Our events calendar is a bit empty right now (if you’re hosting—or attending—any interesting events related to international literature, please e-mail us so that we can include it on that calendar to the right . . ), but there are a number of interesting events coming up that might be of interest.
Following up on the last post about Natasha Wimmer, she’s actually doing two events next month in San Francisco for the Center for the Art of Translation. On October 6, she’d doing a Lit&Lunch event called “Translating a Latin American Superstar” and revolving around Roberto Bolano, and on October 7th, she’lll discuss Bolano with novelist Daniel Alarcón.
On the same two days but on the opposite coast, the Polish Cultural Institute (and a slew of partners, including Words Without Borders) are putting on series of events under the title “After Kapuscinski: The Art of Reportage in the 21st Century.” Participants include Anna Bikont, Ted Conover, Philip Gourevitch, Eliza Griswold, Wojciech Jagielski, Alistair Reid, Pawel Smolenski, Lawrence Weschler, and many others. Full event listings can be found here but all three panels will take place in the evening at NYU’s Hemmerdinger Hall.
Finally, this is a bit further off, but on November 6th, the Ramon Llull Institut is putting on a colloquium entitled “Standing in the Shadows: Catalan Literature and English Translation.” Admission is by invite only, but if you’re lucky enough to be invited (or interested enough to beg for an invite), it looks to be pretty interesting. Mary Ann Caws, Lyn Hejinian, Francesc Parcerisas, Carlin Romano, Jill Schoolman, will all be participating.
The central concern of Sorj Chalandon’s novel Return to Killybegs appears to be explaining how a person of staunch political activism can be lead to betray his cause, his country, his people. Truth be told, the real theme of the. . .
Spoiler alert: acclaimed writer Stefan Zweig and his wife Lotte kill themselves at the end of Lauren Seksik’s 2010 novel, The Last Days.
It’s hard to avoid spoiling this mystery. Zweig’s suicide actually happened, in Brazil in 1942, and since then. . .
To call Kjell Askildsen’s style sparse or terse would be to understate just how far he pushes his prose. Almost nothing is explained, elaborated on. In simple sentences, events occur, words are exchanged, narrators have brief thoughts. As often as. . .
After a mysterious woman confesses to an author simply known as “R” that she has loved him since she was a teenager, she offers the following explanation: “There is nothing on earth like the love of a child that passes. . .
Floating around the internet amid the hoopla of a new Haruki Murakami release, you may have come across a certain Murakami Bingo courtesy of Grant Snider. It is exactly what it sounds like, and it’s funny because it’s true,. . .
The publisher’s blurb for Oleg Pavlov’s The Matiushin Case promises the prospective reader “a Crime and Punishment for today,” the sort of comparison that is almost always guaranteed to do a disservice to both the legendary dead and the ambitious. . .
One hundred years have passed since the start of World War I and it is difficult to believe that there are still novels, considered classics in their own countries, that have never been published in English. Perhaps it was the. . .
In the London of Hédi Kaddour’s Little Grey Lies, translated by Teresa Lavender Fagan, peace has settled, but the tensions, fears, and anger of the Great War remain, even if tucked away behind stories and lies. Directly ahead, as those. . .
One of the greatest services—or disservices, depending on your viewpoint—Bertrand Russell ever performed for popular philosophy was humanizing its biggest thinkers in his History. No longer were they Platonic ideals, the clean-shaven exemplars of the kind of homely truisms that. . .
The best way to review Alejandra Pizarnik’s slim collection, A Musical Hell, published by New Directions as part of their Poetry Pamphlet series, is to begin by stating that it is poetry with a capital P: serious, dense, and, some. . .