Felix Meran
Stories and Reflections from the Borderlands of Normality
A new god for the ants, 324 footnotes with no novel to hold them, a buttonhole with residual metaphysical warmth, a night with Oscar Wilde, a cookbook for endangered species and a management theory based on personality disorders.
Felix Meran writes about things that were never meant to happen. A motorcycle with a banana that alters the course of history. A civil servant in the ether department. A cathedral of concealed flatulence. The question of whether talent might be a kind of duty. And somewhere nearby, 41 witty old Hungarian proverbs gather themselves into a novel and behave as if this were perfectly normal.
Felix Meran is a late bloomer, a writer who channels Hemingway and John Irving, reimagines Austrian icon Herzmanovsky-Orlando and still sounds entirely like himself. Somewhere between footnote and grand theory.
