If, unlike me, you have a working television set right now and can pick up German channels, you could tune in to the latest effort to bring literature to the small screen on ZDF tonight.
Blatantly cashing in on Schlink's bestseller, the show is called "Die Vorleser" and features a new team: sexy but arrogant Ijoma Mangold from Die Zeit - touted as "young" and "wild" but looking good in a well-cut suit nevertheless - and Amelie Fried, an experienced presenter and writer who I don't actually know, but who looks very mumsy and should therefore appeal to the book-buying Brigitte-reading demographic.
ZDF had to rethink its literature programming after kicking out Elke Heidenreich for being rude about the channel. She now does her show on the lovely litcolony website.
The programme pledges to inject some debate into the "books on TV" format, and it seems the two presenters do get into a bit of banter over books on the show. Which is a slightly less authoritarian approach than the "presenter holds book up to camera and orders viewers to read it" scheme adopted in the past. It remains to be seen whether Ijoma and Amelie will become Germany's Richard and Judy though...
Friday, 10 July 2009
Friday, 3 July 2009
Ligging With Grass
We interrupt this interruption to bring you all the latest from a whole new world - for me - the community of Günter Grass fans, followers and favourites.
Last night was the long-awaited Grass reading at the LCB, celebrating fifty years of his phenomenal debut novel The Tin Drum - along with three of his translators, Breon Mitchell, Per Öhrgaard (Danish) und Oili Suominen (Finnish). You should be able to listen to the event on Deutschlandfunk on the last Saturday in July. The weather was gorgeous, absolutely perfect for a trip out to the Wannsee, and about 5000 people agreed with me. I blagged a seat a long way from the stage and craned my neck. But it was worth it.
Grass read three passages from the novel. Now what with my puerile rebellious streak, I don't usually have a lot of time for Günter Grass. But the reading reminded me that The Tin Drum must have been the first German adult novel I read, at the age of 17, presumably in Ralph Mannheim's translation. And it also called to mind how incredibly fresh and exciting the book still is, half a century after its publication. This is great story-telling, beautiful and angry writing that kicks over the statues of cosy economic miracle-era West Germany, and is rightly celebrated as a groundbreaking piece of literature.
The translators each read a passage of their own new versions, and I can hardly say how thrilled I was by Breon Mitchell's rendering. All those great words! I'm told he's in the closing stages of his translation - and I know I for one am going to read it as soon as it comes out. Although Mitchell defended his good friend Mannheim, citing the circumstances at the time and the fact that it's a heck of a difficult book, he didn't pull any punches about the quality of the existing translation - like a good many translators at the time, Mannheim thought he'd better simplify this young upstart's novel, slashing the sentences, skipping bits and generally translating in a way that's just not acceptable any more. Plus, translators today have many more resources at their fingertips than they did fifty years ago.
All the translators and Grass's charming editor Helmut Frielinghaus talked about the legendary meetings held with the author. I suspect Grass may possibly be a tiny bit of a diva, and there was an atmosphere of awe surrounding these meetings. The translators put their questions to him - no question is too banal - and he answers them by either explaining what he meant or by telling them to make something up. The Tin Drum meeting was held in Gdansk, and Per Öhrgaard's eyes went glossy as he recalled going into a church with the writer and the whole congregation whispering "Günter Grass, Günter Grass". Actually I made that bit up about the tears in his eyes - I could only see the back of his head from where I was sitting.
My favourite part of the event was of course when the moderator Denis "completely choochie" Scheck asked the translators how readers in their countries had reacted to the revelation of Grass's "membership of the Waffen-SS". The man himself leaped in and insisted on correcting Scheck: no, he wasn't a member, he was conscripted like 100,000 other young men. Scheck smiled and stood corrected. Apparently though, the whole issue has been a storm in a teacup outside of Germany.
And then it was over. And then came the whole new world. Once the photos had been taken and the autographs signed, the Grass community convened on the terrace. I somehow got swept along and even got a piece of Tin Drum birthday cake - which was absolutely delicious, with not an eel or a potato in sight. What can I say? Mr. Grass has a large number of acolytes, almost all of them male. Or perhaps that's too rude - perhaps it would be better to say that Günter Grass is his own mini-branch of the literary industry, generating enough work for a good few editors, critics, translators, PAs, hairdressers and cake-makers. A little like a small planet with many satellites. But a planet well worth exploring.
Last night was the long-awaited Grass reading at the LCB, celebrating fifty years of his phenomenal debut novel The Tin Drum - along with three of his translators, Breon Mitchell, Per Öhrgaard (Danish) und Oili Suominen (Finnish). You should be able to listen to the event on Deutschlandfunk on the last Saturday in July. The weather was gorgeous, absolutely perfect for a trip out to the Wannsee, and about 5000 people agreed with me. I blagged a seat a long way from the stage and craned my neck. But it was worth it.
Grass read three passages from the novel. Now what with my puerile rebellious streak, I don't usually have a lot of time for Günter Grass. But the reading reminded me that The Tin Drum must have been the first German adult novel I read, at the age of 17, presumably in Ralph Mannheim's translation. And it also called to mind how incredibly fresh and exciting the book still is, half a century after its publication. This is great story-telling, beautiful and angry writing that kicks over the statues of cosy economic miracle-era West Germany, and is rightly celebrated as a groundbreaking piece of literature.
The translators each read a passage of their own new versions, and I can hardly say how thrilled I was by Breon Mitchell's rendering. All those great words! I'm told he's in the closing stages of his translation - and I know I for one am going to read it as soon as it comes out. Although Mitchell defended his good friend Mannheim, citing the circumstances at the time and the fact that it's a heck of a difficult book, he didn't pull any punches about the quality of the existing translation - like a good many translators at the time, Mannheim thought he'd better simplify this young upstart's novel, slashing the sentences, skipping bits and generally translating in a way that's just not acceptable any more. Plus, translators today have many more resources at their fingertips than they did fifty years ago.
All the translators and Grass's charming editor Helmut Frielinghaus talked about the legendary meetings held with the author. I suspect Grass may possibly be a tiny bit of a diva, and there was an atmosphere of awe surrounding these meetings. The translators put their questions to him - no question is too banal - and he answers them by either explaining what he meant or by telling them to make something up. The Tin Drum meeting was held in Gdansk, and Per Öhrgaard's eyes went glossy as he recalled going into a church with the writer and the whole congregation whispering "Günter Grass, Günter Grass". Actually I made that bit up about the tears in his eyes - I could only see the back of his head from where I was sitting.
My favourite part of the event was of course when the moderator Denis "completely choochie" Scheck asked the translators how readers in their countries had reacted to the revelation of Grass's "membership of the Waffen-SS". The man himself leaped in and insisted on correcting Scheck: no, he wasn't a member, he was conscripted like 100,000 other young men. Scheck smiled and stood corrected. Apparently though, the whole issue has been a storm in a teacup outside of Germany.
And then it was over. And then came the whole new world. Once the photos had been taken and the autographs signed, the Grass community convened on the terrace. I somehow got swept along and even got a piece of Tin Drum birthday cake - which was absolutely delicious, with not an eel or a potato in sight. What can I say? Mr. Grass has a large number of acolytes, almost all of them male. Or perhaps that's too rude - perhaps it would be better to say that Günter Grass is his own mini-branch of the literary industry, generating enough work for a good few editors, critics, translators, PAs, hairdressers and cake-makers. A little like a small planet with many satellites. But a planet well worth exploring.
Thursday, 25 June 2009
German Poetry Feature in Lit 15/16
Having said that, I just have to point out that the upcoming issue of LIT magazine features the following:
Bars Across Sky Across Feeling: A Selection of German Poetry in Translation, curated by Liesel Tarquini, with work by Susan Bernofsky, E.H. Bottenberg, Marica Bodrozic, Katy Derbyshire, Catherine Hales, Victoria Hill, Wendy Ann Kopisch, Friederike Mayröcker, Alistair Noon, Veronika Reichl, Monika Rinck, Silke Scheuermann, Lutz Seiler, Tzveta Sofronieva, Donna Stonecipher, Matthias Traxler and Chantal Wright…
If you happen to be in NY you could pick up a copy at their launch party on Saturday.
Bars Across Sky Across Feeling: A Selection of German Poetry in Translation, curated by Liesel Tarquini, with work by Susan Bernofsky, E.H. Bottenberg, Marica Bodrozic, Katy Derbyshire, Catherine Hales, Victoria Hill, Wendy Ann Kopisch, Friederike Mayröcker, Alistair Noon, Veronika Reichl, Monika Rinck, Silke Scheuermann, Lutz Seiler, Tzveta Sofronieva, Donna Stonecipher, Matthias Traxler and Chantal Wright…
If you happen to be in NY you could pick up a copy at their launch party on Saturday.
This Service Is Interrupted
I'm taking a blog break for dull personal reasons; normal service should be resumed by August at the latest.
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
Klagenfurt Kicks Off
The good people of Klagenfurt chose to wait until tomorrow to start the interesting part of the Festival of German-Language Literature - the Bachmann Prize readings. This year, not only can you read translations of the entries in seven languages, you can also watch all sorts of no doubt fascinating video files.
Here's what they say about themselves: "Without a doubt, the Ingeborg Bachmann Prize, alongside the Joseph Breitbach Prize and the Georg Büchner Prize, is the most important literary award in the German-speaking world." The 14 competitors are chosen by the jury and compete on the grounds of a single submission, and are a whole lot less established than the winner of the Büchner Prize. But what with German-speaking readers' increasing interest in awards, a win is good good good for books sales.
I like the fact that although Klagenfurt claims to be "the capital of literature" it's really only the Austrian book capital - a quick look at the list of competition entrants reveals that six out of the seven Germans in the running live where? In Berlin.
Here's what they say about themselves: "Without a doubt, the Ingeborg Bachmann Prize, alongside the Joseph Breitbach Prize and the Georg Büchner Prize, is the most important literary award in the German-speaking world." The 14 competitors are chosen by the jury and compete on the grounds of a single submission, and are a whole lot less established than the winner of the Büchner Prize. But what with German-speaking readers' increasing interest in awards, a win is good good good for books sales.
I like the fact that although Klagenfurt claims to be "the capital of literature" it's really only the Austrian book capital - a quick look at the list of competition entrants reveals that six out of the seven Germans in the running live where? In Berlin.
Translation Idol - The Results
Last night saw the glittering gala that was The Return of Translation Idol, at the rather marvelous Saint George's Bookshop. The response was slightly overwhelming, with a whopping twenty-seven entrants vying for the title. We somehow managed to keep people awake while all present rendered their renderings of Selim Özdogan's story "Schwule Ziegen auf Lesbos", and the entries from further afield - Switzerland! Austria! Scotland! Frankfurt! USA! - were read too.
The Poet's Prize went to Lesley Dean for her "Gay Goats on Lesbos". And the audience vote was split between a good few translators: in third place Isabel Cole and Noah Hussin; in second place Donal McLaughlin and Steph Morris; and the joint winners were Lesley Dean again and Paul Druce for his "ZORBA'S COOKBOOK Recipe No. 47 – A Feast for the Enlightened".
It all went to show that there are literally hundreds of different permutations on even a short text - and that Berlin harbours a heck of a lot of translatorly talent. Thanks again to all those who helped make it a great evening. All entries will be published on the no man's land website in due course (when we've recovered).
The Poet's Prize went to Lesley Dean for her "Gay Goats on Lesbos". And the audience vote was split between a good few translators: in third place Isabel Cole and Noah Hussin; in second place Donal McLaughlin and Steph Morris; and the joint winners were Lesley Dean again and Paul Druce for his "ZORBA'S COOKBOOK Recipe No. 47 – A Feast for the Enlightened".
It all went to show that there are literally hundreds of different permutations on even a short text - and that Berlin harbours a heck of a lot of translatorly talent. Thanks again to all those who helped make it a great evening. All entries will be published on the no man's land website in due course (when we've recovered).
Friday, 19 June 2009
Selim-Fieber
People of Berlin! Monday is your chance to see Mister Selim Özdogan live! In Berlin! At the brand spanking new Heimathafen venue! Reading from his work! And I can really recommend coming along, as Mister Selim Özdogan is not just an excellent writer but also an outstanding entertainer.
And then on Tuesday the man himself will take a back seat to the translators of the world, reading and judging at Translation Idol at Saint George's Bookshop.
I've got a babysitter for both nights. How cool - I mean really - how cool is that?
And then on Tuesday the man himself will take a back seat to the translators of the world, reading and judging at Translation Idol at Saint George's Bookshop.
I've got a babysitter for both nights. How cool - I mean really - how cool is that?
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