Following up on Monday’s post, today is the official release day for The Three Percent Problem: Rants and Responses on Publishing, Translation, and the Future of Reading.
This “best of” collection is a fairly coherent survey of the contemporary publishing scene, ranging from an explanation of the economics of publishing translations, to profiles of translators, to rants about book marketing, technology, and 99 cent ebooks. It’s sort of like Andre Schiffrin’s The Business of Books, but with a lot more swearing.
Since the point of Three Percent is to support international literature, all of the proceeds from the sale of this $2.99 ebook will go directly to paying translators. So, in a way, you can think of this as a sort of $3, non tax-deductible, translation . . .
I’m urging everyone I know to buy this today, so that we can game the ranking system, and hopefully get this into the hands of readers who don’t otherwise support international literature.
So, go buy it now! (And gift a copy to all of your friends!)
Thanks in advance for your support, and I really hope you enjoy this!
Here’s the Amazon listing, and the one at BN.com. And if you don’t have a Kindle proper, but want to read this, here are links to all the various Kindle apps: iPhone, Droid, Blackberry, Windows Phone, Kindle for PC app, Kindle for Mac app, and the Kindle Cloud Reader.
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. . .
Upon completing Albertine Sarrazin’s Astragal I was left to wonder why it ever fell from print. Aside from the location, Astragal could pass as the great American novel. Its edginess and rawness capture the angst and desires we all had. . .
When my eyes first crossed the back cover of Fabio Genovesi’s novel Live Bait, I was caught by a blurb nestled between accolades, a few words from a reviewer for La Repubblica stating that the novel was, however magically, “[b]eyond. . .
“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. . .