“Recently, Central Europe has played host to a new generation of expatriate writers and, some believe, has once again become the displaced kingdom of some of the greatest prose and prose-writers – this time, in English. But outsiders toting backpacks and wielding Platinum Plus cards aren’t the right kind of outsiders for literature. They’re a Mercedes-length from the edge, and literature needs someone on the precipice. It’s dangerous on that precipice, but the danger, well, illuminates the prose. And there’s no more of that danger left in this Europe, once again at the edge of Empire.”