A few years back, I was lucky enough to participate in TyPA’s annual Editor’s Week in Buenos Aires. It was an absolutely amazing experience (which I wrote about here) that involved meeting lots of interesting publishers and writers, learning even more about Argentine literature than I thought possible, and becoming friends with very interesting editors from around the world. This also (to varying degrees) led to our publishing Macedonio Fernandez, Juan Jose Saer, Sergio Chejfec, etc.
Anyway, TyPA is accepting applications from editors to attend their next Editor’s Week, and anyone reading this who works in publishing should definitely apply.
Here’s the info from the press release:
Ten editors are invited to spend a week in Buenos Aires, where they will listen to talks about contemporary Argentine literature, meet authors, critics and journalists, visit publishing houses, bookstores, cultural centers and the Buenos Aires Book Fair. There will also be special meetings as requested by the participants.
The general grant covers all local costs: lodging, food, urban transportation, etc. There are also a few complete grants, which include air tickets.
WHO SHOULD APPLY:
Publishers and editors working with translated fiction. We may also consider a limited number of applications by translators and critics. Candidates have to be able to read and understand Spanish in order to profit from the visit, since all events will be held in that language.
HOW TO APPLY:
Send a curriculum vitae and a letter explaining why you would like to apply to: email@example.com
DEADLINE FOR APPLICATIONS:Friday, November 10, 2011.
ANNOUNCEMENT OF PARTICIPANTS:Monday, December 19, 2011
FOR MORE INFORMATION PLEASE CLICK HERE.
Prose translators will likely disagree, but I believe translating poetry requires a significant level of talent, a commitment to the text, and near mania, all of which suggests that the undertaking is the greatest possible challenge. The task is to. . .
The biggest issues with books like The Subsidiary often have to do with their underpinnings—when we learn that Georges Perec wrote La Disparition without once using the letter E, we are impressed. Imagine such a task! It takes a high. . .
Following The Infatuations, Javier Marías’s latest novel seems, like those that have preceded it, an experiment to test fiction’s capacity to mesmerize with sombre-sexy atmospheres and ruminative elongated sentences stretched across windowless walls of paragraphs. Thus Bad Begins offers his. . .
Death by Water, Kenzaburo Oe’s latest novel to be translated into English, practically begs you to read it as autobiography. Like The Changeling, as well as many other works not yet released in English, Death by Water is narrated in. . .
Jocelyne Saucier’s Twenty-One Cardinals is about the type of unique, indestructible, and often tragic loyalty only found in families. For a brief but stunningly mesmerizing 169 pages, Twenty-One Cardinals invited me in to the haunting and intimate world of the. . .
We know so very little; so little that what we think to be knowledge is hardly worth reckoning with at all; instead we ought to settle for being pleasantly surprised if, on the edge of things, against all expectations, our. . .
Many of Virginie Despentes’s books revolve around the same central idea: “To be born a woman [is] the worst fate in practically every society.” But this message is nearly always packaged in easy-to-read books that fill you with the pleasure. . .
Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer’s La Superba is appropriately titled after the Italian city of Genoa, where, after escaping the pressures of fame in his own country, the semi-autobiographical narrator finds himself cataloguing the experiences of its mesmerizing inhabitants with the intention. . .
It took reading 44 pages of Intervenir/Intervene before I began to get a sense of what Dolores Dorantes and Rodrigo Flores Sánchez were up to. Recurring throughout these 44 pages—throughout the entire book—are shovels, shovel smacks to the face, lobelias—aha!. . .
As presaged by its title, contradiction is the theme of Peter Stamm’s novel, All Days Are Night. Gillian, a well-known television personality, remains unknowable to herself. And Hubert, a frustrated artist and Gillian’s lover, creates art through the process of. . .