Nathalie Quintane 1964–
paris, france
Q
uintane, primarily a poet, writes in a deceptively simple style. Her
first works were published in avant-garde reviews including Doc(k)s,
If, Java, Nioques, Perpendiculaire, and La Revue de littérature générale.She now resides in Digne-les-Bains, near the Côte d’Azur. Quintane has also
produced fiction for French radio (France Culture), participated in the Deauville
Film Festival, and written a play. Principal works: Chaussures, 1997; Remarques,
1997; Début: Autobiographie, 1999; Mortinsteinck, 1999; Champagne-les-Marais,
2001; Saint-Tropez—Une Américaine, 2001.
My Pushkin
A plain old dope isn’t always an artist
thought he, sliding o√ his seat again
(Pushkin himself could barely stay seated*)
OK, so let’s propose something! said he
the nape of his neck still red. He’d knocked it on
the samovar.
—But the proposal, such a limited
line, is just a verse, said a friend
scratching himself. And his cap fell to one side.
Really what a disaster! one more idea-less
day (un jour = une idée) And what poetry,
but what poetry, for 1835?
Thereupon, Pushkin put his galoshes back on
(the snow kept on falling)
* according to Kharms
—mary ann caws