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.
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. . .
In Joris-Karl Hyusmans’s most popular novel, À rebours (Against Nature or Against the Grain, depending on the which translated edition you’re reading), there is a famous scene where the protagonist, the decadent Jean des Esseintes, starts setting gemstones on the. . .
There are books that can only wisely be recommended to specific types of readers, where it is easy to know who the respective book won’t appeal to, and Kristiina Ehin’s Walker on Water is one these. What makes this neither. . .
Imagine the most baroque excesses of Goethe, Shakespeare, and Poe, blended together and poured into a single book: That is The Nightwatches of Bonaventura. Ophelia and Hamlet fall in love in a madhouse, suicidal young men deliver mournful and heartfelt. . .
In 1899, Maurice Ravel wrote “Pavane pour une infante défunte” (“Pavane for a Dead Princess”) for solo piano (a decade later, he published an orchestral version). The piece wasn’t written for a particular person; Ravel simply wanted to compose a. . .
Fiston Mwanza Mujila is an award-winning author, born in the Democratic Republic of Congo, who now, at 33, lives in Austria. From what I could find, much of his work is influenced by the Congo’s battle for independence and its. . .
Twenty-One Days of a Neurasthenic is not a novel in the traditional sense. Rather, it is a collection of vignettes recorded by journalist Georges Vasseur in his diary during a month spent in the Pyrenées Mountains to treat his nervous. . .
Founded in 1960 by such creative pioneers as George Perec, Raymond Queneau and Italo Calvino, the Oulipo, shorthand for Ouvroir de littérature potentielle, came about in when a group of writers and mathematicians sought constraints to find new structures and. . .
There’s little to say about a series of prose poems that willfully refuse to identify pronoun antecedents. Or perhaps there are a million things. The poems in Morse, My Deaf Friend— the chapbook by Miloš Djurdjević published by Ugly Duckling. . .