The Kafka Sutra is an accomplished book—thoughtfully put together, formally and linguistically adept, comfortable with a wide range of cultural idioms, responsive to world events.
—The Chicago Review
Kafka meets Kama Sutra meets sex trouble meets pop culture meets fatherhood meets academe and criticism meets glam rock meets literature meets politics—got that all down?—in Robert Archambeau’s bizarre, witty, perspicacious new collection. The writing is supple, oxygen-filled and rigorous. The Kafka Sutra is sometimes even willing to be lovely. It’s also different from anything else you’ve read. And—do you get to say this often about poetry?—it is lots of fun.
In this inviting and brilliant collection, Archambeau mashes up Kafka and the Kama Sutra in a series of hilarious, sexy illustrated narratives. And he writes with enviable wit, playfulness, and nimble erudition. This is a fierce, fun book.
I’m pretty sure I was the only one reading poetry as I waited for my car to be serviced, but certainly I was the one who rocked the other customers out of their torpor with a belly laugh, since I was reading Robert Archambeau’s addictive poems. If you’re heading to the dealership and are looking for brainy, funny lines delivered with a rueful sigh, The Kafka Sutra is definitely the book for you.
Robert Archambeau’s far-ranging mind “riffs on, or remixes, replies to, or makes deeply unfaithful translations of what others have written.” It is all splendidly here, in aces.
Archambeau has a musical technique that keeps life’s surging anarchy personalized through the universally usable Kama Sutra. I’m using it right now!
Archambeau’s absolutely hilarious Kama Sutra spoof made me howl with laughter.
Here, at last, is a book guaranteed not to improve your sex life. I suggest all copies be confiscated and burned.