A brilliant new translation of a classic work on violence and revolution as seen through mythology and art

The Ruin of Kasch takes up two subjects--the first is Talleyrand, and the second is everything else, wrote Italo Calvino when the book first appeared in 1983. Hailed as one of those rare books that persuade us to see our entire civilization in a new light, its guide is the French statesman Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand, who knew the secrets of the ancien régime and all that came after, and was able to adapt the notion of legitimacy to the modern age. Roberto Calasso follows him through a vast gallery of scenes set immediately before and after the French Revolution, making occasional forays backward and forward in time, from Vedic India to the porticoes of the Palais-Royal and to the killing fields of Pol Pot, with appearances by Goethe and Marie Antoinette, Napoleon and Marx, Walter Benjamin and Chateaubriand. At the center stands the story of the ruin of Kasch, a legendary kingdom based on the ritual killing of the king and emblematic of the ruin of ancient and modern regimes.

Offered here in a new translation by Richard Dixon, The Ruin of Kasch is, as John Banville wrote, a great fat jewel-box of a book, gleaming with obscure treasures.

What ensues is not an explanation, but an unveiling. Here are the stories of the creation of mind and matter; of the origin of Death, of the first sexual union and the first parricide. We learn why Siva must carry his father's skull, why snakes have forked tongues, and why, as part of a certain sacrifice, the king's wife must copulate with a dead horse. A tour de force of scholarship and seduction, Ka is irresistible.

A book that begins before Adam and ends after us. In this magisterial work by the Italian intellectual superstar Roberto Calasso, figures of the Bible and its whole outline emerge in a new light: one that is often astonishing and disquieting, as indeed--more than any other--is the book from which they originate.

Roberto Calasso's The Book of All Books is a narration that moves through the Bible as if through a forest, where every branch--every verse--may offer some revelation. Where a man named Saul becomes the first king of a people because his father sent him off to search for some donkeys that had gone astray. Where, in answer to an invitation from Jerusalem's king, the queen of a remote African realm spends three years leading a long caravan of young men, girls dressed in purple, and animals, and with large quantities of spices, to ask the king certain questions. And where a man named Abraham hears these words from a divine voice: Go away from your land, from your country and from the house of your father toward the land that I will show you--words that reverberate throughout the Bible, a story about a separation and a promise followed by many other separations and promises.

The Book of All Books, the tenth part of a series, parallels in many ways the second part, The Marriage of Cadmus and Harmony. There, gods and heroes of the Greek myths revealed new physiognomies, whereas here the age-old figures and stories of the Bible are illuminated anew.

From the banishment of the classical divinities during the Age of Reason to their emancipation by the Romantics and their place in the literature of our own time, the history of the gods can also be read as a ciphered and splendid history of literary inspiration. Rewriting that story, Calasso carves out a sacred space for literature where the presence of the gods is discernible. His inquiry into the nature of absolute literature transports us to the realms of Dionysus and Orpheus, Baudelaire and Mallarm , and prompts a lucid and impassioned defense of poetic form, even when apparently severed from any social function. Lyrical and assured, Literature and the Gods is an intensely engaging work of literary affirmation that deserves to be read alongside the masterpieces it celebrates.

Roberto Calasso, a literary institution of one (The Paris Review), tells the story of the eternal life of Utnapishtim, the savior of man, in the eleventh part of his great literary project.

A long time ago, the gods grew tired of humans, who were making too much noise and disturbing their sleep, and they decided to send a Flood to destroy them. But Ea, the god of fresh underground water, didn't agree and advised one of his favorite mortals, Utnapishtim, to build a quadrangular boat to house humans and animals. So Utnapishtim saved living creatures from the Flood.

Rather than punish Utnapishtim, Enlil, king of the gods, granted him eternal life and banished him to the island of Dilmun. Thousands of years later, Sindbad the Sailor is shipwrecked on that very same island, and the two begin a conversation about courage, loss, salvation, and sacrifice.

What Utnapishtim tells Sindbad is the subject of this book, the eleventh part of Roberto Calasso's great opus that began in 1983 with The Ruin of Kasch. The Tablet of Destinies, a continuous narrative from beginning to end, delves into our earliest mythologies and records the origin stories of human civilization.

A decisive key to help grasp some of the essential points of what is happening around us.

The ninth part of Roberto Calasso's masterwork, The Unnamable Present, is closely connected with themes of the first book, The Ruin of Kasch (originally published in 1983, and reissued by FSG in a new translation). But while Kasch is an enlightened exploration of modernity, The Unnamable Present propels us into the twenty first century.

Tourists, terrorists, secularists, fundamentalists, hackers, transhumanists, algorithmicians: these are all tribes that inhabit the unnamable present and act on its nervous system. This is a world that seems to have no living past, but was foreshadowed in the period between 1933 and 1945, when everything appeared bent on self-annihilation. The Unnamable Present is a meditation on the obscure and ubiquitous process of transformation happening today in all societies, which makes so many previous names either inadequate or misleading or a parody of what they used to mean.

Translated with sensitivity by Calasso's longtime translator, Richard Dixon, The Unnamable Present is a strikingly original and provocative vision of our times, from the writer The Paris Review called a literary institution of one.

What are Kafka's fictions about? Are they dreams? Allegories? Symbols? Countless answers have been offered, but the essential mystery remains intact. Setting out on his own exploration, Roberto Calasso enters the flow, the tortuous movement, the physiology of Kafka's work to discover why K. and Josef K.-the protagonists of The Castle and The Trial-are so radically different from any other character in the history of the novel, and to determine who, in the end, is K. The culmination of Calasso's lifelong fascination with Kafka's work, K. is also an unprecedented consideration of the mystery of Kafka himself.

An interior look at Roberto Calasso's work as a publisher and his reflections on the art of book publishing

In this illuminating volume, Roberto Calasso reflects on more than half a century of distinguished literary publishing at Adelphi Edizioni in Milan. Part merchant, part circus impresario, the publisher has always been considered with a certain mistrust, like a clever huckster, Calasso writes, and yet publisher may also be one of the most prestigious titles around.

Recalling the beginnings of Adelphi in the 1960s, Calasso touches on the house's defining qualities and its strategy of publishing a wide range of authors of high literary quality. Stepping back, he then considers the publishing industry as a whole, bringing his signature erudition and grasp of literary history to bear on various aspects of the enterprise. From the vital importance of jackets, design, and cover flaps to the consequences of universal digitization, Calasso offers a penetrating study of the industry and an essential survey of twentieth-century literature.

A daring defense of an industry in flux and an ode to publishers who devote themselves to good books, The Art of the Publisher makes an insider's case for publishing as a singular artistic form. An essential collection for writers, readers, and editors, it is a tribute to the age-old art of making books.