As the Frankfurt Book Fair grows closer, there’s sure to be more and more articles and events promoting Catalan literature, and as a big fan of the Ramon Llull Institut and Barcelona, I’ll try and share as many as possible. One interesting program I came across today is GeoGraphia: Literary Landscapes:
GeoGraphia is a joint initiative by the Institut Ramon Llull, the Goethe-Institut and Literaturhaus.net to boost knowledge of Catalan and German literature in each other’s countries through an interchange of authors.
Three pairs, each made up of one German and one Catalan writer, will share their experiences on a journey through their respective countries. Acting at the same time as host and guest, native and foreigner, this journey there and back seeks to reveal the ego and the other and their roots, their common culture. During the journey, the writers will appear before audiences in a number of cities in Germany and Austria (at the Literaturhäuser) and in Catalonia, Valencia and Mallorca. The project will be presented at the Frankfurt Book Fair in October 2007.
Should be interesting, especially considering the participating writers: Katja Lange-Müller and Enric Sòria; Keto von Waberer and Carme Riera; and Michael Ebmeyer and Jordí Puntí.
The July-August issue of World Literature Today—a special issue entitled “Inside China”—is now out, with some of the articles available online.
It’s interesting to me that WLT is focusing on China. Recently, PEN America/Ramon Llull Institut released a special study on Globalization and Translation that included statistics on the number of books translated into English from around the world. As part of the study (which should be available online sometime soon, and when it is, we’ll definitely link to it), there were “Case Studies” from a number of different countries. Including China, which had this chilling statistic:
According to the national statistics, China produces about 110,000 new titles per year. [. . .] But the number of those new titles that were translated into other languages, as far as can be told from an extensive Internet search, was less than 100 titles for 2003. This means about 0.01% of Chinese books are being translated into other languages.
After hearing awful insular statistic after isolationist statistic, I didn’t think anything could shock me. But 0.01%?! Less than 100 titles translated into all other languages throughout the world! The only bright side is that there must be a ton of interesting Chinese titles available for an ambitious press to find . . .
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. . .
Mahasweta Devi is not only one of the most prolific Bengali authors, but she’s also an important activist. In fact, for Devi, the two seem to go together. As you can probably tell from the titles, she writes about women. . .
The prolific Spanish author Benito Pérez Galdós wrote his short novel, Tristana, during the closing years of the nineteenth century, a time when very few options were available to women of limited financial means who did not want a husband.. . .
Pedro Zarraluki’s The History of Silence (trans. Nick Caistor and Lorenza García) begins with the narrator and his wife, Irene, setting out to write a book about silence, itself called The History of Silence: “This is the story of how. . .
There are plenty of reasons you can fail to find the rhythm of a book. Sometimes it’s a matter of discarding initial assumptions or impressions, sometimes of resetting oneself. Zigmunds Skujiņš’s Flesh-Coloured Dominoes was a defining experience in the necessity. . .
In a culture that privileges prose, reviewing poetry is fairly pointless. And I’ve long since stopped caring about what the world reads and dropped the crusade to get Americans to read more poems. Part of the fault, as I’ve suggested. . .
I would like to pose the argument that it is rare for one to ever come across a truly passive protagonist in a novel. The protagonist (perhaps) of Three Light-Years, Claudio Viberti, is just that—a shy internist who lives in. . .