#wit month

[whilereadingandwalking]

My new books in translation section is so beautiful! Organized by region (more or less).

[phaedraismyusername]

Just chucking my 10 pence into the ring for Women in Translation month with a handful of recs on the off chance it'll be of use to someone

The Vegetarian by Han Kang

- a short novel about a Korean woman who decides to become a vegetarian after a bad dream and how the people (mainly men) around her react to the decision and her subsequent spiral into stranger and stranger behaviour.

Convenience Store Woman by Sakaya Murata

- the story follows a neuro-divergent middle aged Japanese woman who loves her job at a convenience store more than anything and just wants to be left alone to do what makes her happy and how the people around her pressure her into conforming to what society expects from her (finding a man, getting a "real job", etc) and how those expectations negatively impact her life.

Fever Dream by Samanta Schweblin

- a strange winding Argentinian novel about a dying woman and a young boy sitting in hospital together and telling stories. I don't really know the best way to sell you on this one other than you'll have to try it to know if you'll like it lol. But if you like a whole lot of weird and appreciate narratives and themes around environmental abuse then this could be for you.

Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica

- another Argentinian book but this time it's just a straight up consumption horror lol. It follows a man who works at an abattoir essentially in a dystopian society where animal meat is now poisonous to people so they've started breeding and mass-processing humans for meat instead. Does what it says on the tin and pulls absolutely no punches in the process lol.

Confessions by Kanae Minato

- an excellent little Japanese thriller. A class room of teenagers are sat down by their teacher on her last day of work to talk about her resignation after her young daughter died in an accident on school grounds, only for her to reveal that she knows that two of the students are responsible for her death, and the steps she's taken to set her revenge into motion. The rest of the book jumps pov every chapter as you watch the consequences ripple out from there.

and last but not least

Vagabonds by Hao Jingfang

- a Chinese sci-fi novel that follows a group of Mars-born teenagers who, after a civil war between planets, have spent their formative years on Earth as delegates and are now returning to Mars and how they deal with that, basically. It's the longest book on this list by far at around 600 pages but the writing is beautiful and the conversations about Mars being a communist ideal while Earth has reached the pinnacle of what capitalism can create are done in a way that doesn't feel at all soapbox-y and feels very fair in exploring the pros and cons of each system. Just an all around excellent book.

[deadpoetsmusings]

reading this book is a reminder (not that we need those) in how our world fails its women again and again and again and again

[womenintranslation]

Black Women in Translation

Wednesday, August 26, 2020 6:00 pm EST

"August is Women in Translation Month, a designated time to explore and celebrate female world authors in English translation.  This year we are moving our celebration online and will host our second annual event on Zoom.  Our focus is Black Women in (English) Translation and will feature works by brave and talented black women authors from Haiti, Senegal, Angola, Somalia and more.  Their books were written and published originally in their native languages of French, Creole, Portuguese, etc. and then later translated into English.  Click here for a suggested reading list. Many of these books are available now or are coming soon to Delray Library."

Event organized by the Delray Beach Public Library, Delray Beach, Florida.

[riverheadbooks]

Women in Translation: Natasha Wimmer

This week’s #WITmonth interview is with famed translator Natasha Wimmer, who is best known for her translations of The Savage Detectives and 2666 by Roberto Bolaño, among many others. Read on to find out what it was like for Natasha to translate Riverhead author Álvaro Enrigue’s psychedelic novel, what catches her eye when she’s looking something new to work on, and more.

Riverhead Books: You translated SUDDEN DEATH by Álvaro Enrigue, which came out in paperback earlier this year. What was the most exciting aspect about translating the book, and what in your opinion was the biggest challenge?

 Natasha Wimmer: SUDDEN DEATH is full of attractions for the translator--it's basically an amusement park ride, language-wise. It requires some familiarity with the vocabulary of the 16th century (which is when it's set), but Álvaro's register is closer to 21st-century baroque. Some of my favorite parts are the passages in which an Álvaro-like narrator addresses the reader directly, reflecting on what kind of book he's trying to write. Most difficult to get right was the made-up language of the Aztec feather worker Diego Huanitzin, whose grandiose, malaprop-ish Spanish is inflected by Nahuatl. But the ongoing tennis match between Francisco de Quevedo and Caravaggio is difficult too, and involved a lot of research into the Renaissance game of real tennis, which is a distant relative of modern tennis.

RB: Briefly explain your process of translating a book, from when a project is first presented to you to when the final version goes to print. How closely do you work with authors?

 NW: Once I've signed on to translate a book, I begin with a quick first draft of a short section, followed by a slow edit, and I proceed that way through the book. Once I have a complete manuscript, I go through the translation again slowly, reading for consistency of voice and addressing any lingering problems.

 I worked closely with Álvaro on SUDDEN DEATH, because he lives in New York, his English is excellent, and he was amenable (in fact, he seemed to relish the process--he added several pages of new material to the English translation). I also worked quite closely with Marcos Giralt Torrente on his memoir, FATHER AND SON. Otherwise, I've worked more independently. I never got the chance to talk to Roberto Bolaño, for example, because he died a few years before I took on THE SAVAGE DETECTIVES.

 RB: What about a book appeals to you that makes you want to translate it?

 NW: In recent years, I've been attracted to fiction that overlaps in some way with nonfiction or memoir. But in general, it's great writing plus a certain sense of urgency or newness.

 RB: Is there a newly released or forthcoming translated book (either one you’re working on or one you’ve heard about) that you’re particularly excited about?

 NW: I translated a book for Harvill Secker that I really love--Gabriela Ybarra's memoir THE DINNER GUEST; it'll be out in the UK in the spring. And Mariana Enriquez's THINGS WE LOST IN THE FIRE (in Megan McDowell's translation) is on my to-read list. I'm also a big fan of Samanta Schweblin (another McDowell translation--she's on a roll! and of course Schweblin is published by Riverhead).

[whilereadingandwalking]

Herostories by Kristín Svava Tómasdóttir, translated from the Icelandic by K.B. Thors, is a novel-in-verse of found poetry, drawn from a history of midwives in Iceland, traversing frigid, brutal climates to help people deliver their babies, both lauded and isolated, both integral to society and outside of it, transgressing the boundaries of gender. It's interesting, and has the Icelandic beside the English as well as an interview and note from the author and translator that is really interesting and enlightening.

[whilereadingandwalking]

Tender Is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica, translated by Sarah Moses, is a sharp, disturbing book about the biopolitics of the regulation of bodies, and about the way that we can use language and fear to justify all kinds of atrocities. The basics: a near-future where a disease has swept through the world's animals, and the only meat on hand is human, so society paints a world with language. They don't eat "people," they eat "head," livestock raised to be eaten, no first-and-last-names. But Marcos, like so many others, can't adjust to this new reality, despite holding an important role at a local processing plant.

I was fascinated by the dark world built by Bazterrica. Marcos is a great protagonist in that he's immensely frustrating, constantly judging others for their consumption in this new world while actively contributing to it. That makes him perfect for this novel, which is all about the banality of evil and the way that it can become entrenched. I was annoyed by a twist about halfway through this novel, but satisfied by its conclusion. What happens when bodies are devalued? This book excellently outlines the power of language and prejudice to define a new world, even in a single generation, of the ability of violence to corrupt even the most resistant souls. And the quiet implications and maybes of the plot are terrifying.

Content warnings for racism, graphic violence, body horror, sexual assault/rape, suicidal ideation/mentions, animal cruelty/death.

[whilereadingandwalking]

I hope to read more of iconic Arab feminist author Nawal El Saadawi in the future, because this one didn't quite do it for me. Two Women in One, translated from the Arabic by Osman Nusairi, describes the inner struggle of Bahiah, a woman who is torn between the person her parents claim she is, and insist she is, and the soul she feels within the body that constrains her.

Early on in the novel, I think I was turned off by how much Bahiah is "not like the others," framing her as an exception that stands out against the other girls of society who simply accept their place in the community. Because of this, I found it cringeworthy that the catalyst for Bahiah finding her place and breaking free of her outer persona (the one who works hard, tries to make her family proud, is on her way to become a doctor, and who doesn't indulge in art or pester her mother with questions about womanhood), is meeting a man, and not just meeting him but having a case of insta-love.

This is a shame because I think while not the most accessible story, this tale of Bahiah struggling with how her physical, female body pins her to a certain role, expectation, and place in the community and world, is relatable and fascinatingly explored. El Saadawi lets Bahiah explore the separation between soul and body, the body as a prison of sorts, that she had no share in choosing or shaping; she wishes she could dissolve, leave her body behind. That exploration is interesting, but ultimately gets buried because all she wants is reunion with Saleem. Perhaps the author wanted to frame Bahiah as a tragedy, a woman who tries to find escape in a man simply because he saw her as more than a body (did he though?), but I don't know if that was the case, and so I was left disappointed.

Content warnings for sexual assault, misogyny, violence.