The week, we bring more updates from writers around the globe as they continue to commemorate, resist, show solidarity, and contemplate our present moment. In Greece, the literary world remembers the historic Athens Polytechnic Uprising; in the UK, the prestigious Warwick Prize for Women in Translation is awarded; in Spain, an exciting young literary festival brings together some of the best names in Spanish-language writing today, to talk about that eternal subject—time; and lastly, our editor from Palestine expresses gratitude for those around the world who have continued to stand up and show support.
Christina Chatzitheodorou, Editor-at-Large, reporting for Greece
The book Speak, Bird, Speak Again: Palestinian Arab Folktales was recently translated from English into Greek by Dimitris Koufontinas and published by Monopati Editions. In the collection, editors Ibrahim Muhawi and Sharif Kanaana have gathered and selected stories from Palestine that best exemplify the Palestinian Arab folk oral tradition, and the translation represents an important addition for Palestinian and Arab literature in the Greek language.
Recently, on the fiftieth anniversary of the Athens Polytechnic Uprising (1973), Giorgos Perantonakis wrote an article for Book Press, highlighting the continual legacy that this demonstration—and the dictatorship, the Regime of the Colonels (1967-1974), that it protested—has left on Greek literature, citing important works from poetry and novels to personal memoirs. However, Perantonakis omitted one of the most important anti-dictatorial titles: Ta Dekaokto Kimena (The Eighteen Texts), a collective volume of eighteen writers (including Georgios Seferis, Manolis Anagnostakis, and Stratis Tsirkas) and their political works, which was published in July 1970 by Kedros Publications.
In the same commemorative pattern, Politeia Bookshop curated a list of books for the anniversary of the Uprising; it includes books for both adults and children, and new publications as well as older ones. A recent work on the list is Olympios Dafermos’ book Milo sta Paidia mou gia tin Chounta kai to Polytechneio (I talk to my kids about the Junta and the Polytechnio), published by Topos Editions in October this year, which attempts to communicate to young people about the junta and the Polytechnic uprising in a simple and understandable way; through a dialogue between a father and his children, the author highlights the students’ resistance against this violent regime, who imprisoned and tortured everyone that dared to disagree with it. As one of the most well-known Greek songs linked with the Uprising in our collective memory goes: “The street has its own story, someone wrote it on the wall with paint. It was just one word: freedom—and later they said it was written by kids.”
An older book from the list worth mentioning is I Meres tou Politechneiou mesa apo tin «Foni tis Alithias»: Agnosto kai Adimosieuto Iliko, which was published in November 2020 by Sigchroni Epohi Editions; it showcases selected extracts of broadcasts of the (illegal) radio station I Foni tis Alithias (The Voice of Truth) between November 2 to December 21, 1973—shortly before, during, and shortly after the Uprising.
Georgina Fooks, Director of Outreach, reporting from the UK
On November 23, translators and readers gathered eagerly in London to celebrate the authors and translators shortlisted for the Warwick Prize for Women in Translation. Launched in 2017, the prize is intended to improve awareness and recognition of women writers in translation in the UK and Ireland, with the £1000 prize split evenly between the writer and her translator(s). The prize this year went to Deena Mohamed’s Your Wish Is My Command, a remarkable graphic novel written, illustrated, and translated from Arabic by Mohamed herself.
Your Wish Is My Command depicts a world in which wishes are a commodity to be bought and sold, and in the narrative, three wishes, bought at a kiosk in Cairo, change three people’s lives. During the readings that preceded the prize-giving, Mohamed (appearing via Zoom) showed the Arabic and English versions of the work side-by-side, giving us insight into the unique compositional process of a graphic novel as well as providing a notably distinctive presentation from the custom readings of prize ceremonies. In Your Wish Is My Command, the panels are presented from right to left in the style of Japanese manga, and it was fascinating to hear Mohamed discuss various challenges, including the multifaceted and multilingual Arabic text, which includes a wide variety of discourses from Egyptian slang to religious sermons, as well as languages historically spoken in Egypt.
This was the first year the prize was open to self-translations, and it was heartening to see one win. During Mohamed’s speech, she highlighted her solidarity with the Palestinian cause and thanked those who had supported her thus far, including fellow translator Sawad Hussain, who was also shortlisted for the prize for her translation of Bushra al-Maqtari’s What Have You Left Behind?. Hussain also read from this heartbreaking testimony of the Yemeni Civil War, which left both Hussain and several audience members in tears.
Unusually, the judges Amanda Hopkinson, Boyd Tonkin, and Susan Bassnett also decided to award a special commendation to Dorthe Nors’ A Line in the World, translated from Danish by Caroline Waight. The book was commended for the way it ‘weaves wind and tide, experience and history, into a magical memoir of a place, a life and a culture’, and Waight spoke movingly on how translating Nors’ work was a welcome refuge while going through cancer treatment.
The shortlist was comprised of eight titles from eight countries and written in seven languages (with Yemeni and Egyptian Arabic being represented). All titles were published by independent publishers, and the organisers and judges commended the increasing number of titles eligible for the prize, which received a record number of entries this year: 153 entries from 32 languages. With the prize growing year on year, we can hope that publishers in the UK, Ireland, and beyond continue to invest in more excellent work by women in translation—and in self-translation.
Marina García Pardavila, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Spain
Time flies, time clocks, time vanishes. More than ever, our hyper-productive society has led to a discourse fixated on measurement—time management, time-consuming, timeboxing. We yearn to do nothing, but find ourselves instead speaking about effective time management to schedule our free time. Time has overtaken our conversations, bleeding into our personal desires and turning us into complete time control freaks.
Cuéntalo Festival is a literary festival that has taken place in Logroño since 2017, and each year, a new topic sets the tone of its panels, workshops, and readings. Whilst last year’s main topic was money, this year has focused on time. Among the writers who attended the event were Violeta Gil, Elvira Valgañón, Miguel Ángel Delgado, Isabel Moreno, Agustín Fernández Mallo, Iván de la Nuez, Aixa de la Cruz, Roque Larraquy, Eloy Tizón, Elvira Navarro, Ferrán Pontón, Ricky Lavado, Antonio Muñoz Molina, Azahara Alonso, Liza Ambrossio, and Miguel Ángel Hernández. In pairs, they discussed the topic in regards to their most recent publication, ranging from time as a literary device to a physical limit of their workflow. Along these lines, it was clear that no matter the genre, time was at the forefront of their frustrations and inner discussions.
For instance, Aixa de la Cruz explored the shared characteristics between writing and locking oneself in a nunnery. Eloy Tizón reflected on his long periods of non-writing as a form of writing—that is, the gradual process of substituting memories for dreams, thoughts, and fantasies. Antonio Muñoz Molina vindicated laziness as a rebellious act, as writing can also arise from life experiences which allow us to simply behold.
Cuéntalo Festival was fresh, utterly modern, and thought-provoking; in the same way that time was a major topic for Modernist writers, it still underpins all our movements, and as the authors of this year’s edition proved, it also continues to give way to new approaches and conversations.
Carol Khoury, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Palestine
“In these trying times, the impulse to articulate our thoughts is universal, lest we find ourselves ensnared by the suffocating embrace of silence. Each individual possesses a unique linguistic prowess and distinctive tonal nuances. Yet, amid the cacophony and discourse, particularly in the realm of social media, our collective apprehension towards silence resonates louder than any spoken word.”
This paraphrased sentiment comes from Hasan Khader, a distinguished writer and journalist, and was shared in Arabic through Facebook on November 19. It underscores the conspicuous absence of international commentary, to say the least, regarding the ongoing atrocities in Gaza. Is the world truly silent, or have we become so immersed in our grief that we no longer hear well?
For those who have lent an ear to the Palestinians’ narrative, I express my heartfelt gratitude. The widespread international support, evidenced by the multitudes thronging the streets week after week, demands more than passing acknowledgment. Not only has it amplified the Palestinian voice in major global cities, but it has also instilled a renewed sense of faith in humanity among the Palestinian people.
Beyond the fervor in the streets, a parallel narrative has also been unfolding within. Numerous expressions of solidarity—including statements, petitions, seminars, podcasts, and various other forms of advocacy—are sprouting across the globe. While many emanate from established entities, there are also emergent initiatives inspired by the exigencies of this new reality. One such commendable initiative is Publishers for Palestine, which has united literary figures from around the world. Self-described as a “global collective of more than three hundred publishers, and others who work in publishing around the world, who stand for justice, freedom of expression, and the power of the written word,” this collective issued a solidarity statement on November 3. It was eloquently crafted in English, en Français, en Català, dalam bahasa Indonesia, اردو میں, بالعربية, 中文, 日本語で, and Στα ελληνικα, with more languages slated for release.
On behalf of every Palestinian, I extend profound gratitude to all who stand in solidarity.
*****
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