As the year comes to a close, we thought we’d take a minute to look back at what we’ve done over the past twelve months. It’s also that time of year when we thank you for your continued support, and ask for your help in the year to come by participating in our Annual Campaign.
You probably already know that Three Percent and Open Letter are nonprofits housed at the University of Rochester, and, as such, our annual revenue comes from a few diverse sources, including book sales, foundational support, and governmental support (from here and abroad). Our most important source of funding, however, comes from individuals, like you, interested in furthering the appreciation of international literature.
Thanks to the support of our readers and fans, we’ve accomplished more over the past year than ever before:
• We published 10 critically-acclaimed titles from around the world, including two that made Kirkus’s Best Fiction of 2012 list;
• We were awarded our first NEA Publishing Art Works grant for an amazing $45,000, one of the largest prizes awarded to any literary organization in the U.S.;
• The Reading the World Conversation Series entered its fifth season;
• Awarded the fifth annual Best Translated Book Awards;
• Continued to expand Three Percent, celebrating literature in translation;
• Offered internships and fellowships to students from around the world interested in getting into the publishing field.
So, with our achievements higher and our momentum stronger than ever before, your continued interest has never been more vital, or more appreciated. Our goal is to foster a healthy book culture—something that wouldn’t be possible without you.
To that end, please consider supporting Three Percent and Open Letter. Your tax-deductible contribution to our Annual Campaign — online or via mail with this donation form — will ensure that this important undertaking continues to flourish, expand, and engage with more readers than ever before.
Chad W. Post
Art & Operations
César Aira dishes up an imaginative parable on how identity shapes our sense of belonging with Dinner, his latest release in English. Aira’s narrator (who, appropriately, remains nameless) is a self-pitying, bitter man—in his late fifties, living again with. . .
Originally published in French in 2007, We’re Not Here to Disappear (On n’est pas là pour disparaître) won the Prix Wepler-Fondation La Poste and the Prix Pierre Simon Ethique et Réflexion. The work has been recently translated by Béatrice Mousli. . .
Even though the latest from Jean Echenoz is only a thin volume containing seven of what he calls “little literary objects,” it is packed with surprises. In these pieces, things happen below the surface, sometimes both literally and figuratively. As. . .
Who is this woman? This is the question that opens Xiao Bai’s French Concession, a novel of colonial-era Shanghai’s spies and revolutionaries, police and smugglers, who scoot between doorways, walk nonchalantly down avenues, smoke cigars in police bureaus, and lounge. . .
For the past 140 years, Anna Karenina has been loved by millions of readers all over the world. It’s easy to see why: the novel’s two main plots revolve around characters who are just trying to find happiness through love.. . .
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. . .