The British Centre for Literary Translation—located in Norwich at the University of East Anglia—recently launched a search for a new director. You can get all of the information here, but here’s a brief summary of what sounds like one of the coolest translation-related positions ever:
Apply now for the post of BCLT Academic Director
£45,941 to £53,233 per annum
The School of Literature, Drama and Creative Writing is seeking to appoint an Academic Director for the British Centre for Literary Translation.
The Centre is a vital point of intersection between professional translation and academic study, founded in 1989 by W.G. Sebald and supported by the University of East Anglia and Arts Council England.
This is an exciting opportunity to shape the next phase of its development in the context offered by UEA’s internationally famous Creative Writing programme and Norwich’s status as England’s first UNESCO City of Literature.
The Academic Director will be a Senior Lecturer in the School of Literature, Drama and Creative Writing, engaging in both undergraduate and postgraduate teaching and published research.
The post is available on a full-time indefinite basis from 1 March 2014.
The closing date is 12 noon on 22 November 2013.
And from the job description PDF, here’s a paragraph about the scope of the job:
The Academic Director will be responsible for leading the academic programme of BCLT through teaching, research and organisation, ensuring that the academic and public programmes complement and gain from each other, and acting as advocate for the role and activities of BCLT within UEA. S/he will have particular responsibility for raising BCLT’s academic profile, and developing its academic activity to parallel the well-established outreach programming.
I feel like there’s probably a number of readers of this blog who would qualify for such a position . . .
Gustavo Faverón Patriau’s The Antiquarian, translated by Joseph Mulligan, is a genre-blending novel, a complete immersion that delves into a lesser-used niche of genre: horror, gothic, the weird. There are visual horrors, psychological ones, and dark corners with threats lurking.. . .
What a wonderful, idiosyncratic book Weinberger has written. I say book, but the closest comparison I could make to other works being published right now are from Sylph Edition’s “Cahiers Series“—short pamphlet-like meditations by notable writers such as Ann Carson,. . .
Early in Sun-mi Hwang’s novel The Hen Who Dreamed She Could Fly, the main character, a hen named Sprout, learns about sacrifice. After refusing to lay any more eggs for the farmer who owns her, she becomes “culled” and released. . .
When Sankya was published in Russia in 2006, it became a sensation. It won the Yasnaya Polyana Award (bestowed by direct descendants of Leo Tolstoy) and was shortlisted for the Russian Booker and the National Bestseller Award. Every member of. . .
Stalin is Dead by Rachel Shihor has been repeatedly described as kafkaesque, which strikes a chord in many individuals, causing them to run to the bookstore in the middle of the night to be consumed by surreal situations that no. . .
Paradises by cult Argentinian author Iosi Havilio is the continuation of his earlier novel, Open Door, and tells the story of our narrator, a young, unnamed Argentinian woman.
The very first sentence in Paradises echoes the opening of Camus’s The Outsider. . .
This pearl from New Directions contains one short story from Russian literary master Fyodor Dostoevsky (translated by Constance Garnett) and one short story from Uruguayan forefather of magical realism Felisberto Hernández (translated by Esther Allen). Both pieces are entitled “The. . .
I’m talking about pathological individuals; six twisted people taking part in an unpredictable game.
Carlos Labbé’s Navidad & Matanza is the story of two missing children and the journalist trying to find them. Actually. it’s the story of a group of. . .
For Lukas Zbinden, walking is a way of life. At eighty-seven, he is still an avid walker and insists on going for walks outside as often as possible, rain or snow or shine. Now that he lives in an assisted. . .
Commentary is a book that defies simple categorization. Marcelle Sauvageot’s prose lives in the world of novel, memoir, and philosophical monologue as the narrator, a woman recuperating in a sanatorium, muses on the nature of love and examines her own. . .