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.
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. . .
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. . .
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. . .
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. . .
“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. . .
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”. . .
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. . .
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. . .
Literature in translation often comes with a certain pedigree. In this little corner of the world, with so few books making it into this comforting nook, it is often those of the highest quality that cross through, and attention is. . .
Alessandro Baricco’s Mr. Gwyn is a set of two loosely interlinked novellas that play with narrative and the construction of character. Ably translated by Ann Goldstein, Mr. Gwyn plays some subtle metafictional games as Baricco delves into what it means. . .