Next month, the German Book Office in New Delhi is putting on two interesting events:
The first is a Translators Meeting on Tuesday the 6th at the German Book Office featuring a discussion on literary translations:
Literary translation is an art that takes time, talent and determination to develop, but it is also a profession which places translators in the multifaceted publishing and media industry and is governed by international copyright laws. The discussion will focus on the status and working conditions of literary translators in Europe and will give examples of best practice in the relationship between translators and publishers, and of the infrastructures providing support for professional translators.
If you are a translator & want to attend, please write to info [at] gbo-newdelhi [dot] org
The second is a “Lost in Translation” session at the Kovalam Literary Festival (Taj Green Cove, Kovalam, Trivandrum) on Thursday, October 8th from 4-6pm.
Literary translation is an art that takes time, talent and determination to develop, but it is also a profession which places translators in the multifaceted publishing and media industry and is governed by international copyright laws.
The seminar focuses on the various practical aspects of translation with inputs from the German Book Office, Literature Across Frontiers and Kannan Sundaram, a publisher engaging primarily in translations.
With information status and working conditions of literary translators in Europe and examples of best practice in the relationship between translators and publishers, and of the infrastructures providing support for professional translators, the seminar will also elaborate on the condition of the same in India. Involving primarily translators, the seminar would also be beneficial for
editors/publishers/authors all of whom are an integral part of the translation process.
Though far from the most convincing reason to read literature in translation, one common side effect is learning of another culture, of its history. Within that, and a stronger motivation to read, is the discovery of stories not possible within. . .
Despite cries that literature is dead, dying, and self-replicating in the worst way, once in a while a book comes along to remind readers that there’s still a lot of surprise to be found on the printed page. To be. . .
“I was small. And my village was small, I came to know that in time. But when I was small it was big for me, so big that when I had to cross it from one end to the other,. . .
A few weeks after moving into a farm house in the Welsh countryside, Emilie, an expatriate from the Netherlands, starts to think about her uncle. This uncle tried to drown himself in a pond in front of the hotel where. . .
Think back to the last adventure- or action-type book you read. Wasn’t it cool? Didn’t it make you want to do things, like learn to shoot a crossbow, hack complicated information systems, travel to strange worlds, take on knife-wielding thugs,. . .
In Aira’s Shantytown, while we’re inside the characters’ heads for a good portion of the story, the voice we read on the page is really that of Aira himself, as he works out the plot of the book he’s writing.. . .
Noir is not an easy genre to define—or if it once was, that was a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away; as a quick guess, maybe Silver Lake, Los Angeles, 1935. When two books as different as. . .
Some time ago I read this phrase: “The page is the only place in the universe God left blank for me.”
Pedro Mairal’s short novel The Missing Year of Juan Salvatierra is more about these blank spaces than the usual full. . .
“What if even in the afterlife you have to know foreign languages? Since I have already suffered so much trying to speak Danish, make sure to assign me to the Polish zone . . .”
So reads a typical aphoristic “poem”. . .
If you somehow managed to overlook the 2012 translation of Andrés Neuman’s breathtaking Traveler of the Century (and woe betide all whom continue to do so), you now have two exceptional works of fiction from the young Argentine virtuoso demanding. . .