A bevy of mediocre writers are invited to a seminaraboard a specially chartered train, and this novel tracks their progress acrossEurope: bitter, bickering, and self-absorbed. Aboard this <em>Literature Express</em> is a Georgian author whose love for the wife ofhis own Polish translator seems as doomed as his hopes for internationalsuccess; worse still, it seems all the novelists congregated on <em>The Literature Express </em>intend to writetheir next books about their time on the train . . . Can our Georgian authorcompete? Is there any hope for contemporary literature, or, barring that, atleast his own little love affair? <em>TheLiterature Express</em> is a riotous parable about the state of literaryculture, the European Union, and our own petty ambitions—be they professionalor amorous.