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3.87 of 5 stars 3.87  ·  rating details  ·  89 ratings  ·  15 reviews
Fiction. Bilingual Edition. Translated from the German by Peter Smith. A Beckettian character, who may or may not be trapped in a room with four baskets full of infants, focuses obsessively on a single sentence--"I fuck babies." This virtuoso text by Swiss experimental writer Urs Allemann won the prestigious Ingeborg Bachmann Preis des Landes Karnten in 1991 and caused one ...more
Paperback, 134 pages
Published January 1st 2010 by Les Figues Press (first published January 1st 1992)
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“Inflate the sentence. Try to make it burst.”
--Babyfucker, Urs Allemann

The Invisible Universe

Two recent inventions that merge the act of reading in printed and digital space provide an opening for interpreting Urs Allemann’s Babyfucker (Les Figues Press, 2010) through the framework of “quantum poetics,” which, in my use of the term, applies principles in theoretical physics to poetry and prose. The first invention I’ll mention is the digital pop-up book, a printed book
Dayna Ingram
The best thing about this book is explaining it to someone else. The conversation goes something like this:

A: "What are you reading?"
B: "It's called Babyfucker."
A (uneasy laughter): "Um, what?"
B: "It's about a guy who may or may not be surrounded by babies whom he occasionally fucks."
A: "....We can't be friends anymore."

But seriously, reading this book is like trying to remember your dreams from a week ago and analyze all the symbolism you may have just now imagined because you couldn't actually
"Question. Where would I be if I were to raise up my eyelid. Would there be babies. Would there be creels. Would there be the garret. Would there be fucking. Would there be writing. Would there by money. Would there be work. Would there be a garden. Would there be a dog. Would I have been born. Would Linda be pregnant. Would everyone be from somewhere. Would there be books. Would there be newspapers. Would there be a Saturday. ... Would there be a Sunday. Would there be a walk. Would there be po ...more
read my interview with author urs allemann on the tarpaulin sky blog.

"It wasn't an idea. It was an image. An image in my head. A vexing image. An image that was just suddenly there. Without reminding me of anyone or anything. Without eliciting any feeling in me. That's what was vexing. A challenge. And then suddenly the sentence was there. As a response to the image? As an escape? As self-defense? I don't know. “I fuck babies.” And then there was the decision to attempt to extract something like
Burroughs by way of Beckett it would seem. But is Allemann just trying to push buttons or is he getting at something deeper? The core concept that the book revolves around (fucking babies) feels at first like the type of transgressive nonsense a teenager would come up with to offend his parents. It's so outlandish and ridiculous that the book feels like a joke at times.

But it does reach deeper than just a gag. Clearly taking stylistic inspiration from Samuel Beckett (with some potential referenc
Robb Todd
This must be read in one sitting, nonstop, and, if you have the courage, read it in public. (Thanks for the bright yellow cover, oh yes.) The book is a journey inside a deranged mind where nothing is certain, especially the constant refrain of the book's first sentence.
Sometimes I can't decide whether or not I've good taste in books compared to critical reception or those 'respected' critics with their own spots in NY Times and whatnot.

For me, this book was good. Strange. But I liked it. "For I, myself, am strange and unusual." (from Beetlejuice)

The images are disturbing in a drugged out baby on the ceiling Trainspotting way.

This isn't about a man baby-diddling...or is it? There was a lot of subtext within this Dadaist story. And to me, it's the subtext that
I just read this in a single setting and now I feel all befucked. It is nothing like Bataille, Delany, or Cooper, as the description tries to claim. It is just language eternally in the present. It is written sort of like a more contemporary Gertrude Stein of Tender Buttons except there is a sort of static narrative underlying it in a different way than Stein, namely in the fact that there are (possibly) characters or there is at least an "I" which is always weird for this kind of text, I think. ...more
Jaredjosephjaredjoseph harveyharveyharveyharvey
Either I feel something. Or I sense something. Either I write something. Or I fuck something.

Always liked to cut wasps in half.
Not sure I can understand all the German and Swiss fuss about this one. The mere repetition of the idea of babyfucking quickly wears itself out and becomes, in my eyes, just another weird German-language read. Seems the point behind it was more to play with the language, construct of sentences and words than to actually make any kind of real statement.

Some interesting translation choices as well.
love me some shock value--- but no lull in it; no respite... just baby fucking and preparation thereof and starting off sensational without taking it further and... blah.
Re-read this for a project recently and was re-invigorated by it. Beckett for sure, dabbling in Sade, with a breath of filth that seems much more modern, like Glenum or Cooper.
Mark Baumer
Just another book about a guy struggling for existance in the world of his guilty thoughts.
'nuff said...
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Urs Allemann was born in the city of Schlieren, near Zurich, (Switzerland) in 1948. From 1986 to 2004 he directed the section of culture and literature of the Swiss journal of Basle (Basler Zeitung). He published three books of narrative and several works of poetry, including: Fuzzhase, Poems (1988), Holder die Polder (2001), Schoen, Schoen! (2003), and Im Kinde Schwirren Die Ahnen (2008). He curr ...more
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schoen! schoen! Gedichte Im Kinde Schwirren Die Ahnen Buch

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