The Shackles of the Tongue: A Quiet Tyranny Language is often described as a gift — the mother tongue, a homeland of thought. But for most writers on this planet, language has functioned as something else entirely: a velvet prison. It embraces you with its intimacy, but bars you…

Milan Kundera, student, born 1 April 1929 in Brno, resident of Prague VII, student housing, King Jiří VI Street, appeared today at the local police precinct and made a statement concerning Iva Militka, a student living in the same building... With these dry and faceless lines –…

„Hello,“ said someone behind him, and he nearly slipped off the seat of the worn, spinning chair – his faithful comrade in the endless battle with words. He turned slowly, cursing the pain in his neck that no longer allowed faster movements. The blurred figure across from him…

What awful luck! Just moments ago, the weather had been glorious, but now, as if from nowhere, thick, dark clouds had gathered, swiftly blotting out the sky with an ominous speed. The wind grew stronger and stronger. The trees and bushes in the garden bent and groaned under its…