2013 isn’t over yet, which means ‘tis (still) the season for awards and year-end lists. Of course, at Asymptote we’re partial to translated literature (you could say we’re number three on this list), which means we’re especially excited about Three Percent’s upcoming Best Translated Book Award. Over at Three Percent, our very own editor-at-large Daniel Medin reflects on his personal favorites for this year’s award—and some Asymptote appearances, like Mircea Cărtărescu’s Blinding, are in the mix. The head of the Complete Review Michael Orthofer first reflects on this year’s translated Dutch fiction in the running, then on the Best Translated Book Award’s treatment of that ever-snubbed category, genre fiction.
The phrase “Copyright disputes” might evoke images of tech giants, but this week reminded us that jargon isn’t always quite so dry. In Iran, copyright free-for-all policies mean that there may be upwards of ten translations for the same book—making an individual translator’s hard work all the more challenging to appreciate on its own. In Germany, worries about censorship and pernicious literature: the state of Bavaria has kept the copyright for Mein Kampf since 1945, but that copyright runs out in 2016. The autobiography’s purpose remains uncertain, and the debate shifts between arguments for academic scholarship and gravely misguided abuse. In Sweden, thriller fans rejoice as Stieg Larsson’s Millennium legacy lives on: writer David Lagercrantz is set to write a fourth installment in the deceased author’s bestselling series (the job is not without controversy). Finally, the British Library gives the Internet free rein: it’s uploaded over a million archival images to flickr, inviting users to remix centuries-old art (give it a try—here’s the impressive photoset).
Copyright clashes are one thing, but downright stealing is another: in Naples, Italy, a library has been systematically looted since the 16th century, while the Hopi Nation gets a chance to reclaim sacred artifacts put up for auction, thanks to the benevolence of a secret bidder.
Trail of prizes, applauds, and awards: Germany’s Günter Grass Archive has already awarded 2014’s ALBATROS Prize to American author Julie Otsuka and her German translator Katja Scholtz for The Buddha in the Attic. Ukranian author Tanja Maljartschuk has won the Polish Institute in Kiev’s Joseph Conrad Prize, earning 3,000 Euros and a six-month stay in Poland, and Cuba’s poet Reina Maria Rodriguez snags her country’s 2013 National Literature Prize for her entire body of work. In France, author Dany Lafferière has been elected to immortality as a member of the prestigious Académie Française, which means it’s a great day for Haitian and Canadian literature. Of course, it’s a good day for all French-language letters: last week, we may have reported that translated French literature does poorly in English-language markets, but it looks like that report might be a bit exaggerated. French booksellers themselves can hardly wait for 2014’s upcoming titles in the post-Christmas wave of highbrow lit picks called the “Rentrée Littéraire.”
Translators aren’t invisible! They’re human—which means they can even fall in love, like Russian poet Vera Pavlova and Steven Seymour. Booker prizewinner and Asymptote contributor Lydia Davis has fallen in love, too (with a book). At the New Yorker, Davis profiles exiled Syrian writer Osama Alomar’s short fiction. The literary profile exalts personality but only to those who allow it to happen: Meja Mwangi is one of the most notable Kenyan contemporary writers, but he’s notably reclusive as well: on Mwangi’s mighty pen. Speaking of shyness, don’t be shy to make yourselves noticed, Latvian–Estonian translators. The Latvian Ministry of Foreign Affairs has announced a 3,000-Euro prize aiming to accelerate dialogue between Latvia and Estonia. While some national literatures are encouraged, others are condensed, as many fear is the case with Russian letters: do Russian writers dig too deep to garner popular appeal? Despite (supposedly) declining sales, Russia’s literature has helped forge a country of letters. The same could be said for Palestinian literature: Fakhri Saleh dispatches from a nation in perpetual exile, crafted by the letters it produces.
Finally, in case you still don’t know what you’re gifting your moody, literary teenager for Christmas, a Franz Kafka video game might be just the thing. And if you slept through this part of your undergrad history class: here’s Norse history with a Bostonian accent.