WIT Month Roundup: Books from Other Presses
Some great non-Open Letter Books to check out for Women in Translation Month!
As part of my/Three Percent’s long-standing commitment to supporting the field of translated literature and independent publishing as a whole—in contrast to being only self-promotional—I’m going to start posting more about books from other presses, probably tied into the revamped Translation Database . . . But for now, I thought I’d highlight a few books by women in translation that I’m fond of. (Or am highly anticipating.)
On the Calculation of Volume: Books I, II, III, and IV, translated from the Danish by Barbara Haveland (New Directions)
Granted, a lot of readers are likely to already be familiar with this given its appearance on the National Book Award for Translated Literature longlist last fall—and the fact that it’s a New Directions book—but it’s one of the most interesting publishing projects going on today.
As a whole, On the Calculation of Volume is a seven-volume series, which ND is bringing out in a, more or less, biannual fashion, with books I and II coming out last fall, book III in November, book IV in April, and then, presumably, the final three books over the rest of 2026 and all of 2027. This is similar to what FSG did for Jeff VanderMeer’s Southern Reach Series, with the three volumes coming out, as original paperbacks, over an eight-month period to encourage a sort of “Netflix binge” experience. I don’t know how well that worked, although they got me . . .
I’ve never been a fan of Groundhog Day, or that sort of narrative gimmick (like with Palm Springs), but now that I’m finishing up Volume II, I’m hooked and am finding Balle’s conceit to be far more expansive than I would’ve expected. Granted, Tara Selter, the protagonist of the series, lives November 18th over and over, but as she comes to accept this, she travels, she tells various people about her predicament, and, most importantly, she opens up a lot of possibilities for fiction, for how to create tension and interest when the reader accepts that this repetition isn’t going away. (By the end of Book II, she’s on her 1,144th iteration of the same day.)
Home Before Dark by Eva Björg Ægisdóttir, translated from the Icelandic by Victoria Cribb (Orenda Books)
Orenda Books is, along with Soho Press, my favorite source for interesting thrillers. I’ve followed them for a while, initially because former Dalkey Archive employee and editor of Best European Fiction 2015, West Camel—who is an author in his own right (Fall, Attend), long-time editor of The Riveter, and overall brilliant, sweet person—edits for Orenda and turned me on to their collection of Icelandic books. Lilja Sigursdóttir and Ragnar Jónasson are excellent (as is Yrsa Sigurðardóttir, who is published by Minotaur), but for whatever reason, Eva Björg’s Forbidden Iceland series was the one that I got completely hooked on. I read the final two books in the series as soon as they were released—even including one in my “World Literature & Translation” class, in which one of the undergrads also became a super fan—and have been anxiously awaiting this standalone volume.
The story is relatively simple: it’s 1977 and Marsí is visiting home on the tenth anniversary of when her sister Stína went missing. Marsí has always felt guilty about his sister’s disappearance, which happened the night Marsí was supposed to meet a distant penpal for the first time. There are lots of suspicious characters, some really great twists, and a pretty dark ending. This is a great weekend book—a propulsive, quick read that may well send you looking for The Creak on the Stairs.
The Book of Anna by Carmen Boullosa, translated from the Spanish by Samantha Schnee (Coffee House Press)
This is a bit of a throwback, but this book was part of the special 12th season of the Two Month Review podcast in which we discussed three books all written and translated by women: Cars on Fire by Mónica Ramón Ríos & Robin Myers (TMR episodes 1, 2, 3) , Four by Four (TMR episodes 4, 5, 6, 7) by Sara Mesa & Katie Whittemore, and this, The Book of Anna by Carmen Boullosa & Samantha Schnee (TMR episodes 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12, for which Boullosa joined us).
I had read Anna Karenina by Tolstoy at the beginning of the pandemic—why not?—so this book especially resonated with me. Obviously, Boullosa’s novel is inspired by Tolstoy’s—Anna Karenina’s son is the main character of Boullosa’s book—but does it’s own thing. I haven’t read all of Boullosa’s books, but I’ve been following her since her Grove days (I remember They’re Cows, We’re Pigs in particular, since we stocked it at Quail Ridge Books), and am fascinated by her personal history and all the authors and important cultural figures she’s been associated with over her life.
Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t at least point out that Texas: The Great Theft, one of Deep Vellum’s first books, was recently reissued in a 10th Anniversary edition with an intro by Merve Emre. And if you like either of these, there are a number of her backlist titles to check out . . .
The Endless Week by Laura Vazquez, translated from the Spanish by Alex Niemi (Dorothy)
It would also be a crime to leave Dorothy off of this list. Although they may not publish the most works of literary translation, they really do right by their books and, in terms of just their international authors, have an absolutely astonishing list. Marianne Fritz, whose “Whose Language You Do Not Understand” is the book Arno Schmidt stans should be lobbying to get into English. Marguerite Duras. Cristina Rivera Garza. Nathalie Léger. Each of their books are absolute bangers.
Not too long ago, Martin Riker from Dorothy wrote to me about The Endless Week, suggesting it was one of the most John O’Brien books that Dorothy had acquired. Which was funny to me, since I had heard about it just a couple weeks prior and preordered it immediately based on this description:
Like Beckett’s novels or Kafka’s stranger tales, The Endless Week is a work outside of time, as if novels had never existed and Laura Vazquez has suddenly invented one. And yet it could not be more contemporary, as startling and constantly new as the scrolling hyper-mediated reality it chronicles. Its characters are Salim, a young poet, and his sister Sara, who rarely leave home except virtually; their father, who is falling apart; and their grandmother, who is dying. To save their grandmother, Salim and Sara set out in search of their long-lost mother, accompanied by Salim’s online friend Jonathan, though their real quest is through the landscape of language and suffering that saturates both the real world and the virtual. The Endless Week is sharp and ever-shifting, at turns hilarious, tender, satirical, and terrifying. Not much happens, yet every moment is compulsively engaging. It is a major work by one of the most fearlessly original writers of our time.
You had me at: “a work outside of time, as if novels had never existed.”
This is one of the fall releases I’m most looking forward to, and I’m hoping to either have Martin write something for Mining the Dalkey Archive about it, or make it the subject of a podcast. Stay tuned, but order the book now!
As a reminder, all Open Letter books either written or translated by women are on sale at 40% off until the end of August. No code necessary—the discount is applied automatically at checkout.