The Blog Turns Eleven – Belated Happy Birthday to the Blog & Frankfurt Book Fair Notes

The blog turned eleven on Tuesday but I was still a bit out of focus after my trip to the Frankfurt Book Fair so decided to wait on festivities until the weekend. As I noted last year, those posts are less interesting to compile now anyway since there’s no point in looking at readership statistics these days. Even so, what’s most important about readership now is what’s always been most important about these posts: thanking you, the readers, for visiting, whether you do so occasionally or regularly. One of the biggest surprises of this blogging endeavor is that people continue visiting, reading, and (apparently) finding useful information on the blog, something that I think of as a sort of online filing cabinet, as, really, an extension of my brain, which is ever more stuffed with details I need to offload.

I’ve started considering my trip to Frankfurt as a sort of birthday present to my professional self since, after all, I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing now – translating Russian fiction – if it weren’t for the blog. (This is good justification to go back again next year, too.) So here, in lazy listicle form, are eleven things I particularly enjoyed about this year’s Frankfurt fair.

• No Wifi at the Messe! I’ll start with something that brought joy. The book fair promises wifi but my devices this year and last failed to accept it. People with lots of Frankfurt experience told me this is an eternal problem and not a device-specific issue. (Some kind people from the Uzbek stand, for example, had a theory that the wifi doesn’t like Samsung, which is what I have.) Whatever the wifi issue, it was a treat not to have Internet access during the days. Next year I’ll just print out my calendar and leave the device in the safe.
• Book Surprises. I never quite know what Russian-to-English translations I’ll find at book fairs. Of course I already have Oliver Ready’s translations of Vladimir Sharov, published by Dedalus Books, and was happy to see them, thanks to my friendships with both Sharov and Ready. And I knew of Tatyana Tolstaya’s Aetherial Worlds, published by Knopf, translated by Anya Migdal, and prominently displayed on The Wylie Agency’s stand. I was, thus, far curiouser about a few translations on the shelves at the Seagull Books stand: a clutch of books by Sergei Eisenstein, translated by multiple translators, The Prison Poems of Nikolai Bukharin, translated by George Shriver (!), and Andrei Tarkovsky’s Time within Time: The Diaries 1970-1986, translated by Kitty Hunter-Blair. Seagull kindly gave me Eisenstein’s On the Detective Story, translated by Alan Upchurch, and just paging through has been interesting: there’s a cast of thousands, thanks to references to Lenin, Hitchcock, Pushkin, Gogol, and many more.
• Other Books I Brought Home. I received books at various other stands, too. There’s Yulia Yakovleva’s The Raven’s Children, the first book in a trilogy (from Samokat) for kids that discusses the Stalin era; Ruth Ahmedzai Kemp has already translated the book into English for Penguin. I’m especially excited to give Eduard Verkin’s Sakhalin Island a try (I love a good post-apocalyptic novel), and was happy to find copies of Ksenia Buksha’s Opens In and Yuri Buida’s The Fifth Kingdom after hearing good things about them and forgetting to pick them up in Moscow. There’s also an English-language treat from Maclehose Press: Frank Wynne’s translation of Virginie Despentes’s Vernon Subutex 1, a finalist for this year’s Man Booker International Prize, still unavailable in the U.S.
• Speaking About Books. I talked about books at the Russia stand, largely basing my comments on some lists – of authors I think have done particularly well in translation and books I consider big favorites – that I’d come up for a panel on contemporary novels with Maya Kucherskaya, Natalia Osipova, Maria Tsiruleva, and Galina Yuzefovich. The lists also came in handy for a talk with Anne Coldefy-Faucard about translation in France and the U.S., moderated by Evgeny Reznichenko. The lists certainly wouldn’t hold any surprises for regular blog readers (and even if you’re not, you can find a favorites list on the sidebar as well as year-end posts that mention reading highlights) so I’ll just say that I was happy to hear that Maria and I share a love for Dmitry Danilov’s Description of a City (previous post) and Horizontal Position (previous post).
• An Award to Katharina Raabe. I don’t know a lot about what gets translated from Russian into German but I do know that Katharina Raabe, a literary editor at Suhrkamp, is a major force in bringing Russian and Eastern European literature to German-language readers. Knowing her dedication, I was very happy to see that the German Literary Translators’ Association recognized her work with the Übersetzerbarke (“Translators’ Barque”) award. When we talked a bit later about Suhrkamp’s list, she mentioned Maria Stepanova’s Памяти памяти (In Memory of Memory), a Big Book and Yasnaya Polyana finalist (Suhrkamp’s description, including English translation information) that I’ll be reading soon. Raabe was Katja Petrowskaja’s editor for Vielleicht Esther, which I enjoyed in Shelley Frisch’s translation from the German, Maybe Esther (previous post).
• The Serendipity Factor. The serendipity factor is part of what gives book fairs – and even travel to and from Frankfurt – their energy. Last year, a woman asked me in the subway if she was on the correct platform to catch a train to the airport; we were both at the right track, then figured out we were both Buchmesse attendees so talked the whole way to the airport… and ended up meeting this year, on purpose, to talk about books and translation. Beyond running into people I wasn’t expecting to see and being introduced to lots more people I was glad to meet, wandering the fair’s food section (which I hadn’t planned on doing) brought me a bag of nice Georgian tea as well as a stop at a Russian cookbook publisher’s stand – their painfully beautiful books drew me. (And then we talked about food translation issues!)
• Georgia Stories. Georgia was the guest of honor at this year’s fair – the tagline was “Georgia – Made by Characters” – and about seventy authors were listed in the thick (nearly a hundred pages) catalogue for the Georgian program at the Georgian national stand and pavilion. The Georgian pavilion was a stylish and otherworldly place: dark, uncrowded, a bit hushed, and almost eerie, in part thanks to a mesmerizing and mysteriously moving installation with slow-motion video of authors’ faces. I loved the pavilion so made daily visits. I especially enjoyed hearing Shota Iatashvili, a friend from translation congresses in Moscow, speak about his story in collection The Book of Tbilisi, along with fellow author Zviad Kvaratskhelia, editor Becca Parkinson, and moderator Gvantsa Jobava. I need to order up the book! And look up other Georgian books that have been translated into English.
• Georgian Music & Poetry. Shota and I went to the Georgian café in the pavilion after the story event: I was in serious need of coffee but they’d run out (!) so, well, what was I to do but settle for a glass of Georgian red wine? Which, of course, tasted very nice. The wine turned out to be for the best because it fit so well with an electronic poetry performance from Rati Amaglobeli and Gogi Dzodzuashvili on the nearby large stage. I loved it. Here’s a sample.
•  Being Part of Something Bigger. Getting a sense of my tiny place in the book world – with the emphasis on “world” – and learning a little about how the book industry works is why the Frankfurt Book Fair feels so important to me. I’m not sure how the book fair counts visitors but 285,024 is a lot, even if it’s not unique visitors, and I’m glad I got out of my quiet home office for a few days to make sure the visitor count reached 285,023 + 1. (Or 285,020 +4 if the stats are per visit!)
• Next Year. I’m already looking forward to next year when Norway – one of my favorite places on earth – will be the guest of honor. Time to take out all the Norwegian books I’ve accumulated but haven’t read.
• Glad I Made It at All! Finally, travel being what it is these days, with so many indignities even on a good day and then unusual delays on bad ones, I’m glad I made it to Frankfurt as scheduled! (Doubly glad because I’d co-organized a dinner gathering with colleagues for that night!) I arrived at Logan Airport only about forty-five minutes before my flight because my bus was delayed for more than an hour on the highway thanks to a car fire in New Hampshire. The good people at the Aer Lingus desk told me I could make it – I’d checked in online and could carry on my tiny suitcase – and then they expedited me through security, watching to make sure I got through. I wouldn’t have made it if I hadn’t already checked in (something I often slack on) and packing light meant no luggage complications (plus plenty of room to bring home books). Lessons learned!

I hadn’t meant to write an epic – so much for that “lazy listicle”!

Thank you again for your visits and kind words!

Up Next: Yasnaya Polyana Award winner. Reading roundups for English-language books and Big Book finalists.

Disclaimers: The usual. Although I went to Frankfurt on my own this year, I thank the Institute of Translation for helping me out in several ways in Frankfurt. Huge thanks, too, to everyone else who treated me to books, happy hour wine, and lovely meals!

Translator’s Fall Travel Trifecta: Minneapolis, Frankfurt & St. Petersburg

Only today did I begin to understand why I stalled so long before writing about my first fall trip—Minneapolis for the American Literary Translators Association conference and Frankfurt for the Frankfurt Book Fair in early October—but everything makes sense now that I’ve returned from my last travel of the season. My second trip was to Russia, where I spoke at the St. Petersburg International Cultural Forum and at a Bukvoed bookstore in mid-November. Only now do I finally feel ready to set travel aside and settle in for winter. Despite temperatures in the 50s and no snow in sight. Without further ado, a whirlwind summary:

The Minneapolis trip got off to a beautiful start with a visit to the Museum of Russian Art, where curator Maria Zavialova (who has also translated American literature into Russian) gave a group of Russian translators a special tour of the “Born in the USSR: Paintings of Childhood and Youth” exhibit and a preview of the “Vladimir School of Painting” exhibit. I particularly enjoyed “Born in the USSR,” thanks to Zavialova’s contextualization of political aspects of the art and my own recognition of familiar details in many paintings, things like cacti in pots with typical decoration and objects that come up in translations.

The highlight of the ALTA conference came, rather unexpectedly, during the first time slot: I normally wouldn’t be glad for the cancellation of a panel on translating Russian obscenities but “Publishing and Promoting Korean Literature”—moderated by Chad Post (Open Letter Books) and featuring panelists Fiona McCrae (Graywolf Press), John Siciliano (Penguin Classics), Christine Dunbar (Columbia University Press), and Russell Scott Valentino (Autumn Hill Books)—combined my favorite topics by covering institutional/government agency support for translated literature, how editors choose books, marketing, editing, and (cliché alert!) success stories. I love learning about the book industry, particularly when the books are translations, so that’s my idea of fun, even at 9 in the morning. I think I must have thanked Chad at least three times.

I can’t say it was all downhill from there because, among other things, bilingual (mostly from the Russian) readings—where I read from my translation of Vadim Levental’s Masha Regina—were lots of fun, owing to what seemed like more humor than usual… Anne O. Fisher read from her translation of Ksenia Buksha’s The Freedom Factory, Harry Leeds read translations of Hannah Tomlets’s poetry, Morgan Shafter read his translation of an entire short story by Moshe Shanin, Katherine Young read translations of poems by poets including Irina Ermakova, and Alina Macneal read translations of (Polish) poetry by Julian Tuwim. The now-annual Russian translation workshop was as lively as ever, led this year by Anne Fisher and Shelley Fairweather-Vega—anyone’s invited to bring a brief item for discussion. It’s hard to pick out highlights beyond that, though I think Tim Parks’s keynote address would qualify, if only as a contrast with Lydia Davis’s (how can a conference have two keynote addresses, anyway? this has always bugged me…) staid and rather standard talk. I didn’t take notes at either and retained little; it’s rough to sit still at the end of the day. In any case, it’s the details of things like publishing Korean fiction in translation that inspire the notetaker in me: I took down data, names, and titles, and am especially looking forward to Han Yujoo’s The Impossible Fairy Tale, in Janet Hong’s translation for Graywolf. In other news, award winners included Anne Fisher and Derek Mong’s translation of The Joyous Science: Selected Poems of Maxim Amelin, which won the Cliff Becker Book Prize; Esther Allen for her translation of Antonio di Benedetto’s Zama, which won the National Translation Award in Prose; and Daniel Borzutzky for his translation of Galo Ghigliotto’s Valdivia, which won the National Translation Award in Poetry. (NTA information)

On to Frankfurt, where I had lots to do, including speaking several times at the Russian stand about the Read Russia Prize, the art and mechanics of translation (my shortened description), and contemporary Russian literature and formation of a new canon. My fellow panelists were Alexander Nitzberg, Olga Radetzkaja, Christiane Körner, Lev Danilkin, Olga Slavnikova, and Maksim Zamshev, all moderated by Tatyana Voskovskaya and Eugene Reznichenko of, respectively, the Yeltsin Center and the Institute of Translation. Meeting with panelists in other contexts—Olga Radetzkaja, for example, already translated Margarita Khemlin’s Klotsvog into German—was a highlight, too, as was meeting fellow blogger Tom, proprietor of one of my favorite blogs, Les expectations de hurlevent (formerly known as Wuthering Expectations), and his wife, who just happens to be a literary translator. Tom’s notes on Frankfurt are here… his mentions of the fair’s scale and mystery are just right. (No pun intended.) I was also glad to have a chance to chat with, among others, authors Mikhail Gigolashvili and Alexander Gadol, whose books I’ve enjoyed reading.

Juliet, Oneworld's Read Russia Award for Laurus, and I

The Buchmesse is gargantuan (I saw only a small chunk in my three days…), which made chance meetings all the sweeter: serendipity and coincidence meant I was able to see my publisher, Juliet Mabey of Oneworld Publications, three or four times, and we even had a chance to talk with Guzel Yakhina about my translation of her Zuleikha Opens Her Eyes, which Oneworld will publish next fall. A final party hosted by Russian publisher Eksmo was a nice final opportunity to visit with some of the literary agents, publishers, and authors I’d already seen at the Buchmesse as well as meet George Slowik, president of Publishers Weekly, who told me about the New York Rights Fair, scheduled for May 30-June 1, 2018… Chad Post mentioned the rights fair in Minneapolis, too. BookExpo America has never exactly been a hotbed of rights activity (at least in my time), so I’m glad someone’s working on this.

Finally, there’s St. Petersburg, where I participated in a roundtable (English version, yes, that’s me/(more complete) Russian version) about the Russian Library project, speaking on specific demands of translating for the English-language Russian Library. I focused on the peer review process and apparatus for my translation of Khemlin’s Klotsvog. I should mention that the roundtable was held at Pushkin House, where we (more on “we” below) were given a French-language tour of the museum and shown various archival materials, including Dostoevsky’s notes for The Brothers Karamazov. (!) That evening I spoke at a Bukvoed bookstore with Eugene Vodolazkin and Liudmila Lupushor about Laurus and the Kirillo-Belozersky Monastery, which is so important in the book… and which came to life for me in large part thanks to a book that schoolchildren gave me in Arkhangel’sk many years ago. I went with Vodolazkin to a nearby Bukvoed shortly thereafter: he was on the roster for a marathon evening of writer appearances that also included bestselling authors Bernard Werber and Janusz Wiśniewski, both of whom have been widely translated into Russian, as well as Russian authors including Valery Popov and Mikhail Veller.

The biggest surprise of the St. Petersburg trip was that it made me realize how sorry I am that I haven’t kept up with my French over the years: Russia will be the honored guest at the 2018 Salon du livre du Paris so a delegation of journalists/critics and Salon officials, as well as translator Anne Coldefy-Faucard, were in town for the Forum, too, also hosted by the Institute of Translation. I tagged along on many of their arts-related excursions: there was a tram ride that included Silver Age poetry, ride-bys of related sites, and even carrot tea, a surprisingly tasty drink of the era that I’ve run across in my reading and work; the broad-ranging “Art into Life. 1918-1925” exhibit at the Russian Museum; and Tsarskoe Selo, which I’d never visited and which was overwhelmingly beautiful in places, though I can’t say I loved the Amber Room. I visited the Dostoevsky Museum back in 1983 and (I can’t believe I’m writing this) thoroughly enjoyed seeing FMD’s hat and spoon again. (I’d forgotten about his cigarettes… or maybe they weren’t there then?) Oddly, I heard (and even understood) the tour texts during both visits in Russian and with interpretation—into English when I was a student and into French this time around—something that felt vaguely normal, given the subject matter. The Petersburg trip had far too many highlights to mention everything, but an event and dinner with local authors was a perfect example of blending business and pleasure, and I was very glad Vodolazkin showed me places that appear in his books, including the building where both he and engineer Los, of Alexei Tolstoy’s Aelita, lived. (Read all about it, in Russian, here.)

This was my most fun travel season ever but I think that’s plenty of detail… and I won’t even begin to list all the books, both gifts and purchased, that I brought home. I’ll leave that to future posts about the books themselves.

Disclaimers:I was invited to Frankfurt and hosted there by the Yeltsin Center and the Institute of Translation. The Institute of Translation hosted me in St. Petersburg. Numerous people did other nice things for me by sharing their time with me, giving me books, making sure I had enough caffeine in me, and feeding me good food, notably including the very best borscht I’ve eaten. Everything I’ve ever made is just beet soup. Heartfelt thanks to all! Photo credit: Tatyana Voskovskaya.

Up Next: Anna Kozlova’s rough (in all the right ways) F20; Sukhbat Aflatuni’s lovely Tashkent Novel; Vladimir Medvedev’s polyphonic Zahhak; Yulia Yakovleva’s entertaining Tinker, Tailor (Вдруг охотник выбегает), which is set in Leningrad; and upcoming Booker and Big Book winners. I have a lot to catch up on!