An evening with Dubravka Ugrešić in Amsterdam, on the occasion of the publication of the Dutch edition of her novel "The Fox" -- she insisted that it is a novel, so it's a novel.
A quote: "Everywhere we leave constant traces of our existence, of our struggle against vacuity. And the greater the vacuity, the more violent our struggle—"
A struggle agains vacuity and the traces of that struggle, what else is there?




Q and a in a high school in Amsterdam. A charming and well spoken young man said: "Mr. Grunberg, I need your advice."
Ah, he wants to be an author I thought.
But he said: "I'd like to a diplomat. Do you I can pull this off?"
"Yes," I said. "You can do this."
Then he said: "To be honest, I'm underwhelmed by your work. I haven't read your novels, but your columns..." He shook his head.




An evening in Ghent about my book on the writer as hotel citizen, thanks to J. Roth. Due to the snow only a handful of the about 150 people who had reserved a seat came to the venue.
The front door appeared to be closed.
An elderly man approached me with the words: “Will the event take place, Mr. Grunberg?”
“I hope so,” I answered, “I stumbled through the snow for more than twenty minutes.”
The event started, my feet were still wet.
Then I realized that Charlotte, a poet, had knitted a scarf for me and that I had forgotten the scarf in NY, and she planned to attend the evening. I was deeply ashamed.
Then I said to myself: no, because of the snow, she won’t be here.
Well, despite the weather she made it to the event. She was in the company of a charming psychiatrist, I said: “Charlotte, I have to ask you for forgiveness. Your scarf, your lovely scarf, is in my closet in New York.”




The train from Paris Airport to Brussels stopped in Lille.
"There is a defect train ahead of us. We will be here for two hours of for twenty minutes. I cannot tell you more at this moment," the train manager announced.
I decided to leave the train and take a taxi to Ghent. Time is of the essence.
A room was reserved for me in hotel 1898 the post, it was my first time in this hotel and the driver from Lille said: "Where is it? Is it a hotel? I don't see a hotel. It looks like a church."
I gave him the name of the hotel, but the driver insisted: "It looks lik a church. Are you going to sleep in a church?"
Then he added: "It's not my business anyway."