Gent

At first sight, nothing could be more reasonable or understandable than the illustration of the present issue of PLURAL. As the texts spin around the sexual obsession in Romanian literature, running from Creanga`s licentious Tale of All Tales to Agopian and Aldulescu`s swank,

It so happened that I lived for a while in Polynesia, and this extends the story up to the Antipodes. I had recently come back from the countries of the South Pacific, from the Polynesian islands. I was bringing with me the brain tomographies of a Maori minister, the file

excerpts Crina: Very few people on the trolleybus. I take a seat and as always I get to be on the sunny side. I prop an elbow in the curved rubber of the windowsill. White with powder and fingerprints, it is filled with seed coats and a used ticket. Gusts of wind carrying

Chapter SixIt's barely after midnight. Door number 415 opens. I get out and the door remains unlocked, wide open even, behind me. There is no one at this late hour to hear me and even if it were, why should I be afraid when I look like a leaving visitor, and not like

excerpt 02/01/1980I am reading something by W. Faulkner, which lives among dusty shelves, with a tidy certitude; that certitude divorced reality a long time ago, quietly depleting, like a breeze of air when it sees injustice taking hold… and I now believe that this is

excerpt I carefully studied him. It seemed to me that he was shaking. His hair was dark and curly, his eyes bright and his face was fresh and clean like a baby's. Why are you looking at me like this!?My, how you've grown, Raresh!You have such beautiful eyes! I've

excerpts Friday EveningGood evening. I am Andreea. Maybe I don't give a fuck about who you are. Ok, I was trying to be polite; I'd like to know whom I'm talking to. Listen, sweetheart, cut the crap, say eiteen. I beg your pardon?Eiteen! Say eiteen, what the

ArgumentI have always regretted the lack of raw erotic detail in the most remarkable works of fiction. This frustration is by no means compensated for by the high availability of lurid, pornographic books. When reading fiction, I do not look for arousal, but for precision.

He went out of the smoky-glass building without looking back. He was treading slowly, looking at the tips of his impeccably polished Timberland shoes. He hadn't even managed to answer the porter, who may have wished him well, smiling as in a dental-floss commercial.

Dies estexcerptsHe would kiss her and caress her breasts clutching them (as if her breasts were mere rubber balls), and he couldn't figure out just how much cheap male instinct, and how much true passion, was hiding behind his gestures. Those were the gestures of a

excerpt The following days, Mioara took the girls for a walk in Chishmigiu Park and treated them on a boat ride (the driver of the black car had rolled up his sleeves and was rowing across the lake, giving the ladies nice smiles from under his pointed moustache). Later

excerpts  I passed the entrance exam in philology at Cluj, but I was already bored after my freshman year. I had the best results in my class, but that was not my place. Whenever I danced at parties, and I felt the boys' knees splitting my legs through my dress, my