The doors to another world can be opened, as any subtle human knows. Perhaps in my subconscious, perhaps elsewhere. Choose your first door through one of the navigation buttons and enjoy. Meanwhile, I'm probably writing somewhere beyond one of my doors... Enjoy! M.H. Vesseur
'A speculative fiction of environmental land art created by the famed artists, where they drape tent cloths over a wide stretch of the Sahara to block out the sun, creating a greenhouse effect with climatic effects on the desert biome that hold potential global implications. An interesting piece that combines sci fi speculation with artistic elements to good effect.' Daniel Haeusser in the Skiffy & Fanty podcast, reviewing the Unfit Magazine publication.
Martien Bos turned my short story Impromptu III into this very fine two-page graphic novel. Use the button to view the complete graphic novel.
‘Take the story In Snuff Park by Martin Vesseur. In a cinematographic structure the reader is offered a satirical view of the voyeuristic society of today. The approach is somewhat reminicent of Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction en could with a willing eye be compared to Vernon God Little. But it particularly excels because it is original and contemporary.’ Matthijs Schiffers, Lava 10.3.
‘BUT! Suprisingly there’s two fun stories (yes fun, the word that can under no circumstance be connected to literature, that only dumb people would use, people without sensibilities, who do not appreciate the literary value of a story, and only like it vulgar). In the story ‘F*cking sumo’ by Martin Vesseur the protagonist welcomes us to his website. He starts chattering, but soon mentions his – great word! – pijnwee [translated: a crossing between ‘pain’ and ‘homesick’, meaning ‘longing to go back to the pain’] Soon followed by titles such as ‘My tattoos’, ‘My piercings’ and ‘My forked tongue’.’ Sander Pleij, Vrij Nederland
We all remember fondly the Narcissist Guru, one of our century’s most controversial men, who claimed to have found a way to realise a perfect world and who is, in a way, still with us.
‘Somewhere beyond the sand dunes he floats in nitric acid in a transparent cylinder. The polished walls of his glass coffin act as magnifiers and enlarge his figure. The fierce sunshine and rising water vapours of the desert project his image high in the sky. From miles away the pilgrim can enjoy the figure towering benignly above the desert.’
From the short story Narcissist Guru. Translation by Paul Vincent.