I wanted to throw a little attention toward Adventures In Immediate Irreality by Max Blecher. I haven’t had time to read this book yet, but I’m going to. It has a lot going for it—first of all, Daniel Medin speaks highly of it, which is a high endorsement. Secondly, it is the final book to be translated by the late Michael Henry Heim, which makes it very much of note.
And check out this biography:
Max Blecher’s father was a successful Jewish merchant and the owner of a porcelain shop. Blecher attended primary and secondary school . . . continue reading, and add your comments
The first Sebald that I read was The Rings of Saturn. This was in the spring of 2006.
Back then I didn’t like writing in my books, so I used these sticky colored tape things to mark passages I found interesting.
After that was On the Natural History of Destruction. There was no real reason I read this one next—I just happened to find it used at Moe’s Books, and I took it to Mexico with me.
I read it . . . continue reading, and add your comments
I’m a little bit intrigued by Stephen Marche’s idea that some books can hold up to being read 100 times or more. This seems like something I’m dangerously close to actually attempting. Although, this could make for a strange project—at 3 reads per year, this would take 34 years. Even at a rather brisk 10 reads per year, that would still be 10 years—not exactly insignificant. What if 5 years in you decided that this book didn’t actually hold up to 100 reads?
I’m curious to know which books you all would actually try this with. Keep . . . continue reading, and add your comments
Here’s my review of Alejandro Zambra’s latest book, which, depending on how you want to look at things, is either his first short story collection or his longest novel ever.
It’s hard to choose, but this may be my favorite quote from Michael Hofmann’s translation essay “Sharp Biscuit,” found in his recent essay collection, Where Have You Been? Hofmann tackles translation theory like a true poet—instead of digging deeply into philosophical ideas of translation, he gives us image after image, metaphor after metaphor in an attempt to describe what he does when he translates. (There’s a beautiful image there of poetry translations with facing-page originals being like a spider’s captured, wrapped up prey (the translation) just waiting to be consumed by the awaiting . . . continue reading, and add your comments
It’s early, but The Musical Brain and Other Stories—the first story collection by César Aira to appear in English—is already shaping up to be one of my favorite reads of the year. I’m a die-hard Aira fan, but there are books of his that I feel just aren’t quite as good as they might be. What I’m saying is, some of his conceits work for me, and some of them don’t.
The amazing thing for me about The Musical Brain is that it all works. These are 20 stories, and each of them is virtuosic. In addition . . . continue reading, and add your comments
Minae Mizumura was a runner-up for the 2014 Best Translated Book Award. That year Seiobo There Below was the winner (and virtually impossible to beat), but had that book not won, it’s very possible that A True Novel would have.
Mizumura’s project is original and interesting, and her second book to be translated into English was published last month by Columbia University Press. It is The Fall of Language in the Age of English, translated by Mari Yoshihara and Juliet Winters Carpenter.
Reviews in The Complete Review:
The Fall of Language in the . . . continue reading, and add your comments
Gail Hareven is notable for having won the 2010 Best Translated Book Award (for The Confessions of Noa Weber). I’ve heard very good things about Lies, First Person, which is publishing next week.
Not a ton of reviews available yet, but here are two: Publishers Weekly, and Kirkus.
This is all the César Aira I own, as it would be seen on my bookshelf if you came to my home. I have him in my “Latin America” collection, sandwiched between some other Argentines—Ernesto Sábato, Tomás Eloy Martinez, and Adolfo Bioy Casares. (My copy of The Conversations is missing in action.)
The first Aira I purchased, and the first I read, was Como me hice monja (How I Became a Nun), which I found at Ghandi Books in Puebla, Mexico in 2007. I believe it was something . . . continue reading, and add your comments
I would like to recommend to you all Aliens and Anorexia by the American avant-garde writer, editor, and filmmaker Chris Kraus. Published in 2000, it was her second novel, and I think it more successfully realizes the goals set by another recent American novel, The Flamethrowers by Rachel Kushner. (This isn’t the place for my thoughts on Kushner’s accomplished, but ultimately disappointing, novel, but if you want to read those you can find some of them here.)
What is at the heart of these two books? Modernism, femininity, feminism in the . . . continue reading, and add your comments