Claire-Louise Bennett has chosen one of my portraits to illustrate her biography in Granta. The picture was taken at Le Rostand, Paris, in 2018.
“Dodo Ink Acquires Debut Novel by Andrew Gallix.” Dodo Ink Press Release, 7 July 2021:
Dodo Ink is delighted to announce a new publication.
Dodo Ink has acquired UK, Commonwealth and translation rights to Loren Ipsum, the debut novel by French author Andrew Gallix. Gallix founded the 3:AM Magazine website twenty years ago, which is still flourishing; it was the first to champion Tom McCarthy and a host of other emerging writers. He recently edited the anthology We’ll Never Have Paris (Repeater Books) and has reviewed for numerous publications including The Guardian, The Irish Times and The Times Literary Supplement.
Loren Ipsum settles in Paris to write a book about Adam Wandle, a reclusive author who has been hiding out on the fringes of the French capital for decades. Meanwhile, prominent figures of the literati are being kidnapped and “executed” by terrorists, who are convinced that bourgeois bohemians are the main obstacle to revolution today. Cryptic messages are attached to their victims. It transpires that these are all culled from Wandle’s works. Is the latter simply a source of inspiration for the terrorists or their éminence grise? What about the editrix, who is busy rewriting Wandle’s latest typescript by means of erasure? And what of Loren Ipsum herself? Through this satirical collision between the worlds of publishing and guerrilla warfare — set against the background of Paris and its multicultural banlieues — Andrew Gallix explores whether literature can effect radical change. Are books still the only true bombs, as the poet Mallarmé once claimed?
The book was bought on a partial manuscript. Publication is set for 2023.
Andrew Gallix said that he was thrilled with the deal: “Dodo Ink is a bold and innovative independent publisher — my novel couldn’t have found a more fitting home. I look forward to engaging with the whole team and am particularly excited to be edited by Sam Mills, whose work as a writer and publisher I have greatly admired for many years. It’s a dream come true.”
Editorial Director Thom Cuell said, “Andrew is one of the most passionate and insightful contemporary literary voices, and we are delighted to acquire this brilliantly satirical and intelligent novel, which perfectly matches our intention to publish daring and innovative fiction. We look forward to working with Andrew and to sharing Loren Ipsum with readers.”
Sam Mills, Managing Director, said, “We’ve very proud to be publishing Gallix’s debut novel, having been a fan of his essays and fiction for many years. His prose is cerebral, playful and beautifully crafted. In this sharply satirical and wonderfully surreal novel, he explores whether literature can still effect radical change.”
Dodo Ink is an indie press dedicated to publishing daring and difficult fiction. Set up by novelist Sam Mills, book reviewer Thom Cuell and marketing expert Alex Spears, it has published authors such as Monique Roffey, Neil Griffiths and Seraphina Madsen, as well as the recent Trauma anthology, which included essays by Emma-Jane Unsworth, David Lynch and Juliet Jacques.
For PR enquiries contact Sam Mills
Hackett, Tamsin. “Dodo Ink Acquires ‘Playful and Beautifully Crafted’ Gallix debut.” The Bookseller, 8 June 2021:
Independent press Dodo Ink has acquired French author Andrew Gallix’s debut Loren Ipsum, a “daring, satirical novel which alternates between the worlds of publishing and guerrilla warfare”.
The publisher acquired UK, Commonwealth and translation rights directly from the author. The book was bought on partial manuscript and publication is set for 2023.
The synopsis reads: “Loren Ipsum settles in Paris to write a book about Adam Wandle, a reclusive author who has been hiding out on the fringes of the French capital for decades. Meanwhile, prominent figures of the literati are being kidnapped and ‘executed’ by terrorists, who are convinced that bourgeois bohemians are the main obstacle to revolution today. Cryptic messages are attached to their victims. It transpires that these are all culled from Wandle’s works. Is the latter simply a source of inspiration for the terrorists or their éminence grise? What about the editrix, who is busy rewriting Wandle’s latest typescript by means of erasure? And what of Loren Ipsum herself?”
Thom Cuell, editorial director, said: “Andrew is one of the most passionate and insightful contemporary literary voices, and we are delighted to acquire this brilliantly satirical and intelligent novel, which perfectly matches our intention to publish daring and innovative fiction. We look forward to working with Andrew and to sharing Loren Ipsum with readers.”
Gallix commented: “Dodo Ink is a bold and innovative independent publisher — my novel couldn’t have found a more fitting home. I look forward to engaging with the whole team and am particularly excited to be edited by Sam Mills, whose work as a writer and publisher I have greatly admired for many years. It’s a dream come true.”
Gallix is the founder of 3:AM Magazine. He edited the 2019 anthology We’ll Never Have Paris (Repeater Books) and has written reviews for the Guardian, the Irish Times and the Times Literary Supplement.
Here is my review of The Netanyahus by Joshua Cohen. The Irish Times, 5 June 2021, p. 17.
In a postface to his sixth novel, The Netanyahus, Joshua Cohen relates how he befriended Harold Bloom (to whom this book is dedicated) towards the close of his life. The venerable critic regaled Cohen with countless anecdotes — playing chess with Nabokov, skinny-dipping with Derrida — but the one that made the greatest impression was the time he supervised the campus visit of an “obscure Israeli historian” called Ben-Zion Netanyahu, who rocked up with his feral family, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. Netanyahu’s second-born child went on to become the longest-serving, and most controversial, prime minister in Israeli history, thus endowing this farcical fait divers with a retrospective patina of world-historical importance: “An Account of a Minor and Ultimately Even Negligible Episode in the History of a Very Famous Family”.
The antique cast of this comically prolix, self-deprecating subtitle is redolent of early novels, which frequently masqueraded as authentic documents. The Netanyahus purports to be composed by a retired academic who, sensing the nighness of the end, is prompted to put pen to paper, as established in the opening sentences: “My name is Ruben Blum and I’m, yes, an historian. Soon enough, though, I guess I’ll be historical”. This transmutation of subject into subject matter is posited as a “more natural, rational incarnation” than the Christian version: “Goys believe in the Word becoming Flesh, but Jews believe in the Flesh becoming Word”. It could also be construed as the mission statement of an author at the top of his game who, like Flaubert, has alchemised a rather insignificant real-life incident into fictive gold. Cohen exploits his character’s professional rigour to sport with the conventions of memoir. Quotation marks are “holy to historians”, Ruben explains, vowing “to express only what was expressed to [him], as verbatim as [his] memory is able” — which is ironic given that both he and the dialogue are made up. Beyond his aversion to today’s “culture of grievance”, the character bears no resemblance to Harold Bloom. There is his surname, of course, but Ruben’s year of birth — 1922 — connects him to Joyce’s Leopold Bloom, and hence the world of fiction, rather than the waking nightmare of his discipline.
The struggle between history and myth provides the novel with its dialectical armature. History is associated with the onward march of progress, which would go on unimpeded “so long as every country kept trying to be more like America and America kept trying to be more like itself”. Even the revisionist zealot Ben-Zion is depicted, “lotused” on the floor in front of his hosts’ new colour television set, watching Bonanza with rapt attention. Significantly, when events spiral out of control, the tohubohu unleashed by the “Yahus” (as Ruben and his wife, Edith, call them) is likened to technological failure: “the snow was hissing down like static from a world signed-off, ash from the end of broadcast days”.
Ruben opted for “pagan” academia in a bid to flee his “Jewish past” (which returns in the shape of the Yahus), but remains torn between “the American condition of being able to choose and the Jewish condition of being chosen”. His teenage daughter Judy — whose agonistic relation to her elders provides a great deal of mirth — chooses rhinoplasty, which may be her own way of leaving behind the stereotypes affixed to her origins. Corbindale, where the Blums relocated from New York City, is so nondescript that their relatives keep calling it “Corbinton” or “Corbinville”. It is also a hotbed of petty anti-Semitism. The mechanic at the local garage pats Ruben’s head to feel his horns and, as the first Jew to be hired by Corbin College, he is expected to don a Santa Claus outfit at Christmas. It is for this very reason too that he is tasked, in 1960, with vetting Mr Netanyahu’s application and preparing his visit. Ben-Zion, whose idiosyncratic interpretation of the Iberian Inquisition I shall not disclose, argues that the Jewish people have been able to endure by abiding in myth, from whence he himself seems to have sprung. When he howls, it is “in the wind’s language, Hebrew” that he does so.
The Netanyahus demonstrates what can still be done within the relatively conventional yet capacious parameters of literary fiction. It veers from mid-century comedy of manners to campus caper by way of social, political and religious satire. Bravura displays — such as the hilarious scene where Edith’s mother harangues Ruben while her husband unburdens himself, most indiscreetly, in the adjoining toilet — are legion. Dialogue is deftly handled throughout: the banter between Ruben and Edith, in particular, is pitch perfect. Cohen’s style — inventive but elegantly understated — is a class act that few of his contemporaries can follow.
All in all, this is a veritable triumph.
Me in my bedroom in 1980 at the Museum of Youth Culture‘s pop-up on Carnaby Street in 2021.
Another illustration provided by Christiana Spens for a short film based on the first chapter of my work-in-progress, Loren Ipsum.
“An old dear who had been strangled in broad daylight with her Hermès scarf near the Champs-Elysées. The motive of the crime remained a complete mystery prompting prominent columnists to brush up on their Gide, eager as they were to frame this putative acte gratuit with lashings of Lafcadio. There was no CCTV footage. No witnesses. None of the woman’s expensive jewellery had been stolen. The wads of banknotes she was wont to carry about in her handbag? All there too and all too there. Not only was their non-theft ostentatious, even downright provocative, but rumour had it that a couple of extra bundles had been bunged in for good measure — that is, presumably, as compensation for the murder. A tip of sorts. Her quiddity for a few quid, or the equivalent in euros. Stranger still, forensics had found breadcrumbs lodged, hither and thither, in the biddy’s extravagantly-lacquered bouffant. They believed the victim was beaten about the head with a baguette tradition bien cuite. Whether this had occurred before, after or, less plausibly, during the strangling, remained a moot point at this stage. One school of thought argued that the criminal had planned to kill their easy prey with this incredible — and indeed edible — weapon, before consuming it, thus cunningly disposing of exhibit number one. In the event, however, the crusty bread had proved insufficiently crusty, hence the scarf. The only real clue, and a rather cryptic one at that, was a note pinned to the corpse’s coat, which read NOTHING IS LOST in English and in all-caps Helvetica Neue. A death sentence.”