Ilija Trojanow ist nicht nur literarischer Weltensammler, sondern auch ausgebildeter Sommelier. Die enge Freundschaft mit einem der führenden Riesling-Weinmacher diente als Inspiration für diese Liebeserklärung an den Wein. Was bedeutet es für unsere Kultur, Wein zu trinken? Wein zu trinken ist ein Dialog, antwortet Trojanow. Mit vielen Partnern. Mit der Zeit. Mit dem Boden. Mit einem Winzer oder einer Winzerin. Mit sich selbst und den unausgeloteten Rätseln des eigenen Geschmacks. Weingenuss ist eine höchst individuelle Erfahrung. Für Ilija Trojanow ist Wein eine Entschädigung für die Vertreibung aus dem Paradies. Ilija Trojanow sinniert über Zeit, Terroir, Natur und Kultur, über Kapital, Geschmack, Verkostung und Rausch. Auf poetische Weise nähert er sich dem Geheimnis des Weins.

Being merciful – what role does this term play in our society today? Or does it no longer play a role at all? In four short essays, Dimitré Dinev investigates this subject. He tells of personal experiences, of beggar-children who were hauled off to the West to serve Capitalism, of a country where people speak of security instead of freedom… Dimitré Dinev illustrates a society that cannot be merciful and confronts it with a person who is willing to take on responsibility. He pointedly beds this responsibility in parable-like stories, questions and striking subjects. “Barmherzigkeit” is the first of the series “Unruhe bewahren”, which was developed in cooperation with the Akademie Graz.

The whole world is buzzing and tweeting, in one way or the other, and this is what this book is about. Franz Schuh, a masterful essayist, looks deeper into the existence of boozers and their veering between the utopia of autonomy and the reality of dependency, proofing that suffering and depravation have a great say in who or what humans are. And if Twitter really played a crucial role in the Arab Spring uprisings, there must be more to it than empty tweeting, right? asks Kathrin Passig. And finally, the question on the links between poetry and birds’ twittering is answered by a double expert: Helwig Brunner is both one of the most important young poets in the German-speaking world and a keen ornithologist.

Theweleit describes the laughter of killers using a selection of case studies, including German soldiers in British prisoner of war camps during WWII, who are said to have told each other about the atrocities they had committed with considerable mirth. The laughter masks another aspect of killing for pleasure however; the cold rationality with which murderers speak when they justify their acts in public. Anders Breivik’s defence in court starts to sound like a statistical analysis of Norwegian immigration figures, for instance. Theweleit’s essay reveals the language of justification as a foil for sadism, because, according to the author’s provocative argument, anything can be ‘justified’; we should avoid believing a word of it.