(A glamorous shelf in my glamorous office filled with BTBA titles.)
Just a reminder that after five weeks of build-up, we’ll be announcing the fiction and poetry finalists for this year’s Best Translated Book Awards tonight at 7pm tonight at Idlewild Books (12 W. 19th St.).
Cressida Leyshon will be moderating the event, and Idra Novey (poet, translator, executive director of the Center for Literary Translation at Columbia University) will announce the poetry books, and I’ll do the honors for the fiction.
Most of the time will be spent mingling and drinking wine (and hopefully buying books), and it promises to be a lot of fun. So if you’re in the NY area, be sure to come out.
Oh, and yeah, I’m totally open to bribes if anyone wants to find out what’s on the list before the event . . .
We still have a few (like seven) books from the fiction longlist left to profile, but to be honest, my attention is turning to next week’s announcement of the fiction and poetry finalists . . . As we did last year, we’ll be announcing 10 books from each category—truly the best of the best of the literature in translation published last year.
Rather than simply announce these on the website, this year we’re going to have a special event at Idlewild Books to celebrate the finalists.
So, next Tuesday, February 16th at 7pm, Cressida Leyshon of The New Yorker will host the festivities and Idra Novey and I will make the grand announcements. This won’t really be a formal panel—more a chance for us to talk about the importance of international literature and to bring some extra deserved attention to these books.
And, as with every great publishing party, there will be drinks.
Everyone reading this should definitely come, and tell all your journalist and blogger friends. It’d be great to use this event as the next push to bring attention to all of these wonderful books and the great translators who often go unappreciated . . .
Copies of all the books will be on hand as well so that attendees can cough financially support cough the publishers/authors/translators/Idlewild. (And all BTBA titles are 20% off . . . )
Hope to see you all there!
On Tuesday when we announced the Best Translated Book Award fiction longlist, we included links from each of the books to the Idlewild online catalog in hopes of directing some sales to our Indie Bookstore of the Month.
As an added incentive, Idlewild has decided to offer 20% off all BTBA books. Here’s a post from the recently redesigned Idlewild website with all the details.
What kind of dreamer opens a bookstore in a recession, gives it a nostalgic name that means nothing to most people under 40, and stocks it with travel guides and obscure foreign novels?
Meet David Del Vecchio, owner of Idlewild Books, who says business is thriving despite the odds against independent bookstores, the travel downturn and an economy that was already heading south when Idlewild opened in May 2008.
This event is not to be missed . . . On Thursday, April 9th at 7pm, Attila Bartis—author of Tranquility, which won this year’s Best Translated Book Award—will be appearing at Idlewild Books (12 West 19th St., NY) with author and translator Brian Evenson.
You can find our overview of Tranquility by clicking here, and here’s a blurb Evenson gave for the book: “Reading like the bastard child of Thomas Bernhard and Elfriede Jelinek, Tranquility is political and personal suffering distilled perfectly and transformed into dark, viscid beauty. It is among the most haunted, most honest, and most human novels I have ever read.”
According to Jill Schoolman, they’re going to try and videotape this conversation so that all of us living outside of NY will have a chance to see this incredible event . . . I’ll post an update as soon as this becomes available online.
Bookslut has an interview with David Del Vecchio, the owner of Idlewild Books:
At Idlewild, “International Literature” is not hidden away, but is featured and celebrated. To uncover a particular niche that is missing in the independent bookselling business is rare and exciting. To successfully open a bookstore in today’s economy is heroic. Idlewild’s owner, David Del Vecchio answered questions about his store.
What is your vision for Idlewild Books?
To create a resource, meeting place and event venue for people who are interested in other parts of the world — whether as travelers, readers, people interested in humanitarian issues, or some combination of the three. Even though we’re only four months old, we’re getting good word of mouth among customers and publishers and have had the privilege of hosting several book launch parties for travelogues, newly translated international lit, and books related to sexual trafficking, war-affected women and children, and other humanitarian issues. I want to continue to mix these topics and people in a unique and organic way, together with authors, publishers, cultural and humanitarian organizations, and, most importantly, our customers.
David Del Vecchio is all set to open Idlewild Books in NYC:
“I was in a chain bookstore and realized I would have to go to five different sections to get what I needed—a travel guide, a map, a language book, a novel,” he noted. “At Idlewild, everything will be shelved by country, and in the case of the United States, by state—that way people will be able to browse according to the place of their interest.”
This is stop number one for me next week when we’re in town.
Thanks to Literary Rapture for bringing Idlewild Books to our attention.
According to its sparse website, Idlewild is
a beautiful new store and event space near Union Square, is New York City’s only bookshop specializing in travel and international literature.
A bookstore organized by country rather than genre, Idlewild carries fiction and non-fiction from all parts of the world, including new and classic works in translation, travel guides, books about politics and culture, graphic lit, language-learning books, maps and more. Idlewild also carries a wide variety of travel accessories, cards and gifts — making the store a one-stop shop for travellers or people shopping for a gift.
Sounds very promising, but if you’re talking international bookstores in NY, one shouldn’t forget McNally Robinson, which organizes its fiction section by region. (Something that I did at Quail Ridge Books when I worked there, back, um, a while ago . . . It actually boosted sales for international fiction enormously, and although I understand the arguments for how this shelving system could ghettoize translations, there’s something appealing to me about being able to look through 50 Japanese books on one shelf rather than scanning through a section and only picking out the 5-10 that jump out at me.)
Founded in 1960 by such creative pioneers as George Perec, Raymond Queneau and Italo Calvino, the Oulipo, shorthand for Ouvroir de littérature potentielle, came about in when a group of writers and mathematicians sought constraints to find new structures and. . .
There’s little to say about a series of prose poems that willfully refuse to identify pronoun antecedents. Or perhaps there are a million things. The poems in Morse, My Deaf Friend— the chapbook by Miloš Djurdjević published by Ugly Duckling. . .
The Crimson Thread of Abandon is the first collection of short fiction available in English by the prolific Japanese writer and all-around avant-garde trickster Terayama Shūji, who died in 1983 at the age of 47. This collection would be important. . .
Last year, NYRB Classics introduced English-language readers to Catalan writer Josep Pla with Peter Bush’s translation of The Gray Notebook. In that book, Pla wrote about life in Spain during an influenza outbreak soon after World War I, when. . .
“Your bile is stagnant, you see sorrow in everything, you are drenched in melancholy,” my friend the doctor said.
bq. “Isn’t melancholy something from previous centuries? Isn’t some vaccine against it yet, hasn’t medicine taken care of it yet?” I. . .
What to make of Vano and Niko, the English translation of Erlom Akhvlediani’s work of the same name, as well as the two other short books that comprise a sort of trilogy? Quick searches will inform the curious reader that. . .
The opening of Jón Gnarr’s novel/memoir The Indian is a playful bit of extravagant ego, telling the traditional story of creation, where the “Let there be light!” moment is also the moment of his birth on January 2nd, 1967. Then. . .