These days, it’s no secret that translated literature gets short shrift. It has become a well-known fact that just three percent (or less) of all literature published in the United States is translated from another language. These days, too, its hardly less well-known that many publishers and book pages still shy away from translated lit for fear that the taint of a foreign language will chase away coveted consumers.
Still, translation is in a much better place now than even ten years ago. Thanks to the work of some inspired publishers and advocates, the worth of translated lit—and our gross negligence in not publishing more of it—is becoming better known. We’re even getting a certain amount of access to some of the best contemporary writing the world outside the United States has to offer.
So far we’ve come, yet still so far to go. We have the Tolstoys, yes, we even have the Murakamis, but there is so much classic and contemporary literature still out there that has never been published in English—never ever. So, to acknowledge all that’s out there, to inspire readers to thirst for more literature not originally written in English, and to do a service for those publishers in search of the next great translated book, we offer this collection of recommendations.
We’ve talked to some of the top translators into English working today; we’ve talked to publishers big and small; we’ve talked to agents, journalists, and foreign-language authors. We’ve asked them all for the best books that still aren’t in English. And have they responded. They’ve told us TRANSLATE THIS BOOK!, and now we pass that on to you.
Just as I was starting to come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never finish my “lifetime reading list” within the allotted time, along comes The Quarterly Conversation with a reminder that there are whole worlds of literature yet untranslated into the world’s de facto lingua franca [Latin was my only "foreign" language in high school].
Although there is a lot of wonderful writing in English from India, there is a rich literary tradition in Bengali that remains untranslated. As I’m unlikely to pick up a thorough knowledge of that language over the next few decades, I’d like to read more in translation.
Paul Fussell’s The Great War and Modern Memory: The Illustrated Editionis a rare sort of book — a product of intellectual rigor imbued with deep emotion. First published in 1975, this work of history and literature has helped readers come to terms with the legacy of the First World War. After garnering a National Book Award and other honors, the book has been a fixture on college reading lists and “best of” lists. Now, there is a vividly illustrated edition that should spark fresh interest in Paul Fussell’s nonfiction masterpiece.
My friend John Miller is a political reporter and a conservative commentator of real integrity and independence [see, for example, how he's run up against anti-immigrant forces]. He’s also an avid reader and reviewer of books, especially (but not exclusively) those dealing with history and literature. You can glimpse the breadth his interests by listening to his podcast interviews with authors at National Review. The author of several nonfiction works, John has just published his first novel, a work of historical fiction set in the Civil War entitledThe First Assassin. I’m expecting my copy from Amazon any day now.
But, as John’s debut novel becomes available, there’s been a disturbing preemptive attack on this unassuming, non-political literary endeavor. Apparently because John is a National Review contributor, a small mob of politically-motivated posters are trying to poison the Amazon customer-reviews just as the book has come on the market. Of course, I can’t attest to the literary quality of John’s novel, because I haven’t read it yet. But that lack of first-hand information hasn’t stopped sophomoric political censors from trying to overwhelm Amazon’s customer feedback to The First Assassin.
Now, the reviews–and the comments on the reviews and the voting on the comments–are becoming yet another platform for infantile political theatrics. Yet another example of how Amazon’s review system is broken and laughable. I believe there’s such a thing as distributed intelligence, but mobs are not wise.
My first review for WETA.org’s The Book Studio is now online. Managing Editor Bethanne Patrick (better known online as The Book Maven has been putting together an outstanding online home for book reviews and fascinating video interviews with authors of all stripes. I’m thrilled that I’ll be reviewing regularly at The Book Studio, though I may have bit off more than I could chew with my first title: The Case for God, Karen Armstrong’s sweeping history of man and God. Here’s my take:
Religion poisons everything… God is a delusion… the end of faith… these are phrases lately found among the burgeoning supply of books by “new atheists” who take arms against a sea of holy rollers and jihadis.In an age of faith-based politics, resurgent creationism, and religious terrorism, aggressive atheists like Richard Dawkins, Sam Harris, and Christopher Hitchens have become bestselling authors.
A new book attempts to take a stand against both the religious fundamentalists and their militant atheist foes.The Case for God is a landmark work of intellectual and theological history by the renowned scholar of religion Karen Armstrong.
The book is nothing less than a comprehensive history of human religion in just over three hundred pages.From painted traces of Paleolithic hunter-shamans on the Lascaux Cave walls to hip postmodernist theology, Armstrong offers a lucid narrative of humanity’s relationship with the divine.In her telling, the story of God and man unrolls like an ancient tapestry richly embroidered with scholarly insights and references from the world’s many religious traditions.
It is a compelling story, but it isn’t clear that many people—secularists or religionists—will find it persuasive.
The LA Times reports on an interesting footnote in architectural and literary history:
In 1937 a little-known author named Ayn Rand wrote to revered modernist Frank Lloyd Wright.
“Dear Mr. Wright,” her letter of Dec. 12 began, “I am writing a novel about the career of an architect. . . . I should like to have the privilege of meeting you and discussing it with you.”
The book, “The Fountainhead,” was published six years later. Although Wright did not make himself available in 1937 or for years to come, Rand’s pitch was the start of a two-decade correspondence that evolved into a robust exchange of ideas as well as this: a preliminary rendering of a “cottage studio,” in colored pencil on paper, that the legendary architect crafted for Rand. It is featured in “Drawings and Objects by Architects,” on exhibit through Oct. 10 at the Edward Cella Art + Architecture gallery in the mid-Wilshire area of L.A.
Some lightly edited “best of” bits from recent tweets. I’ve sorted these items into categories with a special bonus at the very end. For more along these lines, just follow @TheOccasional.
Ideas, Culture, & Society
Has the complexity of information and the need for hyperspecialization brought us tothe end of polymathy? [via @Yousefzadeh] If so, I can’t think of many “experts” that inspire much confidence these days (e.g., economists). I hope and believe that generalists are still needed to ask “stupid” questions that can upend the settled conventions of specialists.
Annals of Despair: 35% of American voters are either “Birthers” or 9/11 “Truthers.” 2% are BOTH. [via @morganfahey]
Media & Digital Culture
500 billion hours of video online in five years, playable anywhere on 12 billion devices. Is this the future of TV/video/film? If so, we will need critics, filters, and trusted connoisseurs more than ever.
In one week, all the national NPR shows covered these books and authors. It is an impressive list, but one smart, energetic podcaster (working mostly alone) competes respectably. There are many, many book-related podcasts, but they remain obscure to many. Is there a way to make podcasts more “discoverable” for your average Joe Browser?
Separated at birth? Or is newspaper magnate and Tribune Company owner Sam Zell moonlighting as a model? It would appear so from this screengrab of a Network Solutions ad: http://twitpic.com/itmm6.
In the midst of the Baltimore Book Festival, The Occasional is hosting an informal opportunity for writers, readers, critics, fans, bloggers, and twitterers to meet and mingle. On Saturday, September 26th between 6:30 and 8:30, we will gather in the storied, historic halls of a former speakeasy once patronized by H.L. Mencken and F. Scott Fitzgerald — The Owl Bar.
Scheduled just before the official festival party, the tweetup is open to anyone interested in both the ancient and honorable information technology known as “the book” and new-fangled socially-driven micro-media like Twitter.
All are welcome, but to help get a sense of the numbers, please R.S.V.P. via Meetup. And, if you are so inclined, you can help spread the word on Twitter by using this short link [http://j.mp/1berPr] and the hashtag #BBFTweetup.
Daniel Menaker, a writer and former publisher, has a long and interesting collection of insights about the state of book publishing in the Barnes and Noble Review (incidentally a highly recommended publication). The essay contains a lot of sad reflections, but there are plenty of tidbits of broader interest. For instance:
It’s my strong impression that most of the really profitable books for most publishers still come from the mid-list — “surprise” big hits with small or medium advances, such as that memoir by a self-described racial “mutt” of a junior senator from Chicago. Somehow, by luck or word of mouth, these books navigate around the rocks and reefs upon which most of their fleet — even sturdy vessels — founder. This is an old story but one that media giants have not yet heard, or at least not heeded, or so it seems.
If Menaker’s “strong impression” is true, then independent publishers and other purveyors of “mid-list” books have a very bright future. If social networking tools and new media live up to a fraction of their promise, we are entering an age when the power of word-of-mouth recommendation is going to increase exponentially. In theory, worthy books that might have languished are far more discoverable.
For instance, when the British actor Stephen Fry tweeted “You will not read a more dazzling book this year than David Eagleman’s ‘Sum’. If you read it and aren’t enchanted I will eat 40 hats,” sales of the quirky book skyrocketed 6000 percent. A title that had been hovering near bestseller status broke through.
If–and it is a big “if”–authors can choose royalties over advances and publishers can break free of the blockbuster/Hollywood approach, there may be a renaissance of artisanal book publishing catering to small, but avid audiences of readers. That wouldn’t be so bad.
A great website for writing on culture & literature
Really much more than a blog, The Millions is a far-reaching website featuring essays, reviews, and commentary on contemporary and classic literature. It is one of the most ambitious and valuable resources for those who don’t see a necessary conflict between the digital and literary cultures.
Boasting a fresh new design, The Millions home page is now a dynamic entry point with frequently-updated, twitter-length “Curiosities” and a steady stream of work by contributors–of which there are many (though not yet “millions”).
Editor C. Max Magee has done a great job assembling a team of talented writers (both regulars and guests). Whether reviewing an individual book, or opining on broad trends, the contributors keep things lively and interesting. Take, for instance, Lydia Kiesling’s essay on how even an ardent book-lover can lose her reading appetite after too many punishingly unpleasant novels.
In addition to the old-fashioned click-and-read-on-the-web style, you can experience The Millions in Kindle format by subscribing for a mere 99 cents/month. They have also sliced and diced their RSS feeds to you can track specific sections and columns.
As newspapers and other traditional book review venues shrivel, it looks like bloggers and online critics are going to have to pick up the slack. If these new media projects look and read like The Millions, literate culture has a bright future.
“So many books, so little time” say the tote bags sold at independent bookstores. It’s impossible to keep up with the new books published daily, much less the abundance of classics that fill the world’s bookstores and libraries–neglected, celebrated, or dutifully praised but unread. The truth is that there are more than enough books to keep even the most avid reader occupied through several lifetimes. Still, there are some that deserve to be high up on the lifetime reading list queue.
One of the best non-fiction books in American literature
Jon Foro of Amazon’s Omnivoracious book blog recently got around to one of those books that people say “you must read.” Admitting he was “late to this party,” he offered the following assessment of Norman Maclean’s 1992 book Young Men and Fire:
On August 5, 1949, a team of young, tough, and apparently (if not actually) fearless firefighters called the Smokejumpers parachuted into what seemed a minor lightning-struck wildfire in Mann Gulch, an arid ravine on the Missouri River, just north of Missoula, Montana. Sixteen men leapt from the plane, but within an hour all but three were dead or dying, overrun by a “blowup,” a nearly instantaneous fireball that scorched the valley to its head.
Young Men and Fire is Norman Maclean’s meticulously researched recreation of the tragic events–and a gracious homage to the men who perished and those who helped–told in language as pragmatic and awe-inspiring as the Big Sky country it represents. The story deserves as much, and Maclean’s direct approach delivers. [more]
It’s hard to improve on those comments. Norman Maclean may be best known as the author of A River Runs Through It [the novella that inspired the film], but Young Men and Fire really is a masterpiece of what we now call “creative nonfiction.” The style of the writing is so understated, almost dry, that the story’s emotional impact just creeps up on the unsuspecting reader. CSI-style discussions of fire behavior, combustibility, and the physics of air and flame combine with novelistic portraits of individuals and the subculture of “smoke jumpers”–aerial firefighters, some of them veterans of the legendary WWII airborne units. Maclean sets the scene, describes the landscape, and outlines the characters. The story unfolds in a spiral pattern, returning to the central events and personalities again and again as we learn more about what happened. On a foundation of understated and matter-of-fact language, the book builds to a poetic and heart-breaking crescendo.
You can read an excerpt from Young Men and Firehere, but you should really just read the book itself. In the meantime, here’s an interesting musical sidenote…
Wag Dodge, one of the few survivors of the Mann Gulch fire was forever haunted by that day. He lived by testing a counter-intuitive idea–escaping an approaching wall of flame by pre-emptively setting fire to the grasses that surrounded him. Once proven, this technique would save many lives among those who fight wildfires. Dodge’s story, and Norman Maclean’s book, inspired a beautiful song, performed here by Cry Cry Cry [best online version I could find]:
My friend 
