Our dispatches this week range from the celebratory to the urgent. Slovak literature is victorious after a splendid showing in Paris, Guatemalan independent literature stakes out a spot on the main stage, and in Albania, writers have taken admirable steps in order to bring the importance of reading to public attention. Read on to keep up with the thrilling advances of these three national literatures.
Julia Sherwood, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Slovakia
Slovak literature has been making waves in France: Slovakia’s capital, Bratislava, was the city of honour at this year’s Salon du Livre, held from March 15 to 18. Years of painstaking preparations, spearheaded by the Slovak Centre for Information on Literature, have resulted in twenty-six brand new translations of books by Slovak authors being translated into French in the past year or so—twice the number published in the thirty years since Slovakia’s independence. Book launches and presentations were accompanied by readings, discussions, and exhibitions, featuring over a dozen writers, playwrights, and journalists, with a good sprinkling of graphic designers, artists, filmmakers, publishers, musicians, as well as some government representatives, which attracted scores of the reading public and captured the attention of the media (find links to the press coverage on the Embassy of Slovakia’s Facebook page).
The star authors included Pavel Vilikovský, the undisputed grand old man of Slovak fiction (he would surely reject this label), who rarely travels abroad these days, but could not turn down the invitation to Paris given that three of his books have appeared in French translation. He has also beaten another record, as his most recent book, RAJc je preč (The Thrill is Gone, 2018) has just been nominated for Slovakia’s most prestigious literary prize, the Anasoft Litera. This is his fifth nomination since the prize was first awarded in 2006; he won it that year as well as in 2014, and judging by this book’s first reviews, he may well manage a hat-trick this year.
Another book under the spotlight in Paris was the re-edition of the seminal 1960s satirical parable of political conformism, The Demon of Consent. Its author, Dominik Tatarka, one of the earliest Slovak signatories of Charter 77, was banned from publishing for refusing to condone the Soviet-led invasion of Czechoslovakia in August 1968. Sadly, he died in May 1989, without seeing the regime crumble in November of that year. It is only fitting that, this year, the literary prize named after him has been awarded to the editors of the book My sme tí, na ktorých sme čakali (We Are the Ones We Have Been Waiting For, 2018). The book is a collection of the most poignant speeches by actors, writers, journalists, and pop stars given at the protest rallies that raged across Slovakia like wildfire last spring, following the murder of investigative journalist Ján Kuciak and his fiancée Martina Kušnírová. These protests led to the resignation of Slovakia’s Prime Minister and the Minister of Justice, and the wave of disgust with corruption at the highest levels of office was a key factor in the victory of the anti-corruption lawyer Zuzana Čaputová in the first round of presidential elections on March 16 (she will now face off with the runner-up on March 30).
José García Escobar, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Central America
On March 15, Guatemalan indie press giant Editorial Catafixia and Guatemala’s Centro Cultural de España presented De Ak’abal a Ak’abal, a street play and performance based on the works of Maya poet Humberto Ak’ab’al, who sadly passed away earlier this year due to complications after an intestinal surgery. The play, which is part of Catafixia’s long-running series Escénica Poética, was put together by Colectivo Caja Lúdica. Humberto is arguably Guatemala’s most celebrated poet. His work has been translated into English, French, German, Japanese, Dutch, and countless other languages.
Additionally, on March 28, the Guatemalan-based Spanish writer Francisco Pérez de Antón presented his latest novel, entitled La corrupción de un presidente sin tacha, an intense political thriller. This is Francisco’s seventh novel. In 2011, Francisco won the prestigious Miguel Ángel Asturias National Prize in Literature, which has been awarded to other greats such as Rodrigo Rey Rosa and Eduardo Halfon.
In relation to Halfon, Dutch publisher Uitgeverij Wereldbibliotheek recently put out Eduardo’s now classic El boxeador polaco as De Poolse bokser, translated from the Spanish by Lisa Thunnissen.
Barbara Halla, Editor-at-Large, reporting from Albania
Although this week I am covering Albania, I have to start a bit farther north: between March 21 and 24, Leipzig held its annual book fair, the second German book fair after Frankfurt’s. Albanian literature was duly represented with its own stand at the fair, where English and French-language translations of the most successful titles were made available to visitors and agents. Two titles were particularly highlighted by the Albanian Ministry of Culture, which curated the stand: first, Ridvan Dibra’s The Legend of Solitude, a book whose French translation by Evelyne Noygues was shortlisted for the Grand Prix SGDL (the great translation prize hosted by one of France’s foremost writers’ associations). The other, Luljeta Lleshanaku’s Negative Space (translated by Ani Gjika), was a finalist for this year’s PEN Literary Award for Poetry in Translation.
Albanian literature might slowly be gathering praise and recognition abroad, but inside Albania itself, the book trade seems to be suffering. Albanians are reading less and less, sales are falling, and the new taxes that took effect in January 2019 have increased both the cost of individual books and the costs of publishing them in the first place. Faced with apathy and actions that outright undermine the popularity of reading and books, Albanian writers penned an open letter to the Ministry of Culture urging them to reconsider their approach and support of Albanian literature. Writers and scholars particularly focused on the reinvigoration of the National Council for Books and Reading, which was created with the aim of promoting reading throughout Albania and raising the level of national discourse and awareness of literature. Nevertheless, the Council has been largely neglected by the Ministry; its positions are filled by politicians rather than writers or publishers, which means that since its creation in 2006, it has not achieved much. Signatories to this letter argued that the Council should be revamped to include people with actual experience and connection to the literary world and should receive funding in order to bring about innovative solutions regarding raising interest in reading and books. So far, the Albanian Ministry of Culture has not responded to this call to arms.
*****
Read more dispatches from the Asymptote Blog: