I don’t have a lot to say, analysis-wise, about this most recent update. At the moment, there are 419 titles included for 2013, compared to 452 for 2012. By year’s end, I suspect these will be almost identical, especially considering that there are books I’m aware of—such as forthcoming titles from Frisch & Co.—that I can’t add yet because the ISBN info isn’t available. (Database talk! The ISBN is the primary key, so without anything to enter into that field, I can’t create a record.) Also, the count for December publications (19 in 2013 compared to 34 in 2012) points to the fact that there are releases coming up that haven’t made their way to my desk/inbox or PW.
One thing worth noting is that Dalkey has regained the lead as the number one publisher of translations in the U.S., overtaking AmazonCrossing. How did they do this? Money from the Korean Government! Seriously. Way back when, South Korea signed a deal with Dalkey to publish approximately a shit load of Korean books. The first ten are coming out in November, and with those added in here, Dalkey moves back up into first place with 31 translations of fiction and poetry coming out in 2013.
The thing I’m always interested in are the most translated languages. At the moment, the top 10 are:
That’s an unusually large gap between French and German. For example, last year there were 67 French books and 57 German. Not sure what’s going on there . . .
Enjoy downloading and looking through these, and hopefully you’ll find some interesting books and publishers to check out!
1 As always, these spreadsheets detail all original translations to come out in English, in the U.S. (either by a U.S. press, or a foreign press with legit U.S. distribution) during the specified time period. And by original I mean books that have never ever ever appeared in any English translation ever ever ever. No retranslations of Proust, no “new editions” comprised of pieces from previously published books, etc. Sometimes I miss things thought—include things that shouldn’t be, or don’t include books that should—so email me at chad.post [at] rochester.edu if you see any errors.
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. . .