Bruce Benderson Book order (chronological)

He was passing by, she kissed him without thinking. Now she wonders whether she did the right thing. But Natalie isn't certain of anything anymore. One minute she was a happily married young woman, successful in her career, and convinced the future was full of promise. But when her husband was run over by a car, her whole world was turned upside down. Years later, still bruised with grief but desperate to move on with her life, she impulsively kisses her colleague Marcus. For Natalie, the kiss is just a gratuitous act. For the awkward, unassuming Marcus, it is the moment at which he falls hopelessly, helplessly in love. But how will he ever convince such a beautiful, intelligent but confused young woman that he is the man who can bring her back to life?

'History follows a trail of sputtering desire, often calling upon the delusions of lovers to generate the sparks. If it weren't for us, the world would suffer from a dismal lack of stories.' In this brutally candid memoir, writer, translator and journalist Bruce Benderson recounts his unrequited love for an impoverished Romanian whom he meets while on a journalism assignment in Eastern Europe. Rather than retreat, Benderson absorbs everything he can about Romania, its culture and its history and discovers a mirror in it for his own turmoil: the wild affairs of its last king, Carol II. Free of bitterness, nastiness, or any desire to protect himself, he is sustained throughout by little white codeine pills, a poetic self-awareness, a sense of humor, and an unwavering belief in the perfect romance, even as wild dogs chase him down Romanian streets.

Le poing d'Apollo qui s'écrase sur le visage du videur du théâtre porno où il exerce ses talents très spéciaux marque la fin d'une époque, l'âge d'or de l'empire du vice à Times Square. Le videur est grièvement blessé. C'est le point de départ d'une cavale dans un monde interlope sur le déclin, où Apollo fait figure d'ange d'échu : fumeries de crack et boîtes semi-clandestnes peuplées de travelos, filles perdues, loubards des minorités ethniques et petits-bourgeois blancs. Ils se mêlent et se croisent, passé minuit, dans le NO MAN'S LAND de la prostitution et de la drogue. " Roman de la nuit, incandescent et frénétique, qui s'achève en forme de chant funèbre dans l'éclat déchirant des premières lueurs du jour. " LE MONDE