Lydia Davis is an American writer celebrated for her distinctive short stories, which frequently defy conventional narrative structures. Born in 1947, her work is characterized by its brevity, minimalist prose, precise language, and keen observations of the mundane. She often blurs the line between prose and poetry, with many stories being only a sentence or a paragraph long, cementing her as a pioneer of flash fiction. Davis's writing delves into the intricacies of human thought, language, and perception, often with a subtle, philosophical humor. Beyond her acclaimed fiction, she is a highly respected translator of French literature, having rendered works by Marcel Proust, Gustave Flaubert, and Maurice Blanchot into English.
«The cows: How do the cows know when they have had enough grass? They don't.»
«Almost every day I have to go out and buy something. It is to keep me from staying home.»
«There is a certain pleasure in being able to say that this was the very first time you ever did that.»
Minimalist, precise, experimental, observational, philosophical, fragmented, often humorous, characterized by a focus on language itself and blurring the line between prose and poetry.