One Book, Two Reviews: The Unworthy by Agustina Bazterrica, translated by Sarah Moses
One Book, Two Reviews: The Unworthy by Agustina Bazterrica, translated by Sarah Moses
One Book, Two Reviews: The Unworthy by Agustina Bazterrica, translated by Sarah Moses
At a museum in an unnamed African city, librarian turned cotton farmer turned security guard Toby Kunta takes a hostage — a freelance journalist originally from this country, now based in Berlin.
In G, Klara du Plessis and Khashayar “Kes” Mohammadi look at a single sound that connects two parts of the world that we rarely imagine in proximity, Iran and South Africa. They do so by exploring the voiceless uvular fricative and its close cousin, the voiced velar fricative, which are presented phonetically by the Greek letters chi (x) and gamma (ɣ) and are generally transposed into a roman alphabet as ch (e.g., loch) or kh (e.g., Khalil).
The structure offers a fresh twist on whodunnits in that the lead detective operates mostly in the background and the story unfolds by recounting the daily lives of central characters, many of whom do not hide their trans or queer identities.
Graeme Macrae Burnet’s A Case of Matricide is a beautifully written noir novel.
My second time reviewing GauZ’ for TMR is another success; I sincerely hope to read more of his work in translation in the future.
Playing satirist, tragedian, humorist, and social historian, Lambert produces a unique book that contains a complete world.
Silken Gazelles is a translated work of literary fiction that demands slow and careful attention while reading to catch all the beauty.
As Tomoko reflects on her life from middle-age, one year stands out in shining glory, a year she thoroughly loved, despite the reasons for its beginning and tragedy at the end: the year she was twelve, in 1972.
The Lantern and the Night Moths is a collection of the work of five Chinese poets, translated by Wang, and accompanied by her notes in response to their writing, as well as the challenges of translating their poems to English and the displacement of being a diaspora poet-translator.
A competitive swimmer and university student in Toronto is selected to attend a summer training program in Bordeaux. In the meantime, her volatile and domineering coach puts her through bizarre, painful rituals at his apartment, nominally designed to release her of her impurities.
Caroline Dawson opens her autobiographical novel, As the Andes Disappeared, with the declaration: “The first time I decided not to kill myself, I was seven years old.”
A story of scientific discovery, complicated by family, complicated by a codependent relationship with decades of history – that is Sadie X, by Clara Dupuis-Morency, and translated from the original French by Aimee Wall.
Told through poetry, prose, conversations, and medical reports, this novel is an achronological assemblage, its structural innovation suggesting the messiness of pregnancy and early motherhood, the struggle to make sense of it as it happens.
Some of the most exciting, mind-bending, innovative literature these days comes out of the Nordic countries, in my humble and slightly pretentious opinion.