The translators, one who lives in Brooklyn and the other in Prague, rightly note that Brycz's fiction is "many things--a collection of stories. Of prose-poems. A novel in stories. A series of sketches in the best easterly European tradition of Danilo Kis, or Isaac Babel." Also an impressionistic history, and a postmodern memoir, they might have added. The narrator is the city of Most, an actual city growing up around a chemical plant built by the Nazis and later used by Stalin which which has lasted into contemporary times to "listen to the quite big second coming of Janis Joplinka" and appreciate John Lennon and Wayne Gretzsky. Brycz, born in 1968, lives in Most. "I, City" is his third book. His sinuous, almost bewitching prose captures the blend of anonymity, heterogeneity, vitality, and witness of Most and by extension nearly all cities, as in "I love coffee. It's the vice of the cities. They make it from the night...I only inhaled the coffee from the plastic cup of a man who was sad, because he was drinking filtered coffee, and so he didn't know a thing about his future...."