Place: Spain

What’s New in Translation: September 2023

New translations from the Catalan and the French!

This month in newly released translations, we’re featuring two authors of inimitable voice and style. From the Catalan, a surrealist masterpiece by Ventura Ametller sharply blends history with mysticism in an epic retelling of the Spanish Civil War; and from the French, the latest text by Annie Ernaux returns to some of the author’s most central themes—sex and memory—in a poignant examination of corporeal and psychological navigations.

Summa Kaotica by Ventura Ametller (Bonaventura Clavaguera), translated from the Catalan by Douglas Suttle, Fum d’Estampa, 2023

Review by Samantha Siefert, Marketing Manager

A monstrosity of a fish gnashes at a tiger, the tiger leaps towards a gun, the gun is aimed perilously at the prone body of a nude woman. . . It’s all so unexpected and moving, but what do these objects have to do with one another—or with anything at all?

Such is surrealism: the challenge of reconciling the disparity of absurdity. “Everything leads us to believe that there exists a spot in the mind from which life and death, the real and the imaginary, the past and the future, the high and the low, the communicable and the incommunicable will cease to appear contradictory,” declared André Breton in his manifesto. Riding on the coattails of Dadaism, surrealism emerged as an impulsive reaction to the tragedy of the First World War: If reason had resulted in such great suffering, then what good was a movement rooted in realism?

The antithesis of reason, then, was the way forward, and the efforts of the avant-garde were so resonant that they continue to exist today as comfortable figures of popular culture, where the discordance of fish, tiger, and gun feel almost familiar in Salvador Dalí’s famous painting, “The Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee Around a Pomegranate a Second Before Awakening.” The surrealist world of letters, however, leave room for discovery.

In Catalonia with Dalí at the beginning of the twentieth century, the writer Ventura Ametller—the pen name of Bonaventura Clavaguera—was hard at work, producing a prolific collection of poetry, essays, and novels that turn the world upside down in raucous prose, described by essayist Lluís Racionero as “Dalí in words.” His work has remained only quietly appreciated, but perhaps the time has come for that to change with the new publication of Ametller’s groundbreaking magnum opus, Summa Kaotica, in a masterful translation from the Catalan by Douglas Suttle. READ MORE…

Weekly Dispatches From the Frontlines of World Literature

The latest in festivals, awards, and literary developments from Spain, Mexico, and India!

This week, our editors are bringing some very exciting news from the ground. In India, a working-class writer has been lauded by the prestigious Kerala Literary Academy, and a new documentary has been unveiled with one of our favourite publishers, Seagull Books, as its subject. In Mexico, the country celebrates its most promising young writers with a week-long festival. And in Spain, a comics festival sees the medium undergoing some radical new developments—including, surprisingly, a venture into audiobooks. 

Zohra Salih, Editor-at-Large, reporting from India

Without a doubt, the most heartening literary news we received this month was that of Akhil Kavintarikath being feted by the Kerala Literary Academy. Akhil, at twenty-eight years old, won the academy’s annual Geetha Hiranyan endowment award for his 2020 short-story collection, Neelachadayan. This is an especially significant recognition because of Akhil’s unconventional background; he works as a JCB construction operator at a sand mine by night and a newspaper delivery man in the morning—quite contrary to the popular image of a young and upcoming novelist these days. As a fellow aspiring writer and friend commented while forwarding the link to the news to me, “Now we don’t have any excuses for not practicing our craft!” I completely agree, what better incentive can there be!

Akhil, who hails from a small village in Kannur in the southern state of Kerala, dropped out of school at the mere age of sixteen to support his family by doing odd jobs, all the while sustaining a deeply personal passion for literature and writing. He found inspiration in the mundane, managing to read a few lines here and there from the stories in the newspapers he would deliver, and then, with curiosity getting the better of him, filling in the blanks through inventive speculation. It was this curiosity to delve into the lives around him that drove him to write. This was further bolstered by his time spent working in the mines during night shifts, where the same imagination served as an antidote to the fear and loneliness that accompanied the dark.

Akhil has since authored Story of Lion in 2021, which draws from the ancient practice of theyyam, followed by Tharakanthan in 2022, which is inspired by the epic Ramayana; both are released by Mathrubhumi Books, one of Kerala’s foremost publishing houses. However, winning the prestigious honor has not meant that the tides have completely turned for Akhil, as the reality is that the award money is not enough for him to leave his job and commit to writing full time. This only underscores the need for more avenues in India to support such talent, through both monetary and social encouragement, lest we lose their brilliant voices to the margins.

Speaking of unconventional news, it is not often that one comes across a film celebrates an independent publishing house, so I was surprised to learn about the release of the documentary Of Books and Other Stories—but I was not surprised that the subject of this film is Seagull Books. I came across this publisher while working for the Jaipur Literary Festival in India back in 2019; Naveen Kishore, Seagull’s founder, was an important panelist for the event, and I had the privilege of witnessing his genius in person. While the saying does caution us against judging a book by its cover, I have to admit that I have often been drawn to literary works based on their aesthetics, and this is something that Seagull Publishers understands fully. Their commissioned books are works of art in themselves; you want to have one in your room as you would a gallery piece. Seagull works are distinctive, painstakingly curated, and the attention reflects in their design. The palette is astonishingly wide in breadth, with translations culled from across the world, on topics ranging from philosophy, art, theater, to literature. Fittingly, Seagull Books was awarded the Cesare De Michelis Prize this year for their contributions to the publishing world, and the film, directed by Pushan Kripalani, is an ode to this landmark literary institution, as well as to the joys of publishing and participating in the exchange of books across all barriers.

Marina García Pardavila, Editor-at-Large Spain, reporting from Spain

The Viñetas desde o Atlántico Comic Festival, which takes place in A Coruña (Spain) from August 7 to 13, has opened up its twenty-sixth edition to a striking response from the audience. Streets have been crowded and many visitors dashed to engage in the workshops, book discussions, exhibitions, and literary events organized in the city center, displaying an eager interest for the refreshing ventures of this artform—which will certainly continue to proliferate in the future. The festival highlights the narrative brilliance of authors such as David Rubín, who has been nominated four times for the Eisner Prize; the artistic couple Teresa Radice (screenwriter) and Stefano Turconi (illustrator); Emma Ríos; Xulia Vicente; Luis Yang; as well as the underground pioneers of the female scene—Ana Miralles, Roser Oduber, and Laura Pérez Vernetti. But it does not stop there; as the festival makes clear, times are changing in the comic world.

In collaboration with the actor Xosé Barato, David Rubín presented an audiobook of his last work O lume (The Fire)—his most personal comic up to this day. This new medium has the great potential to spark interest among new readers, who perhaps have not considered the comic, beyond its visual stimulation, as a thrilling opportunity to find good stories. It also fosters a more inclusive audience, as the acting work conveys a vivid feeling which mirrors the exact tone of the comic book. When the theater lit up, I witnessed an overwhelming applause, filling the room with excitement.

Laura Pérez Vernetti guided the exhibition surrounding the release of the Spanish poet Luis Alberto de Cuenca‘s comic, Vive la vida y otras poesías (To live life and other poems). The exhibition, curated by Asier Mensuro, originated from the question: “And why not meld the poetic language with the comic form?” Vernetti has a long track record in the visual translation of poetry into comic strips, having transformed Vladimir Mayakovski, Charles Baudelaire, Marcel Schwob, and Rainer Maria Rilke’s poetry into eye-catching comics.

Going along with his astonishing passion for the Greco-Roman classics, Luis Alberto de Cuenca regards comics as a perfect medium wherein the clash between high and low culture is blurred. Despite its underground beginnings, the comic form has reached outstanding recognition in the last decade. In this regard, Vernetti remarked on the anti-academicist nature and thought-provoking power behind this hybrid art.

From this quick contact with the vibrant comic industry, I dare to claim that comics are in the process of reshaping our literary landscape.

Alan Mendoza Sosa, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Mexico

In recent news, the diverse literary communities in Mexico have proved that they remain vibrant and dynamic forums for both established and emerging voices. Between August 12 and 18, the prestigious cultural center, Xavier Villaurrutia, will hold the Semana de Letras Emergentes (Week of Emerging Literature). The event will give center stage to young poets from all over Mexico: Leopoldo Orozco (Baja California), Mónica Licea (Jalisco), Fabián Espejel (Ciudad de México), Marjha Paulino (Oaxaca), Rebeca Favila (Chihuahua), Delmar Penka (Chiapas-Tseltal), Luis Alberto Mendoza (Colima), Diana Mireya Tun Batún (Quintana Roo-Maya),  Ángel Vargas (Guerrero), Diana Domínguez (Oaxaca-Ayuujk), Roberto López (Tamaulipas), Gabriela Muñoz (Sinaloa), Anaid Gálvez (Hidalgo), and Yolanda Segura (Querétaro). Though all of the presenters have already shown their promise with publications of work accesible online, the most famous name in the lineup is Yolanda Segura. Self-decribed as “a lesbian-queer transfeminist writer,” she has been at the forefront of contemporary queer poetry in Mexico, with three published books under her name and a raft of prestigious awards.

Segura is from Querétaro, the state that hosts the annual Hay Festival, which just announced its lineup for this year. Running between September 7-10, the Hay will feature diverse panels, books readings, and presentations with acclaimed writers from around the world. Among the most well-known participants this year is the Chilean writer Alejandro Zambra, whose short stories have been featured in Asymptote several times. But the ambitious event will also feature other famous individuals from beyond the literary world. One of them is the Mexican actor Gael García Bernal, known worldwide for starring in internationally acclaimed films such as Y tu mamá también and Amores Perros. Bringing together these cultural luminaries, this years’ Hay Festival is poised for an exciting and vivacious edition.

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Read more on the Asymptote blog:

The Edge of Understanding: An Interview with Robin Munby

It matters a lot as a translator that you trust in the author, and the writing.

As Charlie Ng writes in her essay, ‘Translating Whale-Song into Human Speech’, the poetic ‘Song of the Whale-road’ embodies the “primordial unity” of humans and nature in the timeless, ahistorical figure of the whale. Published in Asymptote‘s Spring 2023 issue, ‘Song of the Whale-road’ is a series of experimental excerpts from the novel Oceánica by Yolanda González, arranged and translated by Robin Munby. It navigates the ocean not only as a landscape but as a powerful “symbol of the collective unconscious”, juxtaposing the false narrative of human godhood we tell ourselves against the whales’ magnitude in our shared planetary experience of nature and time. In this interview, I spoke with Robin Munby about his role in shaping the gravity and pull of this text, as well as about his piece ‘A New Vocabulary of Translation’, also published in Asymptote‘s latest issue, in which a serpentine glossary helps guide a critic’s review of translations.

Michelle Chan Schmidt (MCS): Robin, you almost seem to have gone beyond the remit of a translator with ‘Song of a Whale-road’. Building on González’s approach to Oceánica, you’ve brought ‘Song of a Whale-road’ into your own experimental realm of language, structure and presentation by compiling the text yourself. What was the creative process behind the piece’s cohesive form?

Robin Munby (RM): The way the piece came about is quite straightforward. I’d read and enjoyed Oceánica and planned to do something with it down the line, but it was the call for the Asymptote animal-themed special feature that gave me the prod I needed. Because I was translating the piece with that goal in mind, it made sense to focus on the intercalated sections running through the novel told from the perspective of a pod of whales, as opposed to working on sections from the novel’s various other strands.

In the context of the novel, the sections which became ‘Song of the Whale-road’ function a little like the Greek chorus. For that reason, I wasn’t sure until I’d compiled them and really until after I’d had a go at translating them, whether they would work as a standalone piece; there’s something a little absurd about presenting the chorus without the play. But I felt there was an internal logic to them and a music that would hopefully come through even outside of their original context. Though translation always involves re-forming and re-contextualizing to varying extents, I’m sure I’d have made different decisions had these pieces been translated alongside the rest of the novel. In particular, the translation of the wider novel would likely have influenced my approach to these sections, and I’d have had to focus slightly less on their internal coherence and more on the points at which they resonate with and speak to the novel’s other strands. I’ll come back with a fuller answer if/when I translate the rest of the novel! READ MORE…

Weekly Dispatches From the Frontlines of World Literature

The latest from Spain and Central America!

In this week of literary news, we hear from our Editors-at-Large on Spanish-speaking countries around the world! From Spanish-Romanian literary intermingling in Spain, to recent award winners across Central America, to medium-bending poetry across sound and space in Mexico, read on to learn more!

MARGENTO, Editor-at-Large, reporting on Spain

As the summer season is kicking in and tourists are about to take over Spain—as is the usual for this time of the year—certain portions of the literary world are seeming to gain fresh momentum. That goes particularly for the transnational and translational endeavors. 

The latest issue of the Madrid-based literary journal Ágora – Papeles de Arte Gramático offers a rich overview of contemporary Spanish poetry while including a generous Catalan special feature. A substantive section on Romanian literature is also featured, with reviews of Encarnación García León’s recent anthology of Romanian fiction in Spanish translation and articles on Spanish translations of the legendary writer and internationally revered religion phenomenologist Mircea Eliade and the symbolist Ion Minulescu. 

Moreover, the issue opens with poems by past Asymptote contributor Felix Nicolau in Elisabeta Boțan’s Spanish translation and some of Fernando Pessoa’s celebrated poems in Dinu Flămând’s Romanian rendering. The journal has had a long-standing interest in Romanian-Spanish literary cross-pollinations, as a previous issue featured a sizeable section dedicated to the Romanian inter-war writer Max Blecher, who passed away at the age of 28 after spending a decade ill, confined to his bed, and writing literature that would later be widely translated. Blecher’s collected poems in Spanish translation, edited by Joaquín Garrigós, was a highlight of the issue. Ágora’s Editor-in-Chief Fulgencio Martínez warmly recommends to his readers the summer issue of another Madrid-based journal, Littera Nova, profuse with Romanian writing. 

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Weekly Dispatches From the Frontlines of World Literature

The latest from North Macedonia, China, and Spain!

In this week of news in world literature, we hear from our Editors-at-Large on recent literary awards, revolutionary bookstores, and book fairs around the globe! From North Macedonia’s Novel of the Year to prizes for works across genres and languages in Spain, read on to learn more!

Sofija Popovska, Editor-at-Large, reporting from North Macedonia 

At the end of May, the 24th “Novel of the Year” award, given by the Slavko Janevski foundation, was presented to the author Vlada Urošević for his novel “Вистината но не многу веројатна историја за семејството Пустополски за куќата покрај Вардар и за четирите прстени” (The true, yet not very likely tale of the Pustopolski family, of the house by Vardar river, and the four rings). 

Urošević (b. October 17, 1934), who received the most prestigious Macedonian poetry award earlier this spring, is a writer, poet, and essayist. His oeuvre includes a wide array of literary genres—prose, poetry, essays, travelogs, literary and art criticism, and translations. His work as a full-time professor of comparative literature at the University of St Cyril and Methodius in Skopje is present not only in his lyrical oeuvre—his novel, too, blends different cultures together to create a thrilling, artful narrative.

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Weekly Dispatches From the Front Lines of World Literature

The latest in literature from Spain, Mexico, Palestine, and the USA!

This week, we find the world celebrating the voices of both writers and translators. In New York City, a live reading event features the ongoing work of Latin American writers, while in Mexico City, a Chicanx poetry reading tour is inaugurated. In Palestine, the nation mourns the loss of poet and translator Salma Khadra Jayyusi, a brilliant mind who never ceased to advocate for Arabic literature and its translation. Meanwhile, in Madrid, Romanian writing sees the spotlight, and in Barcelona, the literary community proudly reminds the world to name the translator. 

Alan Mendoza Sosa, Editor-at-Large, reporting from the United States and Mexico

April has seen many phenomenal community initiatives championing diverse and outstanding writers, both in the U.S. and Mexico.

On Saturday, April 15, I travelled to Queens in New York City to attend a reading at the independent Hispanic bookstore, Librería barco de papel. Aptly held in Jackson Heights, a neighborhood known for its extraordinary cultural diversity, the event featured the most recent work-in-progress of established and emerging Latin American writers. The lineup was a diverse assembly of nationalities, genres, and visions. It included Ruy Feben (Mexico), Margarita Drago (Argentina), Sara Malagón Llano (Colombia), and Nilton Maa (Perú). Their readings touched on pressing topics such as cultural memory and migration, sexuality and friendship, exile and language, and technology and heritage. I found them especially moving as someone from Mexico who has lived abroad for so many years. The atmosphere was joyful and engaging, vitalized by the effervescent hospitality of the event’s organizer and host: Argentinian writer, professor, and community leader Guillermo Severiche. Supported by many institutions, he runs En Construcción, a series of readings and workshops aimed at promoting New York-based Latinx and Latin American writers working in Spanish, Portuguese, Creole, Quechua, or any other languages from the continent. Severiche’s initiative has been celebrated and sponsored by several organizations, among them the magazine Poets & Writers, the Feria Internacional del Libro de la Ciudad de Nueva York, and the New York Foundation for the Arts, which recently awarded him a grant for his upcoming writing project, about birds in New York.

In Mexico City, another marvelous literary event is taking place between April 25-29: the national tour of Mexican and Chicanx poetry, “Speaking in tongues / Hablando en lenguas”, founded, organized, and directed by the internationally acclaimed Mexican poet Minerva Reynosa. The groundbreaking reading series will bring Chicanx poetry to several cities across Mexico, with a lineup including Reynosa and Mexican poet Indira Isel Torres Crux, alongside the Chicanx poets Aideed Medina, Viva Padilla, Josiah Luis Alderete, and Hector Son of Hector. Together they perform a vibrant diversity of styles, perspectives, and languages. Their readings at this momentous festival challenge historical silences (ironically, Latinx poetry is not widely known or read in Mexico) and, crucially, bring people together through joy, community, and the shared passion for poetry. READ MORE…

Weekly Dispatches from the Frontlines of World Literature

Literary news from Sweden, Romania, and India!

In this week’s updates on world literature, our Editors-at-Large bring you updates on literary awards and interdisciplinary festivals! From applied computer science for literature to books for Dalit History Month, read on to find out more!

Eva Wissting, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Sweden

Earlier this month, Norwegian novelist Vigdis Hjorth was announced the recipient of the inaugural Sara Danius Foundation Prize. Vigdis Hjorth is one of Norway’s most prominent writers, with over twenty novels and several young adult books published over the last forty years. English-language readers know her from titles like Is Mother Dead (2022) and Will and Testament (2019), both available in translation by Charlotte Barslund. Is Mother Dead was longlisted for the International Booker Prize, and Will and Testament was longlisted for the 2019 National Book Award in the USA for best translated novel. The Danius Foundation emphasized Vigdis Hjorth’s “groundbreaking and magnificent narrative that disrupts the order with style and clarity” in explaining their motivation for awarding Hjorth the Sara Danius Foundation Prize. The award consists of SEK 50,000 and an artwork depicting Sara Danius, painted by Stina Wirsén. Sara Danius was a Swedish scholar of literature and aesthetics, a literary critic and an essayist, and the first female permanent secretary of the Swedish Academy. After her passing in 2019, her family created the Sara Danius Foundation, with the purpose of supporting female pioneers in literature, humanities research, criticism, essay writing, journalism, and artistic activities. This year’s award ceremony will take place at the Sven-Harry Art Museum in Stockholm on May 3. READ MORE…

Our Spring 2023 Edition Is Here!

Featuring Fernando Pessoa, Franca Mancinelli, Wu Ming-Yi, and Yolanda González in our animal-themed special feature

Experience the world anew through non-human eyes in “Vivarium,” our Spring 2023 issue! From macaques to marmots, muntjacs to mosshoppers and microscopic prokaryotes, a superabundance of literary life overflows from 30 different countries. In this thriving biosphere, you’ll find work from Estonia and Oman flowering in the same soil as Alaa Abu Asad’s Wild Plants and our first entry from Bolivia via Pulitzer Prizewinner Forrest Gander. The same Pangaean ecosystem sustains our animal-themed special feature headlined by Yolanda González, recipient of the 2001 Premio Café Gijón Prize, and 2018 Booker International longlistee Wu Ming-Yi. Alongside these, there are the always thought-provoking words of Italian poet Franca Mancinelli, which bloom in both the Interview and Poetry section—the latter also shelters Fernando Pessoa, whose brilliant co-translators Margaret Jull Costa and Patricio Ferrari have rendered him in one of his most mordant heteronyms, Álvaro de Campos.

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Celebrate International Women’s Day with Women’s Writing!

Join us as we highlight the vital contributions of women to literature and translation.

March 8th is International Women’s Day, and we wanted to take the opportunity to lift up the work of women in world literature. Below, find a selection of pieces published on the blog in the past year, across essays, reviews, translations, and interviews, curated to represent the breadth and brilliance of women working in writing.

Interviews

A Conversation on Kurdish Translation with Farangis Ghaderi
by Holly Mason Badra

But when you look deeper, when you look at archives, and look at early Kurdish periodicals, you find women. You discover these forgotten voices. An interesting example of that is Zeyneb Xan, who published under the pseudonym of Kiche Kurd (“Kurdish girl”). In 2018, when a publisher was reprinting Galawej (the first Kurdish literary journal published in 1939–1949), they decided to have sections on contributing writers. They came across this name, and one of the researchers working on the project uncovered that the identity of the writer was Zeyneb Xan (1900–1963), the eldest sister of Dildar—a very well-known figure of Kurdish literature who wrote the Kurdish anthem. Although her family was a literary family and at the center of literary attention, her manuscript remained unpublished until 2018. Her truly fascinating poetry collection covers a wide range of themes from patriotism to women’s education and liberation.

Wild Women: An Interview with Aoko Matsuda and Polly Barton
by Sophia Stewart

For me, films and television programs, as well as books and comics, have always been the places where I can meet outsider women, weirdo women, rebel women, sometimes scary women. When I was a child, I didn’t care if these women were human beings or ghosts or monsters, and I didn’t care if they were from Japan or other countries. I was just drawn to them, encouraged by their existence.

To Protect Oneself From Violence: An Interview with Mónica Ojeda
by Rose Bialer

Maybe if I was born in some other place, I would be writing about something else, but I do believe that Latin America is a very violent continent, especially for women, and in all of our traditions of women’s literature, there have always been women writing horror stories in Latin America. . .  I do believe that it’s because you can’t write about anything else. That’s how you live life. You are afraid for your life. You are scared of the violence in your family, the violence between your friends, the violence in the street. You can’t think about anything else except how to protect yourself from violence.


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Weekly Dispatches From the Front Lines of World Literature

Literary News from Palestine, Central America, Romania, and Spain!

Join us this week with a new batch of literary dispatches covering a new Palestinian literary and culture magazine, the 2023 PEN Open Book Award longlist, and more. From a Palestinian literary festival to the birthday celebration for the “national poet” of Romania, read on to learn more!

Carol Khoury, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Palestine

A first is always exciting, always an event; in fact, it’s called “a first” even if a second never comes. And when there is a second time, it’s an opportunity to celebrate and to remember the first.

This week the Palestinian literary community is anticipating both a first and a second.

The Palestinian literary scene is witnessing the birth of Fikra Magazine, an online Palestinian cultural and literary magazine – writing and art by and for Palestinians. According to partners and co-founders Aisha and Kevin, Fikra is dedicated to “high-quality content that doesn’t conform to stereotypes and old-fashioned ideas about Palestine. It’s original, it’s inspiring, it’s bold.” What is exciting about this new publication is that every piece is professionally translated from Arabic to English—or vice versa. Since “Palestinians in the Diaspora often don’t read Arabic as their mother tongue,” the creators say in their promotional materials, “we want our writers to become part and parcel of the international writing-guild as well.” In Fikra, the creators promise, “you’ll find Palestinian writers and artists from all corners of the word – from Gaza, the West-Bank, East-Jerusalem, 48, and the diaspora.”

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Weekly Dispatches From the Front Lines of World Literature

The latest from Romania and the Philippines!

In this week’s literary round-up, we’re bringing coverage from the myriad intrigues of world literature, from storybooks highlighting Indigenous narratives to diasporic Romanian writers, romance writing to exiled heroes. Read on to find out more!

MARGENTO, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Spain and Romania 

As the Romanian literary scene is gearing up for the twenty-ninth edition of Gaudeamus book fair, organized by Radio Romania in Bucharest from December 7 through the 11, the literary diaspora is both very active and a hot topic in and of itself. A one-day seminar, entitled “European Cultural Representations of Romanian Migration and Exiles” took place at the Romanian Centre, Complutense University of Madrid (UCM) last week. Presentations and roundtables on highlights from the Romanian diaspora across the Western world—such as religious studies international icon and fiction writer Mircea Eliade, Romanian-Spanish comparative literature pioneer Alexandre [Alejandro] Cioranescu, and former Asymptote contributor Matéi Visniec—were complemented by excursuses into the work and lives of personalities relevant to both Romanian and Spanish literatures. Former Asymptote contributor Felix Nicolau, Director of the Romanian Centre and Romanian Language and Literature Lecturer, gave a talk about Alexandru Busuioceanu: a poet, art historian, and essayist credited for establishing Romanian as an academic subject at UCM back in the mid-twentieth century, after founding the UCM Romanian Centre in 1943.

Another major name of the diaspora is Paul Goma, renowned opponent of Ceaușescu’s regime and dissident fiction writer forced into exile (to Paris, France) in the late 1970s, after having survived numerous attempts on his life staged by the Romanian communist secret police or their accessories—only to die from COVID in 2020. A hot-off-the-press book dedicated to the dissident hero by historian, poet, essayist, and Goma scholar Flori Balanescu, Paul Goma: Conștiință istorică și conștiință literară [Historical Conscience, Literary Conscience], is to be launched at Gaudeamus in a week’s time, and it has already grabbed considerable attention on social media. Awarded poet and fiction writer O. Nimigean, himself a Parisian exile, commented on the text as a breakthrough release and expressed his impatience to read the sequel—an already planned book he indirectly disclosed as having insider knowledge on. Such updates can only further stir interest—if not inevitable kerfuffle—since the (albeit rare) publications about Goma expose, just as the author’s own novels did, the collaborationism under communism of certain established literati or public figures: an implication to which the latter usually retort with accusations of anti-semitism. READ MORE…

Memory as Terrain, Museum, Dictionary: On Kirmen Uribe’s Bilbao—New York—Bilbao

The mythologization of one’s personal repertoire begs the question of significance: what makes something worth telling?

Bilbao—New York—Bilbao by Kirmen Uribe, translated from the Basque by Elizabeth Macklin, Coffee House Press, 2022

“I realized that our dad’s whole family history was made up of round trips, flights, and returnings,” reflects author Kirmen Uribe. Bilbao–New York–Bilbao, a novel which won Uribe the 2009 National Prize for Literature in Spain, stems from the family history in question. Translated from the Basque by Elizabeth Macklin, it is a sort of metanovel that straddles fact and fiction, laying its mechanisms bare. Within the brackets of his own travel—a flight from Bilbao to New York—the narrator’s mind rambles through various elements he would like to weave into his hypothetical novel: interviews, folklore, philosophical reflections, images, and anecdotes. He meditates on structure and process, always on the precipice of making decisions, giving the whole novel the impression that it’s just about to start.

Uribe is from the Basque fishing town of Ondarroa, where the men have historically spent large parts of the year on the water. Urbanization, industrialization, and the mechanization of the fishing industry have by now, however, made the traditional way of life nearly obsolete. As a member of the intermediary generation, the rhythm of this extended round-trip journey is still familiar to Uribe; movement is not a means to an end, but a comfortable and creative mode of being that always ends in a provisional homecoming.

Throughout, the reader senses that his search for the novel’s structure is a search for meaning. Uribe’s desire for the moments that make up his personal, family, and national history to coalesce into narrative is tangible, though he struggles to make them conform. Details, encounters, images—he feels their weight and wants a story to give them coherence. But they resist, and his resulting frustration is echoed by the reader. When a new anecdote begins, we wonder: where does this fit in? Why should I immerse myself in this moment? Is this character major or minor?

Memory has always been the terrain that grounds seemingly disparate moments, and Uribe’s memory is like the ocean maps that his ancestors drew for their fishing journeys; the features depicted are those most salient to the cartographer. Before the time of GPS, Uribe recalls his father drafting a map of his habitual fishing ground off the coast of an uninhabited Scottish island called Rockall. It was a personal map, jealously guarded, that showed the significant underwater features and the migratory patterns of the fish. Rockall echoes through the novel, looming large like a landmark, as it would have been for Uribe in his youth—the place where his father was when he wasn’t home. I looked it up on Google Maps, but as I zoomed out to see where it was in relation to the United Kingdom, it quickly disappeared. READ MORE…

Fall 2022: Highlights from the Team

Where to start with our glorious Fall 2022 issue? Here are some entry points, courtesy of our global team!

Emma Ramadan’s work as a translator has been so important to me and my literary journey—not least because of the attentiveness she lends to the writers she translates from Francophone North Africa, such as Ahmed Bouanani. I also really admire the way she speaks about her process with Claire Mullen in her interview, the passion and commitment and genuineness that shine through, for instance, in how she discusses her feelings at finally finding a copy of Molinard’s Panics. It reminded me a little of Alice Guthrie’s work with Malika Moustadraf’s Blood Feast, which was also out of print and circulated online as low quality scans.

I really love the slow, meditative writing of Dejan Atanacković’s absent narrator in Lusitania (tr. Rachael Daum). When it ranges with a kind of radical exteriority over the ephemera that remains of Teofilović, and the marginal annotations of Stojimirović that accompany his journals, it reads almost like the prose of Sebald—with the enigma of Teofilović as one such central, inaccessible figure around which the story endlessly circles, never losing sight of the larger political and social context.

Laksmi Pamuntjak’s “The Tale of Mukaburung” could easily have been written and translated to pander to a white gaze, and it’s really to the credit of both Pamuntjak and her translator Annie Tucker that there is a pervasive self-sufficiency to the story and its world, a refusal to explain itself, a matter-of-fact revelling in the ordinariness of its own magic and ritual. This seems especially commendable when a dominant affect in the story is puzzlement and defensiveness, in confrontation with foreigners whose presence and purpose are unknown, even to the reader, until much later in the story when it is revealed that many among them are political prisoners.

—Alex Tan, Senior Assistant Editor (Fiction)

Olavo Amaral’s “Steppe (tr. Isobel Foxford) is exquisite in every way: the writing of the translation, the unusual subject matter, the relationship and emerging love between the two main characters and how it is described, the mood created by the atmosphere of snow and remoteness.

I have been following closely the horrors of Putin’s war in Ukraine and though still angry and frustrated by its continuation, I thought I was fairly hardened to the extent of Russian atrocities. But I broke down towards the end of Galina Itskovich’s War Diary (tr. Maria Bloshteyn), where the unspeakable rape and violence against children is put into words.

—Janet Phillips, Assistant Managing Editor

Kudos to Jonathan Chan for beautifully translating such ancient poems of Choe Chi-won, whose characteristic loneliness metaphorized in natural images is successfully rendered in translation.

think one of the most important missions of Asymptote is to sustain languages under oppression, be that a national language that is close to extinction or the voice of a people amid a political process of erasure. Lauren Bo’s review of The Backstreets by Perhat Tursun undertakes this mission in remarkable earnest and rigor, by not only posing the biopolitical question of survival faced by the Uyghurs but also diligently analyzing the text via a close reading, and ultimately marrying the two to derive a conclusion that engages readers with the enduring challenge of humanity that surpasses the violence that is immediately palpable: “The Backstreets is an account of survival and a reminder that even the cruelest elements of humanity are fabricated out of absurdity and fear of the uncertain.”

The elusive language of Krikor Beledian’s “Unpeopled Language” (tr. Taline Voskeritchian and Christopher Millis) is delicate yet piercing, and while  the history of the Armenian genocide cannot be separated from the poetics of Beledian, its implementation of “the tool against the game of expression“ speaks to the broader context of the survival of a people and their language in and after the era of mass murder.  

—Megan Sungyoon, Assistant Editor (Poetry)

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Blog Editors’ Highlights: Fall 2022

Writing life as it is lived—that is, writing life that is half-lived.

In our Fall 2022 issue, we are presenting work ranging across thirty-two countries and nineteen languages, moving and shifting the demarcations of nation and language with the fluidity and imaginative capacities of language. Here, blog editor Xiao Yue Shan presents a roadmap through some of the most moving, exciting content encased within this latest release, including a text from our feature on Armenian literature, an essay on the “job” of writing from Catalan writer Montserrat Roig, and a Indonesian fiction of human distancescolonial, geographical, and carnal.

In every country there is a river, along the banks of every river there are people, and within the minds of each person there persists a single heartbeat of a mind that begins, as they situate themselves along the river, to pulse with that river’s inimitable current, to infiltrate that moment of flow with a different rhythm, that which they have carried with them and now relieve into the waters, and the water does what it does—it merges. In Aram Pachyan’s fluid, lyrical excerpt from P/F, translated sensitively from the Armenian by Nazareth Seferian, this instance of communion is fortified with the author’s masterful command of oratory and soliloquial language, iterating a return to faith “. . . like the prodigal son, sitting on your rib seeing my salvation in your murky waters, my peace in your obscurity, the lymph of life still gurgling in your grime.” The excerpt demonstrates not only the immense living intelligence of inhuman bodies, but also their pivotal and profound point of contact with human emotion—grief, loneliness, resolution, and hope. P/F is described as a text that swims in memory, and even in this brief extract we are afforded a wide-ranging glimpse at memory’s infinitely mutable potentials, of the seeds of experience which exponentiate into monuments of time, equally deceptive as it is formative, equally polluted as it is seeking of purity, and ever-changing even as it attempts to convince us of its sameness. In long, ranging lines melding concrete situation with poetic abstractions, Pachyan begins to tells us of this river:

This is not the Euphrates, nor the Tigris; not the Seine, the Thames, the Danube, nor the Po. The Getar has no bloodline in common with the daughter of the ocean, the Styx that flows in the land of Hades. The gods have not taken any oaths on its waters. There are no emphatic proverbs about it, no books or odes. It is left out of all possible discussions, it is off the planet’s axis.

And still it flows, merging what is cast in with what is hidden in its depths, and it is this movement that reminds us of the eternal sanctuary, in cities and villages alike, where one can stand and watch one thing become another, to watch time become memory and memory urge back to feed once again into time, and find in this merging some solace. READ MORE…