The Brooklyn Book Festival is on Sunday, and has a host of interesting events scheduled. (I’d include the link, but the website doesn’t allow it.)
One that I’m definitely going to attend is “Brooklyn Bridges to Europe,” 3pm on Sunday at St. Francis College (180 Remsen St.):
Brooklyn authors Jonathan Lethem and Jonathan Safran Foer, in conversation with their French and German publishers, explore the appeal of their work to European audiences. Presented with The Cultural Services of the French Embassy, the French-American Foundation and the German Book Office in New York. Moderated by literary critic Liesl Schillinger.
This is part of the “Editors Exchange Program in New York” that the German Book Office, Cultural Services of the French Embassy, and French-American Foundation are putting on.
In addition to the BBF event, there’s a panel on “Promoting Literature in Translation Online” Monday at 11am and an “Editors’ ‘Buzz’ Panel” on Monday at 5. Both of these events will take place at the Deutsches Haus NYU (42 Washington Mews, off University Place).
Both events should be pretty interesting. I’ll be on the Translations Online panel with people from Words Without Borders, In Translation, PEN America, and elsewhere, and the Buzz panel will give editors from L’Olivier, Editions Allia, Harcourt, DuMont, Wylie Agency (?!), P.O.L., Houghton-Mifflin, and Tropen Verlag a chance to discuss their latest publications or books in progress.
“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. . .