Following on yesterday’s spectacular Ledig House event (we’ll have the video up soon), it only seems appropriate to spread the word about Amazon’s latest grant to this admirable organization. From the press release:
Writers Omi at Ledig House, a part of Omi International Arts Center, has been awarded a $26,000 grant from Amazon.com to support two “Amazon.com Translator Fellowships” in 2012. Both fellowships will support a one-month residency at Ledig House for the selected translators. Application for the Amazon.com Translator Fellowships will be open for all translators who wish to apply.
In addition to the translator fellowships, Amazon.com will fund Translation Lab, a week-long special, intensive residency for five collaborating writer-translator teams in the spring of 2012.
With the support of Amazon.com, Ledig House will invite five American translators to Ledig House for one week. These translators will be invited along with the writers whose work they are translating. This focused residency will provide an integral stage of refinement, allowing translators to dialogue with the writers about text-specific questions. It will also serve as an essential community-builder for English-language translators who are working to increase the amount of international literature available to American readers.
According to Ledig House’s director, DW Gibson, “Translators often talk about the questions they compile for authors they are translating, questions of great nuance that require discussion, questions about the history or intension of a word, phrase, or bit of slang. Translation Lab will give translators the opportunity to directly address these questions in a collaborative setting.”
Ledig House’s basic program is absolutely fantastic, and I think the Translation Lab will be a huge boon for translators, since that interaction is extremely valuable. And the Ledig House is a fantastic space to work . . .
“Rambling Jack—what’s that?”
“A novel. Novella, I guess.”
“Yeah, it looks short. What is it, a hundred pages?”
“Sorta. It’s a duel language book, so really, only about… 50 pages total.”
“And this—what. . .
Many authors are compared to Roberto Bolaño. However, very few authors have the privilege of having a Roberto Bolaño quote on the cover of their work; and at that, one which states, “Good readers will find something that can be. . .
In Josep Maria de Sagarra’s Private Life, a man harangues his friend about literature while walking through Barcelona at night:
When a novel states a fact that ties into another fact and another and another, as the chain goes on. . .
César Aira dishes up an imaginative parable on how identity shapes our sense of belonging with Dinner, his latest release in English. Aira’s narrator (who, appropriately, remains nameless) is a self-pitying, bitter man—in his late fifties, living again with. . .
Originally published in French in 2007, We’re Not Here to Disappear (On n’est pas là pour disparaître) won the Prix Wepler-Fondation La Poste and the Prix Pierre Simon Ethique et Réflexion. The work has been recently translated by Béatrice Mousli. . .
Even though the latest from Jean Echenoz is only a thin volume containing seven of what he calls “little literary objects,” it is packed with surprises. In these pieces, things happen below the surface, sometimes both literally and figuratively. As. . .
Who is this woman? This is the question that opens Xiao Bai’s French Concession, a novel of colonial-era Shanghai’s spies and revolutionaries, police and smugglers, who scoot between doorways, walk nonchalantly down avenues, smoke cigars in police bureaus, and lounge. . .
For the past 140 years, Anna Karenina has been loved by millions of readers all over the world. It’s easy to see why: the novel’s two main plots revolve around characters who are just trying to find happiness through love.. . .
Linn Ullmann’s The Cold Song, her fifth novel, is built much like the house about which its story orbits: Mailund, a stately white mansion set in the Norwegian countryside a few hours drive from Oslo. The house, nestled into the. . .
Karel Schoeman’s Afrikaans novel, This Life, translated by Else Silke, falls into a genre maybe only noticed by the type of reader who tends toward Wittgenstein-type family resemblances. The essential resemblance is an elderly narrator, usually alone—or with one other. . .