As an object, the last three books of N. Romanova’s poems are considered: “Atrocity” («Зверство»), “Cannibalism” («Людоедство» –both 2015), “Textbook of literature for morons” («Учебник литературы для придурков», 2019). Her works can be attributed to the St. Petersburg branch of the counterculture. Performative, transgressive “trash poetry” of Romanova is a speech gesture of illocutionary nature. Her “offensive art” violates the norms of decency, common sense, tolerance, and poetic canon. The texts are built as a collage of fragments of discursive practices: fake news, ideological clichés, allusions to the classics, youth jargon of hipsters, vulgarisms and obscene vocabulary. Romanova’s poetry demonstrates the devastation of cultural signs, the grotesque idiocy of the overwhelming mass of consumer society.

This text is a free and intradiegetic interpretation of what took place at dusk on the 15th of February in the city of Giessen, in the German federated state of Hesse, at one of the last conferences of Slavists on the very brink of the pandemic era.

The articles presented in this volume deal with recent poetry and focus on the connection between politics, performativity, and the internet in multiple literatures and intercultural relations. Although the majority of these texts belong to the Russophone world, poetry from Serbia, Latvia, and China is also considered. The contributors demonstrate, on the one hand, how newer poetry softens genre distinctions and formally tends towards multimedia hybridization and, on the other, how it transcends or dissolves linguistic, cultural, and social boundaries.

The essay compares Inger Christensen’s (1935-2009) poetry and poetics with the work of the Swedish writer Birgitta Trotzig (1929-2011). It tests the potential of comparison by asking what happens if we compare what might be the two most prominent women writers of Nordic post-war modernism, two writers whose paths have crossed over the years. The first half of the paper traces a shared constellation of motifs (eye/butterfly/death) within two books of poetry, Trotzig’s “Anima” (1982) and Christensen’s “Sommerfugledalen” (1991). The initial comparison of motifs leads to a shared poetics. It offers a trotzig’ian version of Inger Christensen’s version of the condition of secrecy and fundamental parallels in their philosophy of language and the subject. But it also points to a major difference between the real as a mystic category in Trotzig and Inger Christensen’s more seamless, lucid, and dreamlike style. Advancing further into a stylistic comparison the linguistic and visionary abundancy of Trotzig’s “Anima”-poems reveals an overlooked quality in Christensen’s: That Christensen’s poems are also luxurious, albeit, typically, with moderation. The balancing of sense and sensibility appears by comparison to be a key trait in her poetry, highlighting its classical inclination. The paper demonstrates how comparison makes its subject visible by way of the other, and how comparison points out new nuances or flavors in the texts as it opens a conversation between two major women writers of Nordic modernism.

Departing from Roland Barthes’ association of text and textile, and feminist theory on weaving as text production, this article analyzes the textile qualities of Inger Christensen’s “Letter in April” (1979) and Amalie Smith’s “Thread Ripper” (2020). In “Letter in April”, Christensen establishes a connection between writing and spinning or weaving through their shared temporality of varied repetition. In “Thread Ripper” Smith alludes to Christensen and makes of the continuity between text and textile not only the main theme of the book, but also its structuring principle. Through a materialist conception of the text, regarding it as a woven fabric, the article focuses on the textual patterns of the two works (stylistic figures in Christensen, graphic composition in Smith). The connection from Christensen to Smith leads to a further connection to ecocritical conceptions of weaving as no less than a cosmological principle. On a concluding note, the article argues that weaving is not only connecting, but also disconnecting, cutting.