As the year comes to a close, we thought we’d take a minute to look back at what we’ve done over the past twelve months. It’s also that time of year when we thank you for your continued support, and ask for your help in the year to come by participating in our Annual Campaign.
You probably already know that Three Percent and Open Letter are nonprofits housed at the University of Rochester, and, as such, our annual revenue comes from a few diverse sources, including book sales, foundational support, and governmental support (from here and abroad). Our most important source of funding, however, comes from individuals, like you, interested in furthering the appreciation of international literature.
Thanks to the support of our readers and fans, we’ve accomplished more over the past year than ever before:
• We published 10 critically-acclaimed titles from around the world, including two that made Kirkus’s Best Fiction of 2012 list;
• We were awarded our first NEA Publishing Art Works grant for an amazing $45,000, one of the largest prizes awarded to any literary organization in the U.S.;
• The Reading the World Conversation Series entered its fifth season;
• Awarded the fifth annual Best Translated Book Awards;
• Continued to expand Three Percent, celebrating literature in translation;
• Offered internships and fellowships to students from around the world interested in getting into the publishing field.
So, with our achievements higher and our momentum stronger than ever before, your continued interest has never been more vital, or more appreciated. Our goal is to foster a healthy book culture—something that wouldn’t be possible without you.
To that end, please consider supporting Three Percent and Open Letter. Your tax-deductible contribution to our Annual Campaign — online or via mail with this donation form — will ensure that this important undertaking continues to flourish, expand, and engage with more readers than ever before.
Chad W. Post
Art & Operations
“I preferred the war to the plague,” writes Curzio Malaparte in his 1949 novel, The Skin. He speaks of World War II and the destruction it has wrought on Italy, the city of Naples in particular. But the plague he. . .
With the steady rise of feminist scholarship and criticism in recent decades, it is little wonder that the work of Louise Labé should be attracting, as Richard Sieburth tells us in the Afterword to his translation, a “wide and thriving”. . .
In Conversations, we find ourselves again in the protagonist’s conscious and subconscious, which is mostly likely that of Mr. César Aira and consistent with prototypical Aira style. This style never fails because each time Aira is able to develop a. . .
You are not ashamed of what you do, but of what they see you do. Without realizing it, life can be an accumulation of secrets that permeates every last minute of our routine . . .
The narrative history of. . .
Literature in translation often comes with a certain pedigree. In this little corner of the world, with so few books making it into this comforting nook, it is often those of the highest quality that cross through, and attention is. . .
Alessandro Baricco’s Mr. Gwyn is a set of two loosely interlinked novellas that play with narrative and the construction of character. Ably translated by Ann Goldstein, Mr. Gwyn plays some subtle metafictional games as Baricco delves into what it means. . .
I must admit upfront that I went into reading Saadat Hasan Manto’s Bombay Stories almost entirely blind. I have not read Salman Rushdie. I have read, perhaps, two short stories by Jhumpa Lahiri. I might shamefully add that I really. . .