{"product_id":"sebald-wg-lithos-jan-peter-tripp-unrecounte","title":"Sebald, W.G.: Unrecounted","description":"\u003cp\u003eNew Directions, paperback\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTranslated by: Michael Hamburger\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eIllustrated by: Jan Peter Tripp\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePublication Date: \u003cspan\u003eOctober 15, 2007\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePublisher Marketing:\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cem\u003eUnrecounted\u003c\/em\u003e\u003cspan\u003e combines thirty-three of what W. G. Sebald called his \"micropoems\"--miniatures as unclassifiable as all of his works--with thirty-three exquisitely exact lithographs by one of his oldest friends, the acclaimed artist Jan Peter Tripp.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThe lithographs portray, with stunning precision, pairs of eyes--the eyes of Beckett, Borges, Proust Jasper Johns, Francis Bacon, Tripp, Sebald, Sebald's dog Maurice. Brief as haiku, the poems are epiphanic and anti-narrative. What the author calls \"time lost, the pain of remembering, and the figure of death\" here find a small home. The art and poems do not explain one another, but rather engage in a kind of dialogue. \"The longer I look at the pictures of Jan Peter Tripp,\" Sebald comments in his essay, \"the better I understand that behind the illusions of the surface, a dread-inspiring depth is concealed. It is the metaphysical lining of reality, so to speak.\"\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Open Books: A Poem Emporium","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":40817179688983,"sku":"9780811217262","price":15.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0004\/6497\/7956\/products\/view_archive_612965d5-70f2-4448-9046-0d3e6fa3c334.jpg?v=1703281709","url":"https:\/\/open-books-a-poem-emporium.myshopify.com\/products\/sebald-wg-lithos-jan-peter-tripp-unrecounte","provider":"Open Books: A Poem Emporium","version":"1.0","type":"link"}