In just over a week, the Nobel committee will announce the winner of the 2025 Nobel Prize for Literature. Just like last year, the honoree will join an elite group of writers from around the world, and a small selection of those writers who we have read, reviewed, and classified as members of Nobel FC: The only Fantasy Football team where the Fantasy is that these people would spend a bunch of free time together playing soccer rather than, you know, talking about books.

Here now is my third annual prep-blogpost for the prize. If you need an explainer on “sports drafts” (book nerds) or “who decides the Nobel Prize for Literature” (sports nerds) take a look at my posts from years gone by and you should be better informed.

So Who Could be “Drafted” This Year?

While about 2 million people published books in the last year alone, the field probably isn’t quite that big: instead eagle-eyed sleuths and prognosticators have developed a system for scrupulously combing the Swedish Academy’s Library databases to find some likely candidates. After reviewing both betting odds and the message boards at worldliteratureforum.com, I am ready to toss out the following 11 candidates based on my own gut instincts.

Last year’s 11 now off the list:

First, the sad news: Ngui Wa Thiong’o of Kenya, who had appeared on the last two lists passed away in May of this year. He was a rare author who wrote in his native African langauge, and was widely beloved. Another African writer who never gained a lot of traction but wrote one of my all time favorite plays Master Harold and The Boys, Athol Fugard of South Africa passed away as well.

Additionally, even though last year’s winner, Han Kang was not on my radar, she still has a clear effect on this list. While betting favorite Can Xue still tops the odds list, it would be extremely unusual for the Nobel to reward the same area (other than Europe) in back-to-back years, and the committee has a recently established streak of awarding things in the same boy, girl, boy, girl order so beloved by Elementary School Gym Teachers. So while Xue was my “will win” pick last year, she’s not even in the top 11 candidates this year. Ditto the popular but similarly geographically disadvantaged Haruki Murakami (sorry millions of people who buy his books, this isn’t about popularity.)

Leading Candidates:

As mentioned above, there’s a clear Boy/Girl/Boy/Girl pattern going on in Sweden’s salons, and while this is vastly preferable to a 25 year jag of nothing but dudes, it does impact the perception of the award. Given the recent parity, the most buzzy names this year belong to men. But the question is what region the Academy will recognize.

Many feel that after adding in a token Asian writer, they will return to familiar European ground while adding linguistic diversity. In that vein, the most likely laureates would probably be Romanian novelist Mircea Cartarescu or Hungary’s Laszlo Krasznahorkai (who is a new name on our list) and seems to be consistently buzzed about as a guaranteed future winner. After reading short-stories from each, these writers struck me as similar to Jon Fosse, though Cartacescu felt more estranged from reality, and Krasznahorkai seemed truly depressing. Europeans are usually a good bet, but I’m not sold.

The other option would be to keep globetrotting and approaching a few regions that could use some more love. For example: the Arab world is often overlooked as a slice of land that’s not quite Asia but not quite Africa either. There hasn’t been a winner from the Arab world since 1988, so Syrian poet and frequent betting pool favorite Adonis (aka Ali Ahmad Said Esber) would make a lot of sense as an overdue honoree. What I’ve read of Adonis has made me think his style is a good match with other recent winners (very fluid and stream of conscious) but less dark and dire than other writers I’ve named. At 95, it’s hard to tell if the Academy will deem him too old to travel for the prize or be motivated to finally give it to him.

But you can also make the case that no Australian has ever won (Sure, Patrick White (1973) lived there, but given his upper-crust English heritage and education…that’s a selective choice). Gerald Murnane has popped up on several lists as a worthy and true Aussie, fair dinkum. I finished his A Season on Earth a month or so ago and found his interior monologue reverie style to be perfectly in keeping with recent winners even if some passages grated like an overwrought Holden Caufield.

Other Candidates

The final region worth mentioning would be the Hispanophone world. As South America and the Spanish language has not seen a winner since 2010, they fit “geographic region rotation” logic. But I’m struggling to see a consensus winner. Two writers in the top 5 of betting pools fit the bill, but as one’s a woman and the other’s from Spain, I’m going to look elsewhere. One buzzy candidate at longer odds is Argentina’s Cesar Aira. He was kept in the wings of my list last year, but I’m adding him in this year after finding some kooky and odd bits in his writing (which apparently, he never edits…which is a look). And while I considered dropping Homero Aridjis, a widely appreciated poet/environmentalist from Mexico who is even farther down the odds list, I’ve grown too fond of him in my three years of this project (but I freely acknowledge that’s more my stubbornness than popular opinion).

Without Murakami on the list, the biggest name out there is probably Slaman Rushdie despite his recent decline in critical acclimations, a career retrospective award could make sense (see Hemmingway, Ernest). Thomas Pynchon‘s another name from the New York Times’ Best Seller list (and above Rushdie in many of the betting pools) but as I actually read a work of his this year (Inherent Vice) I’m wildly underwhelmed and certainly won’t put him in my top choices.

The same could be said of other writers recently on top of the pools who have fallen a bit but can’t be totally discounted. Canadian Anne Carson has a broad appeal and parcel of awards while anti-Putin Russian author Lyudmila Ulitskaya may have faded from public consciousness as the autocrat digs in but remains a powerful read. (I read Ulitskaya’s Funeral Party this year and found it a great distillation of expatriate experiences (“[The USA] hated suffering; it rejected it ontologically, admitting it only as an instant which must be instantly eradicated“) full of funny jabs at home culture (“the finest monument to Soviet power was an empty pedestal“) and romantic foibles (“over time the small sums [she loaned her lover] grew unnoticed, like children“). Her slide may be owed to her gender, or the less lyrical, florid style that has been popular among recent winners, but I still want to shout her out.

After compiling a list of likely candidates who match the common leading contender profiles, I’m opting for Caribbean author Caryl Phillips whose fluid writing touches on a wide array of topics and especially delves into issues of race. One factor that’s also worth noting, locals who share the Swedish academy’s library reported that suddenly Phillips’ works were all checked out at once…perhaps because he was being seriously considered for the prize.

Left Out of the Line up (no points to me if they win)

Injured–have been in the 11, but aren’t there now: Can Xue, Haruki Murakami, Pierre Michon, Helene Cixous

On Bench: Good writers widely recognized (and highly touted by the odds) that I haven’t included yet Michael Oondjaate, Peter Nadas, Colm Tobin, Cristina Rivera Garza, Enrique Vila-Matas, Vladimir Sorokin, Botho Strauss, David Grossman, Antonio Lobo Antunes, Ibrahim Al Koni and Tahar Ben Jelloun.

On Loan: Names that might make big noise soon, but are still betting pool long shots: Louise Erdrich, Linton Kwesi Johnson, Percival Everett, Yan Lianke, Mohamed Mbougar Sarr, Javier Cercas

Analysis: Who will it be? Who should it be?

In articles analysing a team’s draft-day decisions, writers look at two things. What they think the team leaders will do, and what the author themselves would do if they had a chance.

This year I’ve made an effort to expand my reading of the potential honorees going through whole books by a few (Thomas Pynchon, Lyudmila Ulitskaya, Javier Cercas, and Gerald Murnane) and here is my earnest evaluation.

The Academy Will Pick

The last two years I’ve done this, the Swedish Academy has continued to prioritize authors with something artistic to offer in their work, primarily through stream of conscious and fluid prose poetry. They have also been doggedly consistent in their “boy/girl” alternating since 2017, and while they could truly drive to parity by picking only women for the next 87 years, I don’t see that happening now.

So I think they will pick: Syrian Poet Adonis. I think his writing speaks for itself, and he has long been considered a contender for the prize which arguably makes this an overdue award. At the same time, I don’t think it’s just a matter of finally throwing him a bone. Politically the moment is ripe with Syria emerging from a dictatorship, and a 95 year old with a broad and significant body of work balancing out 53 year old Han Kang’s win for youthful promise.

Honorable mentions: Gerald Murnane, Mircera Cartarescu

I Would Pick

I’m not quite so hidebound as the committee and I’d really rather prioritize looking beyond the common-sphere of Nobel winners (ie Western Europe/America and white men). A more diverse writer with a point of view that connects to the wider world would be the ideal for me. Artistry is something I think lies in the eye of the beholder, so better to be clear than artful in my eyes.

As time in this project has gone on, I’ve come to accept that I’m a bit of a Basic Bookworm, with little tolerance for artistic writing for art’s sake. I prefer clarity and focus in writing, and so, even though he’s been entrenched for two years as my best writer available, I’m standing with Homero Aridjis. Come at me.

Honorable Mentions: Salman Rushdie (I still think of him as an Indian writer despite his increasingly American identity) and Caryl Phillips

Chaos Pick

Here’s a totally left field suggestion: Japanese animator/story teller: Hayao Miyazaki. Plenty of folks will get up in arms about a film maker and an artist getting awarded, but if literature is “written work” not “published books”–then he counts. Add in his fierce opposition to AI and he could be a bit of a statement (even if he would double up East Asia’s wins)

Who would you pick?

Leave a comment below, please, there’s dozens of you who will talk about this, so I’m just going to keep begging for you to comment with your pick.

Next Time…I rush to judgement on whomever our winner is László Krasznahorkai

Given the repetition of 11s in this site, I wanted to see how soon I can hit 11 points with

• 5 points if I correctly predict either on the *will win*, should win, or chaos pick
• 2 points if they’re on either “honorable mentions” list
• 1 if they’re in my 11 top candidates—Krasznahorkai fits here so 1 more point to me

Nonsense Point total: (was) 2/11… (now) 3/11

For an added Challenge, I’m also going to award points to the Universe for the other side of the coin

• 1 point if the winner is in one of my “left out of the line up” lists
• 2 points if they aren’t on that list but are within 25/1 on the odds
• 5 points if they are outside of 25/1 odds

…and since I got points for 2023 and 2025, I shouldn’t omit 2024’s winner. So congrats Universe, the unexpected Han Kang pick nets you 5 points and gives you the lead…for now.

You can join in this too! I will keep pleading for comments until I get them.

Background

Harold Pinter grew up in a thoroughly middle-class family, but like most kids in London fell in love with an active and physical sports scene. Unfortunately for the purpose of this Soccer/Literature/Life Lesson mash-up of a blog, he was more deeply invested in Cricket. (Don’t worry, I will not try to squeeze Nobel winners onto a Cricket side…although maybe if I get my head around enough Booker Prize winners…)

Pinter’s physicality and directness translated pretty clearly into his work. He started as an actor, then became a writer, and ultimately seemed to do just about everything there was to do in putting on a show short of selling salted nuts at intermission. His wide and varied work became a critical building block for modern drama and ultimately earned him the Nobel in 2005 for how his work “uncovers the precipice under everyday prattle and forces entry into oppression’s closed rooms.”

Works

Ben: If I say go and light the kettle I mean go and light the kettle.
Gus: How can you light a kettle?
Ben: It’s a figure of speech! Light the kettle. It’s a figure of speech!
Gus: I’ve never heard it…I think you’ve got it wrong…They say put on the kettle.

–The Dumbwaiter

Jerry:  Listen to me [Emma]. It’s true. Listen. You overwhelm me. You’re so lovely. You’re so beautiful. Look at the way you’re looking at me. Look at the way you’re looking at me. I can’t wait for you. I’m bowled over, I’m totally knocked out, you dazzle me, you jewel, my jewel, I can’t ever sleep again, no, listen, it’s the truth, I won’t walk, I’ll be a cripple, I’ll descend, I’ll diminish, into total paralysis, my life is in your hands, that’s what you’re banishing me to, a state of catatonia, do you know the state of catatonia? Do you? Do you? The state of … where the reigning prince is the prince of emptiness, the prince of absence, the prince of desolation.

–Betrayal

We blew them into f***ing sh**
They are eating it.

Praise the Lord for all good things.

We blew their ****s into shards of dust,
Into shards of f***ing dust.

We did it.

Now I want you to come over here
and kiss me on the mouth”

–American Football

Message

Pinter is absolutely political, incisive, and direct. Yet he also revels in silences, quiet, and absurdist humor. There are no shortage of lessons and influences that he has had in theater and film. To pick one key lesson from the many on offer, I feel a clear resonance with the idea that what we say, and what we omit is both our greatest weapon and our only defense.

Position: #9 Striker

While I hate to disagree with a very funny Vice article that connects Pinter to legendary defensive manager/egomaniac Jose Mourinho (while also taking a swipe at Manchester City as the Andrew Lloyd Weber of British Soccer), to me Pinter is absolutely an attacking player. Unlike many other dramatists who I have slotted into the creative midfield role, Pinter’s sharpness and wit (and less overt reliance on stage directions to manipulate every moment of the story) feels more appropriate for a striker. I had a brief pause considering how frequently he enjoys leaving out clear endings (given that striker goals are always a clear end point), but perhaps he’s more of a chaos agent striker (like Diego Costa or Darwin Nunez). (84-88?)

Next Time, I’m feeling like I’m on such a role, let’s knock off some laureates I’ve missed!! Let’s read the OG Nobel Winner: Sully Prudhomme!

Background

Claude Simon was born in Madagascar, but is clearly French through and through. His family was part of the colonial service in Africa and returned to France after his father’s death for his education. Simon showed a great aptitude and studied in Paris, Oxford, and Cambridge. But not being satisfied with an academic life, Simon travelled to Spain to fight in the Spanish Civil War, and then joined the French Army at the outbreak of World War II.

His experiences with war and death deeply affected and influenced his writing. He is often cited as a prime example of the French Nouveau Roman (or new novel) which emphasized clear chronological story telling with distinct narrators. (That influential style has garnered a sizeable number of awards and multiple Nobels.) Simon’s Nobel citation specifically mentioned how he, “combines the poet’s and the painter’s creativeness with a deepened awareness of time in the depiction of the human condition.”

Works

I read his most popular novel: The Flanders Road (or La Route des Flanders) a hefty tome with Simon’s trademark “1,000 word sentences” (That’s not an exaggeration…maybe its an understatement). Here were a few pieces that stood out.

“..war and commerce had always been–one as much as the other–merely the expression of [people’s] rapacity and that rapacity itself was the consequence of the ancestral terror of hunger and death, which meant that killing robbing pillaging and selling were actually only one and the same thing a simple need the need to reassure onesself, like children whistling or singing loud to keep their courage up crossing through the woods at night…”–p. 40

“The turf was speckled and soiled by thousands of betting tickets lost like so many tiny stillborn corpses of dreams and hopes (the marriage not of heaven and earth but of earth and man, leaving it soiled by the persistence of that residue, of that kind of giant and fetal pollution of tiny furiously torn scraps of paper), long after the last hose had kicked up the last clod of turf and had left”—p. 159

Message

It’s been awfully hard to understand much of Simon’s writing as it dwelled on parentheticals and prepositions so much that Flanders Road seems to mostly consist of digressions about how cool horses are. But mixing that with the absurdity of war and more than a little reflection on relationships (both familial and romantic) I’d say he’s taking a position that: attempts to control (others, nature, war) are futile.

(Hopefully he would appreciate the parenthetical in my answer there.)

Position: #3 Left Back

Claude Simon is another entry in an increasingly common trend that I’ve noticed in these reading assignments: chaotic energy and the fullback position.

Like Elfriede Jelinek, he is prone to the mass of text shoveled together, and a combination of ruthless aggression and aimless meandering that would suit a player who pushes up with the attack and charges back when needed. The biggest difference I see between Simon and others like him (including Frederic Mistral and Johannes Jennsen) is that his moments of brilliance are more random and less coherent, while his other work seems more likely to induce disbelief and confusion rather than joy or appreciation.

So let’s hear from our Nouveau Roman afficianados. What makes Simon so stellar? Am I right to see him as a more random Samuel Beckett, or is there a method to his madness? Oh and fullbacks of the world, you can also chime in to tell me if I’ve misunderstood your position…or you’d rather be compared with some traditional poetry instead of the chaos agents I’ve assigned you thus far.

Next Time, 2005 Honoree: Harold Pinter

Background

Mikhail Sholokov is another in the long line of Eastern European writers who I had never heard about before starting this project because, well, that’s how Western education rolls. Sholokov was born in a rural portion of Russia known as “the Don” after the local river. That was about all he seemed to need in life. He fought in the army, made powerful friends, but his life and his work eternally revolved around his humble farmland beginnings and everyone around him.

However, those powerful friends and patrons push him into a slightly different realm that he might have liked. One of Sholokov’s friends was Joseph Stalin (who made time for some light reading while organizing a despotic regime that murdered approximately 9 Million critics and opponents). Sholokov used his influence with old Joe to earn concessions for his community, justice for persecuted neighbors, and punishment for the corrupt (and in one case–defending the local XI from having their best player abducted by CSKA Moscow). However, he didn’t exactly kick up a fuss about the wider injustices (if it wasn’t in the Don, for Sholokov, it wasn’t on). It’s hard to tell whether his closeness with Stalin encouraged soviet government, newspapers and schools to lift him up to the position of a laureate, or if those who opposed Stalin kept him off of shelves and confined to a controversial corner where he was accused of plagiarism.

Either way, Sholokov won the 1965 Nobel Prize for giving “expression to a historic phase in the life of the Russian people” through his work Quiet Flows the Don.

Works

From “Family Man” a short story of a father who fought with the Tsar’s forces against his own sons who had left home to join the Soviets. In this scene, the father Mikishara narrates what happens when he finds his son as a prisoner of war among his own battalion.

“The Cossacks roar with laughter.

” ‘Make them soak in their own blood Mikishara! It is obvious you’re taking pity on him, on your own Danilka. Strike him again or we’ll make your blood flow!’

“The captain came out on the porch; he was swearing but his eyes were laughing. When they began to slash them with their bayonets, my heart couldn’t bear it. I started running down the street. I looked back and saw them rolling my Danilushka on the ground. The sergeant stuck his bayonet in his throat but only Khrr came out”

Message

In both his work and his life, Sholokov’s devotion and dedication to Cossaks on the Don (both good and bad) brings to mind so many specifics that outsiders are left only to observe and ponder the culture. If I were to extrapolate that out into a message I might say “Live locally. It’s the immediate that matters.”

Position: #4 Center Back

There’s a lot in the plot of Quiet Flows the Don that reminds me of Tolstoy’s epics, albeit without the bourgeoise or occasional redeeming features of the protagonist. To be fair, I watched the 1957 adaptation rather than reading the book, but in small selections and a conversation with a former Russian student it sure seems to be an accurate adaptation of both tone and characters. With that Tolstoy-lite label and the uncertainty over his authorship or willingness to approve of Stalin’s worst traits, I’m left shrugging. Sholokov would clearly care about defending his territory, but he also seems like a player who has the unswerving allegiance of the coach without a whole lot of reason why.

So there you have it, an ultra HOT TAKE (about an author who has been dead for forty years). Feel free to challenge me in the comments below. (Also, I know that my numbers/colors aren’t matching for Sholokov…but until such time as someone tells me it matters, I’m going to show myself some grace and let it be)

Next Time, 1985 Honoree Claude Simon

Hooray a representative of Africa! And he’s…no…wait…white again.

Background

Gabriela Mistral started out as a girl in the small Chilean village of Montegrande. Or rather, Lucia Godoy Alcayaga did. Lucia didn’t become Gabriela until afteer she turned 19 and began to publish regularly. She chose to take the pseudonym that honored her favorite poets: Gabrielle D’Anunzio and Frederic Mistral (HEY! We know him!)

Unsurprisingly, poetry didn’t pay the bills at first and she began a teaching career (so there’s hope for me to write one of these about myself yet). As a teacher Mistral ran across another young Chilean poet who will get his own entry in a few years: Pablo Neruda. When her renown as a poet grew, she left the classrooms and entered a variety of embassies all around the word. (Which was probably for hte best given Chile’s history of brutal dictatorships…distance was probably for the best).

Living the rest of her life as an exile, she did make good friends in a variety of literary circles until 1945 when she became the first Latin American to become a literature laureate “for her lyric poetry which, inspired by powerful emotions, has made her name a symbol of the idealistic aspirations of the entire Latin American world”.

Works

All selections taken from Mistral’s Madwomen collection–translated by Randall Couch

“When I walk all the things
of the earth awaken,
and they rise up and whisper
and it’s their stories that they tell.

And the peoples who wander
leave them for me on the road
and I gather them where they’ve fallen
in cocoons made of footprints

Stories run through my body,
or purr in my lap.
They buzz, boil, and bee-drone
They come to me uncalled
and don’t leave once told.”

—“The Storyteller”

“In a whirlwind she would rule
over meals and linens
the winepress and beehives
the minute, the hour and the day…

And wherever they went, all things
voiced a wounded cry to her:
crockery, latches, doors,
as to their bellweather;
and for her sister they grew hushed,
spinning tears and Ave Maria”

–Martha and Mary

Message

In an evergreen theme, Mistral’s topic throughout her Madwomen’s poems seems to challenge the presumptions endemic to humanity. To all the men in government, academia, literature and life write large the women who would be named “the poet of motherhood” seems to say “there’s more complexity in our lives than you are ready to behold”

Position: #6 Defensive Midfield

Like thee friend she made on her diplomatic tour, WB Yeats, Mistral seems to have a split view of the craft. She keeps one foot in the past with her style, structure and symbolism, and another foot on the gas with novel and innovative themes and expressions. To my mind that makes her a good choice for a defensive midfielder. She’s absolutely valuable, but a little too stiff for my tastes.

Try as I might to read this in Spanish most of the ideas slipped through my fourth grade level understanding of the language. If you have a different point of view or would encourage me to read another translation, let me know in the comments below.

Next Time, 1965 Honoree Mikhail Sholokov

Background

George Bernard Shaw is one of the true rarities in this project. A long and fruitful career writing, primarily, comedies! Despite his strength in the genre, his childhood was not a laugh riot. Shaw and his family dealt with numbing poverty and deep loss, but Shaw found a way to educate himself by lurking in museums and reading rooms in Dublin and then London before becoming a writer.

While his novels never gained a footing, his time as an art and drama critic gave him great insight into the revolution on the stage started by Henrik Ibsen in Norway. Soon, he was writing his own dramas and filling theaters in London. From there he began a long and storied career as a critic, wit, essayist, and thinker, capturing much of the old world and its conflict with the modern replacement

Works

Soldiering, my dear madam, is the coward’s art of attacking mercilessly when you are strong, and keeping out of harm’s way when you are weak.

–Arms and the Man

The worst sin towards our fellow creatures is not to hate them, but to be indifferent to them: that’s the essence of inhumanity.

—The Devil’s Disciple

Message

As someone who often felt a bit out of step with the educated and wealthy elites he joined, Shaw certainly had a pattern. In the works I read (slash listened to thanks to great series of plays from LA Theater works), and those I know from years of being a nerd, Shaw loves a story where a privileged few see their world and sense of self upended by an outsider: the enemy soldier in Arms and the Man; the prodigal son in The Devil’s Disciple; the cockney flower girl who rises in society in Pygmalion (or its more famous adaptation: My Fair Lady); or, my favorite example, the Polish daredevil who literally crash lands in an English greenhouse (Misalliance). In all these, his overarching theme seems to be outsiders often understand our communities better than we do.

How exactly he could write so many texts with the same theme and yet be a supporter of genocide and antisemitic, I don’t know.

Position: #10 Attacking Midfield

Like his fellow playwright, big thinker, and questionable human, Jean-Paul Sartre, I would slot Shaw as a #10 creative attacking midfielder. Naturally, dramatists have a tendency to control all the action and make suggestions for everything that happens in the story (even if living people bring it to life). Shaw also checks boxes as a creative and crowd pleasing talent, even if he does have some pretty clear tendancies and habits. Clearly, Shaw gets aggressive in how he skewers the rich and powerful, a style born out in his preferred sport (not soccer but boxing).

To be frank, I rated Shaw’s strength in midfield before I found out about his political…uh…jackassery. But I think the ranking holds as his work as a writer undercuts his own views (rather than amplifying his worst opinions…looking at you Wladyslaw Reymont).

If you’d like to dispute this, my standing offer to join the conversation stands. Comment below if Shaw should step up to the top of the midfielder rankings or slide more than I considered.

Next Time, 1945 Honoree Gabriela Mistral