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.
Though far from the most convincing reason to read literature in translation, one common side effect is learning of another culture, of its history. Within that, and a stronger motivation to read, is the discovery of stories not possible within. . .
Despite cries that literature is dead, dying, and self-replicating in the worst way, once in a while a book comes along to remind readers that there’s still a lot of surprise to be found on the printed page. To be. . .
“I was small. And my village was small, I came to know that in time. But when I was small it was big for me, so big that when I had to cross it from one end to the other,. . .
A few weeks after moving into a farm house in the Welsh countryside, Emilie, an expatriate from the Netherlands, starts to think about her uncle. This uncle tried to drown himself in a pond in front of the hotel where. . .
Think back to the last adventure- or action-type book you read. Wasn’t it cool? Didn’t it make you want to do things, like learn to shoot a crossbow, hack complicated information systems, travel to strange worlds, take on knife-wielding thugs,. . .
In Aira’s Shantytown, while we’re inside the characters’ heads for a good portion of the story, the voice we read on the page is really that of Aira himself, as he works out the plot of the book he’s writing.. . .
Noir is not an easy genre to define—or if it once was, that was a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away; as a quick guess, maybe Silver Lake, Los Angeles, 1935. When two books as different as. . .
Some time ago I read this phrase: “The page is the only place in the universe God left blank for me.”
Pedro Mairal’s short novel The Missing Year of Juan Salvatierra is more about these blank spaces than the usual full. . .
“What if even in the afterlife you have to know foreign languages? Since I have already suffered so much trying to speak Danish, make sure to assign me to the Polish zone . . .”
So reads a typical aphoristic “poem”. . .
If you somehow managed to overlook the 2012 translation of Andrés Neuman’s breathtaking Traveler of the Century (and woe betide all whom continue to do so), you now have two exceptional works of fiction from the young Argentine virtuoso demanding. . .