counterclockwise while the Eurasian one moved opposite, shaping this rift that the ocean would fill to drown the wretched in its depths.

Natalia Litvinova, from Firefly

Translated from the Spanish by Fiona Graham

It’s not hard to understand a woman who enters a butcher’s shop holding her children by the hand and articulating each word slowly for fear of making a mistake.

Eduardo Halfon, from Tarantula

Translated from the Spanish by Daniel Hahn

What were the books I’d never read, the Spanish journalist asked, that had had the greatest influence on me as a writer? The Torah and the Popol Vuh, I said.

On Attention

Pura López Colomé, from Via Corporis

Translated from the Spanish by Hillary Gulley

Who are you? Fanatical simplicity. And you thought with that you’d paid your dues. Well, let me tell you: There’s not a fire that goes out.

Hanaka, At Time’s Corner

Translated from the Japanese by Kyoko Yoshida

I take a deep breath of history
how delicious the air is
it delights the body exhausted from a journey

Daniel Carden Nemo, Hamartia

Ever noticed how the surface of the earth seems to give things away

Hélène Laurain, On Fire

Translated from the French by Catherine Leung

All I ask is that you taste a pear
he said to them

Anatoly Loginov, The Narrow Neck of Being

Translated from the Russian by Anatoly Loginov

The neck is a place of existential constriction, where the flow of being, the roar of history, and the cry of one’s own soul are compressed to a limit. One may squeeze through this narrowness—or get stuck and suffocate.

Interview

An Interview with Wang Guanglin

This dialogue tells us that the idea of world literature was very closely connected with the practice of translation from the beginning. The question remains, however, who translates? For whom? For what purpose?

An Interview with Hamid Ismailov

The more I think about what it means to be a writer, the more I come to the conclusion that a writer serves the language, not a readership or any particular group.