This year, writer
\nNora Iuga was awarded the National Order for merit in rank of Commander for her
\ndedication and the talent with which she got involved in promoting Romania’s
\nimage abroad. It is not the first distinction for eighty-six year old Nora
\nIuga. In 2015, Nora Iuga was awarded the Knight Commander’s Cross of the Order
\nof Merit of the Federal Republic of Germany. It was also Germany that in 2007
\nawarded Nora Iuga the Friedrich-Gundolf Prize, offered by the Deutsche Akademie
\nfur Sprache und Dichtung, the German Academy for Language and Poetry. It is a
\ndistinction that usually goes to public figures who have contributed to the
\npromotion of German culture around the world. <\/p>\n
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\n
\n
\n
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Poet, prose writer and translator, Nora Iuga is a
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The memory of the very first lines she wrote is still
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Suddenly, in the kitchen of the very modest house I used to live in with my parents, I remember myself doing my homework. On the
<\/p>\n
Eighty-six year old Nora Iuga takes us by surprise
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I have never set for myself the task of playing the
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A supporter
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I like this stage we’ve been going through in
<\/p>\n
This year, jointly with Angela Baciu, Nora Iuga has
Nora Iuga receives state award for her contribution to promoting Romanias image abroad.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":135,"featured_media":161660,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[44685],"tags":[38034],"coauthors":[],"class_list":["post-161659","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-world-of-culture","tag-nora-iuga"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\nmember of Romanian Writers’ Union and of the PEN club. She has published almost
\n20 volumes of poetry, among which It Is not My Fault, published in 1968,
\nThe Captivity of the Circle<\/em>, a volume published in 1970 and withdrawn
\nfrom bookshops and libraries following a seven-year publication ban. This was followed by Opinions on Pain<\/em>, published in 1980, The Heart as a Boxer’s
\nPunch<\/em>, published in 1982 and 2000 The Sky Market<\/em>, from 1986, The
\nNight Typist<\/em>, published in 1996 and 2010, and The Dummies’ Hospital<\/em>,
\npublished in 1998 and 2010. Nora Iuga’s literary output also includes The
\nHunchbacks’ Bus<\/em>, published in 2001 and 2010, Party in Montrouge<\/em>,
\npublished in 2012, The Wet Dog is a Willow<\/em>, published in 2013 and Listen
\nto the Brackets Crying<\/em>, published in 2016. <\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n
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\nvery vivid to Nora Iuga. It all happened when she was a second grader in Sibiu,
\ncentral Romania. Here is Nora Iuga herself: <\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n
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\ntable I used to do my work, there was a history book and a little notebook,
\nwhile my father was doing his violin practice. Then I happened to write my
\nfirst poem. It was a confession I made on various other occasions, but that’s
\nhow it really began. And that’s how the woman and the artist were born, as well
\nas the inquisitive, anxious spirit that has been enhancing up to the age I have
\ntoday. It is a spirit prompting me to be totally on my own, deciphering the
\nmiracles of nature, the astral elements, the boreal aurora. I have been trying
\nto explain to myself as many as possible of the things I have encountered.
\nOftentimes it seems to me it is as if I were in the early days of philosophy,
\nasking myself the same questions and problems that used to be raised in those
\ntimes. It is rather silly, it is ludicrous to confess something like that, you
\nas an intellectual. But I’m brimming with joy being able to find my own
\nexplanations to a mystery. <\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n
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\nalmost every year with a new volume, poetry and prose, a volume that does not
\npass unnoticed by readers and critics, alike. It is exactly what happened with Listen
\nto the Brackets Crying<\/em>, a volume brought out last year by the Cartea
\nRomaneasca publishers and rated as the 2016 Book of the Year by the Jury of the
\nYoung Writers’ Gala. Notwithstanding, Nora Iuga says:<\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n
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\npart of the model pupil. All that I did, I did out of an immense pleasure. And
\nGod or the Engineer of genius, as I like to call him, took care of me and gave
\nme an amazing power. It’s true that in the last five or six years I brought out
\na book, poetry or prose, on a yearly basis, and I believe I first and foremost
\nowe that rhythm to my loneliness. It is a complete loneliness which a person
\nwith my vitality cannot stand unless I fill it with something which makes me
\nfeel alive, which makes me feel that I can still be useful. I have never
\nfavoured the idea of receiving ready-made things. What kept me alive was the
\nconviction that I could still give something to this world. I feel compelled to
\ngive something, anything, to others and that makes me feel happy. But it was
\nnot only loneliness that has helped me. I dare say I have a very good brain
\nand, for that, I once again thank that Engineer of genius.<\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n
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\nof the avant-garde, Nora Iuga thinks the experiment is the main generator of
\ninnovation in literature. Nora Iuga
\nagain:<\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n
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\npoetry, as I feel we live on the borderline, that we’re getting closer to
\nanother stage. In the wake of a minimalism that lasted very long, poets seem to
\nreturn to the avant-garde, to experiment. There are many good poets I admire
\nand I’d like to make a special mention of Robert G. Elekes. I am very happy
\nbecause I think he was my discovery. I discovered him at the Festival of German
\nLiterature in Resita. Meanwhile he made his debut with a volume that enjoyed a
\ntremendous success, scooping the most important awards.<\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n
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\ncome up with a new poetry book, titled Prettier than Dostoievski. An
\nalert, colloquial dialogue, teeming with puns, political satire, daily
\nobservations and literary references. The content of the book is divided into
\n25 brief scenes, where the running thread is followed in a very subtle way. It
\nis a sentimental story: two women await the arrival of a man they love, a
\nmister T., who must get back to them in full glory from a lion hunting party.
\nEach scene ends with the intervention of the Ancient Choir. The language makes
\nlots of references to expressions and verbal clich\u00e9s, overused today. The
\nvolume is emphatically Dadaist and can be considered as a bold endeavour to
\nrekindle the avant-garde.<\/p>\n
\n
\n
\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"