I know that I’ve mentioned the fact that Rochester is hosting this year’s American Literary Translators Association conference before, but now that the dates are creeping up on us (October 3 is only 16 days away), it’s time to really start promoting this and filling you in on all of the insanely awesome activities.
Over the next 16 days, I’ll highlight different events and speakers, and hopefully post excerpts from the ALTA Fellows and some bilingual readers.
I’ll also share the hyphellipses tattoo that some of us are planning on getting during the conference. (And if you’re not into this particular tattoo, you should still consider coming along to ink yourself in some way. Translators who tattoo together, stay together. Or something.)
For now though, I think it’s enough to share the final version of the ALTA 2012 program, which may well be the most beautiful ALTA program in history.
Click here to download a PDF version complete with listings and descriptions of all the events, bios of participants, and ads from some of the sponsors.
Now that you’ve had a chance to see the awesomeness that is ALTA 2012, here are all the special details:
One note: Although the Radisson is the official hotel, basically ALL of the events are taking place at the Memorial Art Gallery, which is ten hundred trillion times more beautiful than the Radisson. (Sorry, Radisson, but we all know it’s true.)
OK, starting later this week, I’ll start previewing various aspects of the conference. In the meantime, you can email me (chad.post [at] rochester.edu) if you have questions, comments, or want additional information. It looks like there will be a number of media outlets covering this, and if you are a reporter or blogger or book lover and would like to talk with any of the participants about their particular panel, just let me know.
Finally, if you’re a University of Rochester student, you can get into the conference for free. Big perk of hosting this and of our undergrad and graduate translation programs.
The opening of Jón Gnarr’s novel/memoir The Indian is a playful bit of extravagant ego, telling the traditional story of creation, where the “Let there be light!” moment is also the moment of his birth on January 2nd, 1967. Then. . .
Mahasweta Devi is not only one of the most prolific Bengali authors, but she’s also an important activist. In fact, for Devi, the two seem to go together. As you can probably tell from the titles, she writes about women. . .
The prolific Spanish author Benito Pérez Galdós wrote his short novel, Tristana, during the closing years of the nineteenth century, a time when very few options were available to women of limited financial means who did not want a husband.. . .
Pedro Zarraluki’s The History of Silence (trans. Nick Caistor and Lorenza García) begins with the narrator and his wife, Irene, setting out to write a book about silence, itself called The History of Silence: “This is the story of how. . .
There are plenty of reasons you can fail to find the rhythm of a book. Sometimes it’s a matter of discarding initial assumptions or impressions, sometimes of resetting oneself. Zigmunds Skujiņš’s Flesh-Coloured Dominoes was a defining experience in the necessity. . .
In a culture that privileges prose, reviewing poetry is fairly pointless. And I’ve long since stopped caring about what the world reads and dropped the crusade to get Americans to read more poems. Part of the fault, as I’ve suggested. . .
I would like to pose the argument that it is rare for one to ever come across a truly passive protagonist in a novel. The protagonist (perhaps) of Three Light-Years, Claudio Viberti, is just that—a shy internist who lives in. . .
The last five days of the eleventh-century Icelandic politician, writer of sagas, and famous murder victim Snorri Sturleleson (the Norwegian spelling, Snorre, is preserved in the book) make up Thorvald Steen’s most recently translated historical fiction, The Little Horse. Murdered. . .
We all know Paris, or at least we think we know it. The Eiffel Tower. The Latin Quarter. The Champs-Élysées. The touristy stuff. In Dominique Fabre’s novel, Guys Like Me, we’re shown a different side of Paris: a gray, decaying. . .
One hundred pages into Birth of a Bridge, the prize-winning novel from French writer Maylis de Kerangal, the narrator describes how starting in November, birds come to nest in the wetlands of the fictional city of Coca, California, for three. . .