Things are starting to happen fast here. Last week at this time, I was in Fianarantsoa. Between then and now, I’ve talked to two journalists, both interviews have been published, and there’s a third hoping to do a TV interview soon. I’m...turning into a minor cultural celebrity? This is a very strange thing, especially for someone who actively despises the idea of ever being famous.
But hey, people are interested! And that’s a really really good thing -- not for me, but for Malagasies. Because if I can be the hook, the attention-grabber, the reason that people here start paying attention to their own literature, then that can help the authors and editors and publishing houses here who are fighting to find readers, to create readers from a population that is no longer really accustomed to reading.
Of course not! You don’t have to listen to anybody.
Sorry to disappoint you, but my primary purpose in translating is for American readers, for other readers all over the globe who speak English and know nothing about Madagascar. I’m working for them, to teach them things, to help them discover new books and new worlds. My goal is and always has been to diversify literary offerings for Americans, not to launch the careers of Malagasy writers.
However, it’s a mistake for anyone to try to close themselves off from the rest of the world. If we share art and culture and, yes, literature with each other, our lives can only be enriched. We Americans, we need Rabearivelo just as much as Malagasies need Shakespeare.
And I would never tell a Malagasy author what to write. That’s up to them, always. All I can do is take their text and try to render it as faithfully as possible into English.
But...if my work happens to help Malagasy authors along the way, too? That’s awesome! If my presence here means that Malagasy authors get more attention? Brilliant! If I can share what I know about marketing and distribution with Malagasy publishing houses, so that they can do their job more effectively and find more readers and sell more books? Win-win-win-win-win. If I can bring a new perspective to the already-rich conversation on how to increase the literacy rate here, that would be amazing, especially for those people who will be able to learn to read and write.
It’s ultimately up to Malagasies to fix the problems here in Madagascar. I can’t do anything about that, and I wouldn’t presume to waltz in with *the thing* that will *obviously* solve everything. Similarly, it’s my responsibility to work on problems in the States. But sharing information with each other makes everyone’s jobs easier.
Plus, I like these people. Why wouldn’t I want to see them succeed?
Remember that oh-so-emotionally-challenging yet ultimately rewarding book I told you lovely readers about a while back? This one. The book that I refuse to call my "Holocaust book". The one about a German girl's exile to France, hiding in Italy, and then life in France after the war . . . the girl-turned-woman who I got to meet, Marianne Spier-Donati. One of the bravest and most wonderful women I've ever met.
Anyway, back to the point at hand. This is a publishing announcement!
Yes, that's right: my translation of Return to Erfurt, Story of a Shattered Childhood: 1935-1945, by Olga Tarcali, has officially been published by Centro Primo Levi Editions.
Yes, I will be doing a giveaway shortly. Stay tuned! More info TK.
If you find yourself in New York City next week, CPL Editions is reopening the SF Vanni bookshop in celebration of all their new publications. The party will be on Tuesday, February 17th, 6-9:00 p.m., at 30 West 12th St. Full announcement here.
Finally, and most importantly, you can purchase the book now! Paperbacks here, ebooks here, and more info from the publisher here.
Specifically, two of you: First book goes to JUAN MARROQUIN! Congratulations! He wrote: "My favorite 'strong woman' is Elizabeth Bennet, from 'Pride and Prejudice'. She is strong and does her best with the resources she had at hand, gracefully but without giving up."
Second book goes to LIZ W, who is @westbynorth on Twitter. Congratulations to you, as well!
Juan, Liz, I'll be in touch later today to get your mailing addresses.
Now, for the rest of you amazing people who indulged this little game, you can still win a copy of the book, in a sense. It just requires a purchase -- of the book.
Spread the word! George Sand is here, in English, as you've never seen her before.
And ain't she a beauty?
As promised. I wouldn't let you down.
The Prize: Two (2) randomly-chosen people will each receive one (1) hardcover copy of The Last Love of George Sand, by Evelyne Bloch-Dano, translated by yours truly, published by Arcade Publishing, released February 6, 2013. Each book will be signed by me and inscribed however you'd like.
In honor of George Sand, leave a comment on this post of who your favorite strong woman is. Bonus brownie points for explaining why.
The Deadline: Tonight! Wednesday, February 6, 2013, at 11:59 p.m. EST.
The Rules: After the contest, I will randomly select two entrants (by assigning a number to each comment and Twitter account and using a random number generator), and announce the winners on this blog on Thursday, February 7. I will then contact the winners for their mailing address. Anyone with a valid mailing address anywhere in the world may enter. Limit two entries per person.
The Why: George Sand is freaking cool. And I loved working on this book. I'd like to share it with people.
Stellar reviews don't make anyone blue!
Marketing for The Last Love of George Sand is in full swing, with pub date only two weeks away. But the first review came in last year. Yep, this review from Kirkus was posted way back in early December. Publishing timelines are weird. But enough about that, the review itself is brilliant!
Now, Kirkus is an especially important reviewer to get. They call themselves "The World's Toughest Book Critics Since 1933," and it's no joke. The entire industry looks to them for helpful, honest reviews. And they have starred reviews, which they award "to Books of Exceptional Merit."
The STARRED Kirkus review for The Last Love of George Sand.
Delightful reconstruction of the deeply fulfilling, late-life romance of the French novelist with a devoted, younger engraver.
Obviously a labor of love, this work by the accomplished French biographer Bloch-Dano (Vegetables: A Biography, 2012, etc.) is highly entertaining and original. The author sees her job as reassembling the life of her subject from scattered pieces and “the ravages of time” and then, if all else fails, using her imagination to fill in the details much like a novelist. The result is a series of pointed assertions like light bulbs going off in her head, questions and switching to the present tense, all while sticking to the courageous, romantic spirit of her subject. George Sand was in her mid-40s when her son brought his engraver friend Alexandre Manceau to spend the holidays of 1849 at her beloved ancestral home, Nohant. A famous novelist and playwright, she was now bone-weary after the failures of the socialist revolution of 1848, into which she had thrown herself, and strapped by debts and squabbles with her headstrong daughter. Nohant had always served as her refuge, in between bruising stints in Paris and maternal love affairs with a series of “men-children.” Bloch-Dano ably portrays Sand's attraction to the 32-year-old engraver, a man of modest beginnings and much talent, highly intuitive, intelligent and devoted to Sand. Manceau not only took over the theatrical productions at Nohant, but also assumed the role of her secretary and copyist, living with her for 14 years while plying his commissions as a sought-after engraver. Bloch-Dano’s portrait is poignant and beautifully researched.
A love story probably suppressed by Sand’s resentful son, brought here to vivid life in the hands of her capable biographer.
There's that expression that goes: "Hurry up and wait." That is the publishing industry, from an author or translator's perspective.
You hurry up to get that manuscript to your editor...and then wait nine months to see it in print.
You get super stressed about finishing it, and tweaking it to perfection, and you're so excited/relieved when you finally do...only to put all that excitement on hold for the marketing push next season.
Or even before contracts are signed, you translate a new sample or write a new story as fast as you can to send out to all the magazines and literary journals and agents that you can...and then try not to sit around waiting for the response to hit your inbox, because it won't come for a very long time.
Then, when everything's done and you're finally ready to share your work with the world, and accolades start coming in...you're not allowed to publicize the reviews until they get published, which could be days or weeks after you're notified about them.
In my younger days in a children's chorus, we worked with a wonderfully eccentric performance artist. At lunch one day, he got everybody's attention, because he wanted to share a poem with us. "It's called, 'Waiting,'" he said. He cleared his throat. Exhaled slowly. Gazed at the ceiling in preparation. Took a sip of water. Made eye contact with every single person gathered around the table. Stood up. Straightened his vest, brushed the crumbs off of his vest. Planted his feet in a firm stance. Clasped his hands in front of him. Took a deep breath.
And bowed, to giggles and a rapid crescendo of applause.
That was it. And it's the only poem I remember in its entirety from before age 15.