This novel is about literature and writers – more precisely – unknown and mediocre authors travelling together. A literary association has invited authors of various nationalities to a seminar and the narrative follows their train journey throughout Europe on the Literature Express, a train specially chartered for the seminar. The novel describes the self-absorption of the authors and their inability to communicate with one another. They are portrayed as inward looking and largely disinterested in their fellow travelers’ work. The novel is therefore a reflection on literature and the unsuccessful author. The main character of the story is a Georgian author. At the heart of the novel lies the love story between the Georgian author and his Polish translator’s wife. However, their romance is as unsuccessful as the central protagonist’s attempts at literary success. At the end of the fascinating voyage into Europe, we find out that all authors participating in the seminar are writing their new books on the literature express. Let’s see how the Georgian author will fare…

EXTRACT
Translated into English by Maya Kiasashvili 

Tbilisi
The Russians bombed us in August. Elene broke up with me in September. In October I went to Lisbon.
I knew I’d be taking the Literature Express as early as spring, but I could have never imagined the Russians would shell us in August. Neither had I taken Elene’s threats seriously. I never thought she’d be so adamant. Everything seemed to be happening at the same time. First I was told I was to travel along with 100 writers across Europe, then it looked as if the Russian bombs were about to kill me and finally it transpired I wasn’t such a wingless angel as Elene had believed earlier.
“I’m sorry for the time I wasted on you,” was the last I heard from her. Then she switched off her phone. I sent her two miserable messages and gave up. I didn’t beg or plead with her. The Russian bombs drained me of all energy. But prior to that someone called Koka phoned me, mentioned the Literature Express and summoned me to the Ministry of Culture.
It turned out the Literature Express was actually a train. One hundred writers from various countries were to board it and cross half of Europe over a month.
For some reason the invitation had arrived at the Ministry of Culture. Koka frankly admitted he had thought of me only when the poet Khavtasi (one of our senile ones) refused to go. There were two invitations. Koka told me initially they’d planned to send two poets (apparently, the Minister had said poets would add a certain charm to the entire trip), but then they decided to make place for me, a prose writer. In the end, it was me and a poet chosen for the trip.
It still baffles me how Koka and his superiors had come up with me and not someone else. Whose idea was it to send me to Lisbon? Others have dozens of books published while I’ve got one single collection of short stories... Who considered me a bona fide writer in such a cleptocratic organisation as the Minis42 try? I suspect Koka (who I guess was something like the Deputy Minister) – an effeminate, mildly aggressive provincial with sideburns. Apparently, when I was awarded with the prize (I’ve received a local literature prize for my short stories), he was there at the ceremony, bought my book the next day and enjoyed it tremendously. That’s what he told me... (See PDF)


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