13 March 12 | Chad W. Post

The latest addition to our Reviews Section is an extremely well-written and well-crafted piece by Grant Barber on Watchword by Pura López Colomé, which is translated from the Spanish by Forrest Gander and available from Wesleyan Press.

In addition to writing such a fantastic review, Grant decided to interview Forrest Gander about being a translator and poet. (In case you missed it, Forrest was a finalist for this year’s National Book Critics Circle award in poetry.)

Here’s the interview in full:

Grant Barber: Forrest, you are not only a poet and translator of poetry—Spanish and Japanese (and ?)—also a professor, essayist, fiction writer, book publisher; traveler in conversation with others in Latin America, Serbia, Sarajevo (and other places as well I bet). Are there principles of first-concern for you, some things essential, an overall vision, that tie all of these varied engagements together?

Forrest Gander: Maybe just curiosity, Grant. I want to know what the poets are up to in other places, what I might learn, how we are members of one another. Regarding the various genres, I like the whole hog of the art. I cut my teeth on writing during a time of great formal innovation and genre never seemed particularly restrictive. (Maybe it helped that I studied science as well as literature).

GB: Watchword is a continuation of the translation work you’ve already done—another Pura López Colomé title is No Shelter, a selected poems volume you translated. How does Watchword fit into her oeuvre in general and the selected poem volume specifically?

FG: My first inclination was to say that Watchword is even more intense. But then I think of those bleak poems of hope in No Shelter, its fierce fidelities to the transformative power of language, its spiritual hunger, and I think that No Shelter is just as intense. But Watchword is more concentrated—the gravity of her illness had a lot to do with that—and Pura’s techniques are more honed. There is also a resuscitative joyousness in her focus on friends and family in Watchword. The whole book is like a life flashing before the reader’s eyes.

GB: How is it that you become aware of the writers you translate—Pura López Colomé, Coral Bracho, Jaime Saenz, and the poets of earlier collection of yours, Mouth to Mouth: Poems by 12 Mexican Women and Connecting Lines: New Poetry from Mexico? When I’ve been in bookstores in Oaxaca, Panama City, Quito, I’ve seen all of these books by Spanish writers about whom I’ve heard nothing. You see these piles of books that look so promising, and at least I think to myself, “now only if my Spanish were just a bit better, I could read all of these authors.” To a bibliophile it is a minor torment. So, back to my original question: how do you discover and choose?

FG: The great thing about living writers is that you can contact them and if they’re poets, they’re delighted to hear from a reader. Someone whose work I admire will turn me onto other writers. Also, I’ll pay attention to which presses are publishing the writers I like and I’ll check out other books from those presses. I came across Coral Bracho’s book—the first book I found—in a newspaper stand beside a stack of Super Macho comics in the dusty little town of Dolores Hidalgo. I included her in that first anthology, Mouth to Mouth, but I knew right away that I wanted to come back and translate a lot of her work. It took me more than a decade.

GB: So you have this ongoing relationship with Pura López Colomé, who is herself a translator not only of English but other languages, into Spanish. Did you have conversations with her as you translated about word choices, intent, tone?

FG: With the first book, No Shelter, Pura was shockingly uninvolved. She was completely supportive, but didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with the translation. I think, in part, she was trying to push me to go further on my own. At the time, my Spanish wasn’t as good as it is now and I think she was kind of throwing me into the pool to get me to swim. With the new book, we did work together over a period of two or three days and she was fabulously helpful as I worked through a first draft.

GB: What’s next for you? What project will see print next? Or perhaps it’s not something that will be “incarnate” in a book? What holds your intellectual passion these days?

FG: I’ve just finished a book of translations of a very reclusive poet who lives in the jungle outside Cuernavaca, who knows the names of the local plants and their medicinal properties, who knows the names of the stars, rocks, lizards. And whose work is formally innovative, beautiful and odd and particular. Copper Canyon is going to publish Fungus Skull Eye Wing: The Selected Poems of Alfonso D’Aquino in 2013. Meanwhile, I’m finishing an anthology of contemporary poets from Spain, mostly the youngbloods who are shaking things up, but I include three major older writers who have been beacons for the younger generation. That anthology is Panic Cure: Poems from Spain for the 21st Century. I’m sending it out to publishers just now. That doesn’t really answer your question about “intellectual passion“—or answers it only partly.

*

Click here to read Grant’s full review of Watchword.


Comments are disabled for this article.
....
Fear: A Novel of World War I
Fear: A Novel of World War I by Gabriel Chevallier
Reviewed by Paul Doyle

One hundred years have passed since the start of World War I and it is difficult to believe that there are still novels, considered classics in their own countries, that have never been published in English. Perhaps it was the. . .

Read More >

Little Grey Lies
Little Grey Lies by Hédi Kaddour
Reviewed by P. T. Smith

In the London of Hédi Kaddour’s Little Grey Lies, translated by Teresa Lavender Fagan, peace has settled, but the tensions, fears, and anger of the Great War remain, even if tucked away behind stories and lies. Directly ahead, as those. . .

Read More >

Autobiography of a Corpse
Autobiography of a Corpse by Sigizmund Krzhizhanovsky
Reviewed by Simon Collinson

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. . .

Read More >

A Musical Hell
A Musical Hell by Alejandra Pizarnik
Reviewed by Vincent Francone

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. . .

Read More >

Astragal
Astragal by Albertine Sarrazin
Reviewed by Tiffany Nichols

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. . .

Read More >

Live Bait
Live Bait by Fabio Genovesi
Reviewed by Megan Berkobien

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. . .

Read More >

The Skin
The Skin by Curzio Malaparte
Reviewed by Peter Biello

“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. . .

Read More >

Love Sonnets & Elegies
Love Sonnets & Elegies by Louise Labé
Reviewed by Brandy Harrison

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”. . .

Read More >

Conversations
Conversations by César Aira
Reviewed by Tiffany Nichols

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. . .

Read More >

Nothing Ever Happens
Nothing Ever Happens by José Ovejero
Reviewed by Juan Carlos Postigo

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. . .

Read More >