Adriana Díaz Enciso

The Iniquitous Agony of Literature

La inicua agonía de la literatura

Adriana Díaz Enciso

Part One I must have been around eighteen when I showed up, my writings tucked under my arm, for the Elías Nandino Fine Arts literary workshop at the Ex-Convent del…

Writers (and Translators) of the World…

Adriana Díaz Enciso

The other day I was about to send my translations of some poems to the online journal Asymptote, until I read in their submissions’ guidelines that they charge a fee…

Stolen Spring, Funereal Shots

Adriana Díaz Enciso

We’d started to have glimmers of hope: spring, the vaccinations. Some warm days of luminous splendour and, of course, the blossoms: the first shy blooming cherry trees, the daffodils (riotously…

De consorcios editoriales y enterradores

Adriana Díaz Enciso

Empecé a escribir mi novela Ciudad doliente de Dios (Alfaguara/UNAM, 2018) en 1997. Una escena apenas, ideas vagas que se concretaron en un primer borrador al año siguiente, durante una…

Desolation?

¿Desolación?

Adriana Díaz-Enciso

to Sandro Cohen, and all the friends mentioned here December 2020. The end of an indescribable year in which everything has happened and, at the same time, in the repetitive…

A Prodigious Dustbin Flower

Prodigiosa flor del basurero

Adriana Díaz Enciso

Origins He’s a true dickensian hero. The son of Irish immigrants, he grows up in poverty in the north of London. At seven he contracts meningitis, infected by the rats…