September 30, 2015 § 2 Comments
A little over a week I was at the Brooklyn Festival. The weather was beautiful – a warm and windy Fall day. Due to the construction happening around Borough Hall everything was a little more spread out this year. The Hall’s grand steps, featured in every article about the festival and usually completely filled with people, stood empty behind a chain link fence. Food trucks were parked in front of the Cadman Plaza Post Office, a little farther down than their normal spots. The Post Office steps functioned as an al fresco dining area where Lori, my Festival buddy, and I enjoyed some delicious (if overpriced) empanadas mid-day. The new set-up also utilized a section of park around the Korean War Memorial which usually stands empty, filling it with the booths belonging to the smaller literary magazines. I liked it. In fact, I hope they continue using it next year – hopefully moving the booths out of the too narrow, sad walkway adjacent to the Courthouse that no one really likes.
After several years of attendance one thing I’ve learned is that the moderator has the ability to make or break a panel. This was painfully reinforced at Darkness & Light – a panel which featured an extraordinary line-up of international authors: Naja Marie Aidt (Denmark), László Krasznahorkai (Hungary) & Andrés Neuman (Argentina/Spain). Krasznahorkai, I can’t be alone in believing, will eventually win the Nobel. Which adds a certain prestige to the whole enterprise. People develop expectations. Which is why the moderator must have been a last minute substitution, after the original moderator was struck down with cholera or the bubonic plague. That’s the only logical explanation. Because it was immediately clear he hadn’t read any of the authors’ books. In fact, he did everything to avoid talking about them altogether. Instead he followed a painful line of questions which included reading aloud Genesis 1:3 and asking the panelists to comment (because Europeans don’t feel Americans are religious enough); discussing the length of daylight in the different time zones where they are from; and ENDING the panel by having them talk about whether they felt print books vs. digital readers (which have built in light sources – he actually included that as a qualifier) were effecting how they wrote and/or how their books were enjoyed. The panel is called light and dark, get it??? You think it’s a metaphor – but noooo, he meant it literally. SURPRISE!
No rotten fruit was available to the audience, and I’d already eaten my empanadas. And so this madness was allowed to play out unchecked.
Each author did give a brief reading at the beginning, before anyone realized what was in store. László chose to read his passage first in English and then, movingly, in Hungarian. Most of the audience questions were, not surprisingly, directed at László and mostly pertained to his work in film. Luckily, Neuman and Aidt were on other panels later in the day. And Laszlo did sign my copies of Satantango & Seiobo There Below afterwards – one personalized to me and the other to my husband. If, after that, you still feel you might have missed something the video of the panel is up on YouTube for your viewing pleasure.
On the other end of the spectrum – as wonderful as the before mentioned panel was terrible – The New Latin American Literature: A View From Within had an incredible line-up of authors. Yuri Herrera, Valeria Luiselli, Guadalupe Nettel, Andrés Neuman (again) and Alejandro Zambra. Daniel Alarcon acted as moderator. The discussion covered a variety of topics – magical realism and The Boom, writing for an English speaking audience, life in Mexico City and (as the title says) the state of Latin American literature today. Overall it was an incredibly vibrant 60 minutes, one of the few events I’ve ever attended which conveyed a sense of the camaraderie we like to imagine exists among writers. I left believing The New Latin American Literature was a real movement rather than just a pretext on which to organize a panel.
Despite the numbers he was working with Alarcon engaged each writer individually, asking questions which showcased their personalities & interests. Alejandro Zambra came across as the most defiant of the group, while Guadalupe Nettel seemed to be the most socially & politically involved (a journalist herself, she was the only one to bring up the killing of journalists in Mexico). Luiselli brought up, not for the first time, the generation of Latin American writers who came immediately after The Boom and are still waiting to be translated into English. Andrés Neuman – whose short story collection I knew I had somewhere (wrongfully neglected) on my bookshelves – displayed a thoughtful, intellectual side. I found his book, The Things We Don’t Do published by Open Letter, immediately upon arriving home. I can’t wait to start reading it.
There were other panels and more than one new discovery. Imperium, when described by the author Christian Kracht, seems a much more intriguing book than its marketing conveys. I heard the Congolese author of Tram 83, Fiston Mwanza Mujila, give a spirited reading from his novel in French – and quietly laughed as his British translator strove valiantly to emulate that passion but was hindered by being… well… a little too British. I also spent some time and money at the Feminist Press booth. I finally own a copy of Virginie Despentes King Kong Theory. But my favorite purchase of the day was without a doubt the anthology The Shipwrecked: Contemporary Stories by Women from Iran.
The Brooklyn Book Festival, despite its being held in September, always serves as the mile marker of my year in books. It’s where I go to see the authors who excited me in the months preceding and where I discover the authors who’ll occupy me for the weeks that remain. I imagine that there are dozens of similar, if not larger and better, book festivals happening throughout the year that I know nothing about. So I’m throwing out a question – do you have a festival which plays the same, or a similar, role for you?
September 29, 2014 § Leave a comment
My re-cap of the Brooklyn Book Fest is over at Literary Kicks this year. Click on the picture to read the post.
May 28, 2014 § Leave a comment
Despite the infrequent updates over the last few months, the world of translation has been hopping over the past month. So here are some random bits and bobs from the month of May.
PEN Translation Festival
I was lucky enough to get tickets to two events for the Pen World Voices Literary Festival: The Re-Interviews of Martin Amis & Michael Stipe and Translating On the Edge, a panel sponsored by the PEN Translation Committee. Amis & Stipe were charming, fascinating, charismatic and everything you’d expect two celebrities to be. And the premise behind the their re-interviews, hosted by (who else?) Interview Magazine, was truly brilliant. Three people were on the stage at a time: the interviewer, an actor playing the interviewee and the man, himself. The actors read Amis’ & Stipe’s answers from past interviews (some dating, in Amis’ case, as far back as the 1970’s). Giving the interviewer a chance to address his/her questions to both Amis’ & Stipe’s younger and present selves. Amis & Stipe were then able to correct or confirm the record.
Amis was, as is to be expected, incredibly charming & erudite. Stipe was a bit less articulate – but wonderfully animated and remarkably candid. I attended with a friend and we both enjoyed ourselves immensely. We spent the next morning recounting the entire event – virtually word for word – to her husband’s amusement over breakfast. I can only hope it will become a regular feature of the Festival.
Thanks to an email from the translator, Margaret Carson, I bought a last minute ticket to the Translating On the Edge Panel (sponsored by the PEN Translation Committee) moderated by Heather Cleary. On the panel were three translators: Sara Khalili (Censoring of an Iranian Love Story by Shariar Mandanipour), Robyn Creswell (That Smell by Sonallah Ibrahim) and Bonnie Huie (Notes of a Crocodile by Qiu Miaojin). Cleary did a wonderful job – keeping just the right balance between readings and actual discussion.
Huie’s reading from Notes of a Crocodile, the only book of the three that I wasn’t familiar with, stood out. Notes of a Crocodile is scheduled to be published by New York Review of Books Classics. They also published the English translation of Miaojin’s Last Words from Montmarte. For those of you, like me, who never heard of this incredible author: Qui Miaojin was a Taiwanese author who committed suicide in 1995 at the tragic age of 26. She won the China Times Literature Award for Notes of a Crocodile. The novel is considered a cult classic – in part due to the GLBT subject matter (Miaojin was openly lesbian). I wasn’t able to find a release date online, but here’s an excerpt posted on the Asian American Writers’ Workshop website. And definitely check out the video. The entire panel was excellent – but if you’re limited for time take a moment to fast-forward to Bonnie Huie’s reading.
Women In Translation Month
If you haven’t heard – Biblibio is declaring August WOMEN IN TRANSLATION MONTH. There’s a badge for readers & bloggers who take part, a hashtag #WomenInTranslation or #WITMonth on Twitter, and a schedule of activities forthcoming. This all began in December when Biblibio crunched the numbers and realized that less than 30% of the books translated in 2013 were by women authors. She’s continued to explore the topic – looking at specific publishers, polling readers and bloggers, and putting up this incredible May 25th post featuring an embarrassing riches of charts and graphs. Whether or not you want to acknowledge the bias (I’ve had a hard time with it if only because it seems so ridiculous/unbelievable… and then I took the time to examine my own *blush* reading history) Biblibio makes a solid case. Her sampling is manageable because the number of books in translation published each year is relatively small, and thanks to the database put out by Three Percent she has all the data she needs. The numbers don’t lie. So support the cause, people – read a female author in translation! If you love to read, if you love reading translations, it’s an important one to bet behind.
Some Award News
I’m not sure why, but I’ve been suffering from a case of literary award fatigue. But in case you haven’t:
AND – the lesser known French-American Foundation’s Translation Prize went to Electrico W by Herve Le Tellier, translated by Adriana Hunter – beating out a shortlist that included both The Conductor and Other Tales by Jean Ferry (translated by Edward Gauvin), All My Friends by Marie NDiaye (translated by Gordan Stump).
- Château D’Argol by Julien Gracq, translated by Louies Varèse
- The Corpse Exhibition & Other Stories of Iraq by Hassan Blasim, translated by Jonathan Wright
- Ten Years In the Tub: A Decade Soaking in Great Books by Nick Hornby
September 8, 2013 § Leave a comment
Fall is here… more or less. The weather is still closer to 80 than 70 degrees. And the view from my window looks nothing like the cover of the L.L. Bean catalog that just arrived in the mail (a couple sitting on the tailgate of an old pick-up truck, a lake surrounded by pines, fall leaves covering the grass). But it is September and in a few short weeks it will be one of my favorite days of the year. The Brooklyn Book Festival is being held on Sunday, September 22nd.
I’ve already put together my spreadsheet (yes, I put together a spreadsheet) of the panels I’ll be attending. I’m a sucker for panels. I always overbook myself, forget to eat and leave way too little time to tour the tables set up in Brooklyn Borough Plaza. This year’s line-up looks especially distracting with a number of translated authors in attendance.
There are at least three books I hope to read before the Festival day arrives.
The Assignment: The Sound of Things Falling by Juan Gabriel Vásquez
My Reason: There’s been a ton of buzz around this novel.
The Panel: Personal Stories, National Memory: Fiction can be as narrow or contained as a single consciousness, or open up and embody something intrinsic to an era or nation. Alexander Maksik (A Marker to Measure Drift), probes the shattered inner world of a Liberian war refugee; Colombian author Juan Gabriel Vásquez (The Sound of Things Falling) captures the dread and violence of his country’s drug war years, and Oonya Kempadoo (All Decent Animals) offers a polyrhythmic, panoramic view across contemporary Trinidadian society. Moderated by Anderson Tepper. Special thanks to the Colombian Film Festival New York. (Borough Hall Community Room, 209 Joralemon Street)
The Assignment: HotHouse: The Art of Survival and the Survival of Art at America’s Most Celebrated Publishing House, Farrar Straus & Giroux by Boris Kachka
The Reason: History about books, where can you go wrong? Plus, I always like to attend at least one “industry” panel.
The Panel: Publish and Perish? E-books are killing publishing! The corporations are killing publishing! Self-publishing is killing publishing! While headlines continually bemoan the end of the literary world as we know it, others argue that the reports of publishing’s demise have been greatly exaggerated. Janet Groth (The Receptionist) and Boris Kachka (Hothouse) take a look inside two of our most storied institutions—The New Yorker and Farrar, Straus and Giroux—and consider the past while taking the pulse of the literary world today. (Brooklyn Historical Society Library, 128 Pierrepont Street, 3PM)
The Assignment: The Corpse Washer By Sinan Antoon
The Reason: This was a coin flip – between The Corpse Washer and Jean-Marie Blas de Roblès’s Where the Tigers Are At Home (Roblès sits on a 4PM panel called Lost and Found: The Journey Begins At Home). I’ve been reading a lot of French novels lately and decided on something different.
The Panel: What Fills the Void After War? Three acclaimed writers from countries that have known conflict and political unrest discuss war’s aftermath and how it informs their work. With Irish writer Colum McCann (TransAtlantic), Sri Lankan writer Ru Freeman (On Sal Mal Lane) and Iraqi writer Sinan Antoon (The Corpse Washer). Moderated by Rob Spillman (Tin House) (Borough Hall Community Room, 209 Joralemon Street, 5PM)
If you’ll be in Brooklyn on the 22nd here’s the link to the 2013 Brooklyn Book Festival events schedule. You know, so you can make your own spreadsheet!
May 3, 2013 § 5 Comments
I was only able to attend one panel at this year’s PEN World Voices Literary Festival and so, based on how much I enjoyed last year’s panel on Reviewing Translations, I chose The Critic’s Global Voice. The description and the list of panelists (Jean-Euphèle Milcé from Haiti, Ursula Krechel from Germany, Mikhail Shishkin from Russia) both seemed promising. The panel was moderated by an editor at BookForum.
The style, attitude, and role of book criticism differs from country to country. This panel will explore how reviewers and book reviews shape-shift across borders, even as each country’s literary culture forms its own responses to political, technological, and aesthetic changes.
My expectation was that the discussion would touch on topics such as: book reviews and criticism in a global society; the influence of the internet and digital publishing on how books are reviewed and where; and the cultural differences in literary criticism traditions between countries. Perhaps this was a little ambitious, but based on that description above I didn’t think so.
What happened instead was a series of pointed questions that appeared designed to prompt the panelists to expound on the importance of book critics to literature as a whole and to legitimize the book review as a literary form in its own right. No one seemed to have explained this agenda to the panelists and for the most part they refused to play. Not entirely surprising – the relationship between critics and authors is always a bit dodgy. It’s the rare artist, or person for that matter, who embraces criticism; particularly negative. If that was the conversation the moderator wanted to have it might have made sense to include an actual critic or two on the panel.
The impression I was left with was that literary criticism is of nominal importance in Europe. But I know that’s not the case… so I’m not sure what the audience was supposed to take-away. There were a few moments when the conversation could have taken a more informative turn. Particularly a comment made by the Haitian author Jean-Euphèle Milcé (whose book I bought immediately after the panel) regarding how Haitian authors are not critiqued as simply Haitian authors, but have their works held up against the entire French literary tradition. And when asked about the state of book criticism in Russia, Mikhail Shishkin engaged in an elegant metaphor (which my paraphrasing will not do justice to) – that a literary Cold War was still happening in Russia. That his book sits between two sets of barricades. Behind the barricade to the right are the Nationalists, who will not like his book. To the left are the more liberal reviewers, those who see Russia as a part of a larger, European community and who will write positively about his book. Shishkin told us that he does not need to read his reviews in Russia because he knows without exception behind which barricade each critic stands. Whereas with non-Russian critics he never knows what they will say in advance.
Both these points could have been expanded into a larger discussion on the difference between how a book is perceived in and outside of an author’s home country. Different cultural contexts must be applied – and are these contexts necessarily fair, or even useful? And (to throw in a curveball) is this why so many authors seem to be living as expatriates these days? in part to escape cultural categorization? But that didn’t happen.
I also found it frustrating that very little attention (with the exception of an audience question at the end) was given to the changing landscape of book criticism. Specifically digital publishing and the internet. Ebooks make it easier for small publishers to launch. Readers from around the world can communicated in the comments sections of reviews, articles and blogs regardless of where they are physically located. On Twitter and the various blogs I follow, I learn about books and authors that may not have even found a U.S. publisher yet. Book bloggers – like other kinds of bloggers – cross international borders and form global communities all the time.
This frustration is not a new one. I felt it with last year’s panel on Reviewing Translations. In my experience the professional book critic establishment tends to lump bloggers with Amazon reviewers, and so whenever there is a conversation on “serious” reviewing they (often quite literally) ignore us. In turn, bloggers dismiss the establishment as “gate-keepers”, literary elitists or as Luddites unable (or just unwilling) to come to terms with the new age in which we all live.
Neither point of view is particularly productive.
I see comments from younger bloggers on Twitter sometimes about how only their older relatives recommend things they’ve read in the NY Times… which always makes me laugh. Inevitably we all become that older relative. I had no interest in current events, politics or world events when I was young. (I did always read the lit reviews – The New York Times, The New York Review of Books, the Times Literary Supplement and the infrequent Village Voice Literary Supplement). But there does come a time when you realize you not only don’t know everything, you never will. And you feel the need for a dialogue that encompasses more than an exchange between friends, because you’ve been having those exchanges for so long with those same friends that it’s necessary to either insert some fresh content or stop having them. There is still a place for the “old guard” in today’s world – if only to acknowledge the fact that we all eventually join that old guard whether we want to or not.
There is still a place for traditional book criticism and reviews. The literary community would be the lesser if outlets like The NYRB, BookForum and the Times Literary Supplement vanished completely.
I also see comments by bloggers that the conversation about Book Blogger vs. Book Critics is 10-years old and no longer relevant. True. The conversation that has happened within the separate camps has become irrelevant in light of the current state of affairs. Bloggers have carved out a niche for themselves, separate but very similar to the niche inhabited by book critics. The print outlets that were once the critic’s domain have declined in numbers and popularity. But the rise in digital and self publishing, and the histrionic (and sometimes ridiculous) hand-wringing over the decline of book sales and literature in general effects us all. What has been lost in all this noise (and, frankly, insecurity) is that we are – book critics and bloggers – on the same team.
I believe it was the same audience member who asked the question I referred to earlier, on digital publishing and the changing literary climate, who also made an important observation regarding the massive volume of literature that is now available and the need to help readers sort through it all. It would be too easy to look at that question and dismiss it as elitist or, even worse, a call for a gate-keeper. I see it differently. I never try to tell my readers what they shouldn’t read. I’m not even, necessarily, telling them what they should read. I seldom care all that much about what other people read, period. What I am trying to do is introduce readers to books – books they may not hear about otherwise – and then explain why I find these books interesting (or not). And, by inference, what I think they will find interesting in them (or not). These are books – often by small publishers and in my case almost always in translation – that are often lost in the literary deluge that is currently upon us.
Don’t book critics have the same goal – to help readers discover specific books and (hopefully) appreciate them? Perhaps the conversation between bloggers and critics should start there.
Towards the end of the panel Ursula Krechel used the terms “democratization” of reviewing and the “professional reader” – which seemed to have a negative implication. Because book blogs – or even online book review outlets like The Millions, The Huffington Post, BookSlut – were never specifically mentioned I had to wonder who she was referring to. Every blogger I know cares about the quality and content of their reviews. Many spend hours, if not days, obsessing and tweaking their posts. We love reading about books, but we also love writing about them. Perhaps we judge them by a slightly different criteria than the traditional literary critic, but we do employ standards. Bloggers build individual followings, something most book critics don’t have. I follow several bloggers, but very seldom do I (an acknowledged book review addict) look for specific reviewers when I open a paper or click on a review online. I bet those traditional critics (and the outlets that employ them) would love to change that.
As for what book critics have to teach bloggers – they do have a couple hundred years tradition on their side. If the literary criticism world must continue to change – and, I’m sorry, it must – what form do they want to see that change take in the future? If there is a literary standard they feel bloggers are not meeting – open a dialogue that is not dismissive or condescending. Why not partner up with or mentor specific bloggers with the same vision (I have heard of this happening, but infrequently). Or even invite bloggers and book critics to sit on the same panel. At this point, it’s a zero-sum game we’re all playing here. We can just as quickly turn that into a positive as a negative.
(Speaking of a global community – I know you’re out there – the Comments are open!)