Top super-duper medal-winning super-charming good-looking über-talented oh my God I'm running out of praise translator John E. Woods is interviewed by Kristen Allen in The Local.
I rather admire him.
Showing posts with label john e. woods. Show all posts
Showing posts with label john e. woods. Show all posts
Thursday, 10 June 2010
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Ingo Schulze on the Terrace
Before everyone in Berlin switches their attention to the terraces as the World Cup kicks off, Ingo Schulze last night had the honour of opening the outdoor season at the Literary Colloquium. Now if you've never been to the Literary Colloquium in Berlin, you must right this wrong as soon as possible. Even if you live in Michigan or Montevideo. I've said it before but I'll say it again: it is the world's most beautiful literary venue, a lakeside villa on the edge of Berlin where writers and translators can stay. And despite the opulent surroundings, everyone who works there is very friendly and welcoming.
It's fine and dandy in the winter, but in the summer the LCB comes into its own. Imagine a balmy evening on the terrace, sipping wine and listening to a talented writer as the sun sets over the Wannsee. There may be few pleasures more innocent. Ahh.
Anyway, Ingo Schulze has written a new book of short stories, Orangen und Engel. Allow me to insult your intelligence by translating that - it means Oranges and Angels. And it's all about Italy, where such things grow on trees. I forgot to look at the book, but it's illustrated with photos by Matthias Hoch. Incidentally, Schulze's previous short story collection is just out in English, no doubt expertly translated by John E. Woods, under the title One More Story. Click on that link to make your way to an excerpt. His gorgeous novel set in the heady summer of 1989, Adam and Evelyn, is also coming up in English at some point.
The thing about Schulze's prose is that it appears deceptively simple. But as you delve deeper, you find nuances of meaning and humour that make you realise just how clever the man is. He's also very nice, and very political, and was recently made president of the Berlin Academy of Arts. So his book on Italy is rather an orange to be peeled and dissected, discovering the sweetness inside. Oh, I do so love a laboured metaphor.
To start the evening, Schulze talked to the critic Ursula März about the German and his own relationship to Italy. Ever since Goethe, the Germans have had the hots for the place. And this year the Villa Massimo in Rome celebrates its hundredth anniversary as a state-owned hangout for German writers and artists. Ingo Schulze and his family spent 2007 there, working very hard apparently. And strangely enough, the narrator in Orangen und Engel is also a writer staying at the Villa Massimo with his family. As so often, Ingo Schulze plays his game of pretending the narrator is Ingo Schulze. Which is always fun.
Schulze read a long piece from the collection, featuring a Romanian man who tells the narrator a story every writer wants to hear. The political undertones were very clear but never overwhelmed the story, which had me transfixed from about a third of the way in. This is far from a romanticised view of Italy, despite featuring Latin lovers and car accidents. Afterwards, I talked to a jet-setting professional hair colorist about whether the story was feasible. No, even the apparently realistic parts aren't overly likely to have ever happened to anyone. But surely that's the joy of telling stories - and of being told them? Because in stories, anything can happen. And in Ingo Schulze's stories, it often does.
It's fine and dandy in the winter, but in the summer the LCB comes into its own. Imagine a balmy evening on the terrace, sipping wine and listening to a talented writer as the sun sets over the Wannsee. There may be few pleasures more innocent. Ahh.
Anyway, Ingo Schulze has written a new book of short stories, Orangen und Engel. Allow me to insult your intelligence by translating that - it means Oranges and Angels. And it's all about Italy, where such things grow on trees. I forgot to look at the book, but it's illustrated with photos by Matthias Hoch. Incidentally, Schulze's previous short story collection is just out in English, no doubt expertly translated by John E. Woods, under the title One More Story. Click on that link to make your way to an excerpt. His gorgeous novel set in the heady summer of 1989, Adam and Evelyn, is also coming up in English at some point.
The thing about Schulze's prose is that it appears deceptively simple. But as you delve deeper, you find nuances of meaning and humour that make you realise just how clever the man is. He's also very nice, and very political, and was recently made president of the Berlin Academy of Arts. So his book on Italy is rather an orange to be peeled and dissected, discovering the sweetness inside. Oh, I do so love a laboured metaphor.
To start the evening, Schulze talked to the critic Ursula März about the German and his own relationship to Italy. Ever since Goethe, the Germans have had the hots for the place. And this year the Villa Massimo in Rome celebrates its hundredth anniversary as a state-owned hangout for German writers and artists. Ingo Schulze and his family spent 2007 there, working very hard apparently. And strangely enough, the narrator in Orangen und Engel is also a writer staying at the Villa Massimo with his family. As so often, Ingo Schulze plays his game of pretending the narrator is Ingo Schulze. Which is always fun.
Schulze read a long piece from the collection, featuring a Romanian man who tells the narrator a story every writer wants to hear. The political undertones were very clear but never overwhelmed the story, which had me transfixed from about a third of the way in. This is far from a romanticised view of Italy, despite featuring Latin lovers and car accidents. Afterwards, I talked to a jet-setting professional hair colorist about whether the story was feasible. No, even the apparently realistic parts aren't overly likely to have ever happened to anyone. But surely that's the joy of telling stories - and of being told them? Because in stories, anything can happen. And in Ingo Schulze's stories, it often does.
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Zettel's Traum/Bottom's Dream
I know there are a good few Arno Schmidt enthusiasts out there. And presumably they're all holding their breath until 1 October, when the new edition of Zettel's Traum comes out in German.
The book is a mammoth project, originally published in folio format in 1970, presenting Schmidt's typescripts with handwritten corrections, and crossings-out. Each page is divided into three interrelated columns. You can watch a video of someone turning the pages to get an idea of just how wrist-achingly huge it was. Apparently it weighed 17 pounds. And despite the incredible price of 345 DM (or 298 DM for a subscription), the original print run of 2000 copies sold out in three months and is now of course a collector's item.
It tells the "story" of a couple, their daughter and a friend who is considered an expert on literature. The couple are translating Edgar Allen Poe (as was Arno Schmidt), so he comes up rather a lot. Otherwise, they go on long walks and talk a lot with a bit of voyeurism thrown in. All vivid with tiny details and allusions, which Schmidt claimed to have collected beforehand on 120,000 scraps of paper (or Zettel, hence the title - which of course is not as simple as all that, also referring to Bottom's unbelievable dream in Shakespeare, hence the English title). A kind of rural Finnegan's Wake, if you will, only much longer.
Now last time I asked, eminent translator John E. Woods was still plugging away at his English version and hoping to have it published "somewhere" in 2011 0r 2012. So real enthusiasts will probably have to make do with the new German edition for the time being - which will be "set in type and not the offset printing of the original, but like a Real Book" (said John). It'll cost somewhere between €198 and € 448, depending on what edition and subscription model you choose. And to really whet your appetite, the Schmidt expert Marius Fränzel has started a blog on reading it, inventively entitled Zettel's Traum Lesen.
The book is a mammoth project, originally published in folio format in 1970, presenting Schmidt's typescripts with handwritten corrections, and crossings-out. Each page is divided into three interrelated columns. You can watch a video of someone turning the pages to get an idea of just how wrist-achingly huge it was. Apparently it weighed 17 pounds. And despite the incredible price of 345 DM (or 298 DM for a subscription), the original print run of 2000 copies sold out in three months and is now of course a collector's item.
It tells the "story" of a couple, their daughter and a friend who is considered an expert on literature. The couple are translating Edgar Allen Poe (as was Arno Schmidt), so he comes up rather a lot. Otherwise, they go on long walks and talk a lot with a bit of voyeurism thrown in. All vivid with tiny details and allusions, which Schmidt claimed to have collected beforehand on 120,000 scraps of paper (or Zettel, hence the title - which of course is not as simple as all that, also referring to Bottom's unbelievable dream in Shakespeare, hence the English title). A kind of rural Finnegan's Wake, if you will, only much longer.
Now last time I asked, eminent translator John E. Woods was still plugging away at his English version and hoping to have it published "somewhere" in 2011 0r 2012. So real enthusiasts will probably have to make do with the new German edition for the time being - which will be "set in type and not the offset printing of the original, but like a Real Book" (said John). It'll cost somewhere between €198 and € 448, depending on what edition and subscription model you choose. And to really whet your appetite, the Schmidt expert Marius Fränzel has started a blog on reading it, inventively entitled Zettel's Traum Lesen.
Monday, 8 June 2009
Wolfenbüttel: 9 Hours' Sleep Is Not Enough
I'm back at my desk after a heady weekend of translatorly frolics. The Wolfenbütteler Gespräch is the German literary translators' association's annual get-together, where the members meet and greet, give and receive readings, workshops and honours, and generally work up a sweat on and off the dancefloor. It's a pretty unique gathering that changes the face of the small town of Wolfenbüttel for three days of every year.
What struck me this year was the absolutely warm and supportive atmosphere. Although a couple of events are open to the public and the odd editor and student does attend, we were pretty much all in the same boat. But this year there seemed no trace of creative or political rivalry - possibly because there were fewer people in attendance than in the last couple of years. Instead, all the criticism in the workshops was wonderfully constructive, there were professions of support and appreciation all over the shop, and I generally felt embraced in a warm hug the whole time I was there.
The weekend kicked off with an evening of readings - four simultaneous ones, to be precise. I went to "My Favourite Book", which was an excellent idea and expertly moderated by Isabel Bogdan - a shout-out to Isa right here and thanks for all the Kleidpropaganda! Imagine the riches when four outstanding translators read from the books they've most enjoyed translating. Five hours' sleep later it was off to the workshops. I attended an all-day creative writing session, which convinced me that literary translators have all the skills they need to write their own material - and are their own best critics.
That evening Susanne Lange handed on the VdÜ's Hieronymusring award to Ulrich Blumenbach, from Cervantes to David Foster Wallace in one infinite leap. And then of course there was the party, where DJs Lang & Scheidt had them translators shakin' their bacon all night long. There were requests for a request form next year (in dreifacher Ausfertigung?), but I'm tempted to remain a dictatorial DJ. It was at least an honour to be told by a prizewinning translator that we had played "mainly good music".
A short four hours in the land of nod were followed by one of my highlights - Ingo Schulze in conversation with his English and Hungarian translators, John E. Woods and Lídia Nádori. The subject was translating Neue Leben - which presented a few problems, as readers outside of the former East Germany (including in the West) aren't generally familiar with a lot of the material. So the translators added a few footnotes of their own, in addition to the know-it-all notes by the "editor", a certain I.S. Ingo Schulze, we were told, is one of the friendliest and most helpful authors around - rather like being called the most intelligent rock singer, he laughed.
They also mentioned the May workshop in Straelen with the author and 17 of his translators, all of whom are working on Adam und Evelyn. You can listen to pieces (in German) on the workshop via Deutsche Welle and Deutschlandradio. And I now have a signed and tattered copy of Neue Leben to go with John Woods' translation New Lives on my To Be Read pile.
All in all, I suspect most of us returned home tired but happy. Oh, and can I just add that the overall female:male ratio was about 15:1, but the ratio of female to male record requesters was 1:7. What does this tell us?
What struck me this year was the absolutely warm and supportive atmosphere. Although a couple of events are open to the public and the odd editor and student does attend, we were pretty much all in the same boat. But this year there seemed no trace of creative or political rivalry - possibly because there were fewer people in attendance than in the last couple of years. Instead, all the criticism in the workshops was wonderfully constructive, there were professions of support and appreciation all over the shop, and I generally felt embraced in a warm hug the whole time I was there.
The weekend kicked off with an evening of readings - four simultaneous ones, to be precise. I went to "My Favourite Book", which was an excellent idea and expertly moderated by Isabel Bogdan - a shout-out to Isa right here and thanks for all the Kleidpropaganda! Imagine the riches when four outstanding translators read from the books they've most enjoyed translating. Five hours' sleep later it was off to the workshops. I attended an all-day creative writing session, which convinced me that literary translators have all the skills they need to write their own material - and are their own best critics.
That evening Susanne Lange handed on the VdÜ's Hieronymusring award to Ulrich Blumenbach, from Cervantes to David Foster Wallace in one infinite leap. And then of course there was the party, where DJs Lang & Scheidt had them translators shakin' their bacon all night long. There were requests for a request form next year (in dreifacher Ausfertigung?), but I'm tempted to remain a dictatorial DJ. It was at least an honour to be told by a prizewinning translator that we had played "mainly good music".
A short four hours in the land of nod were followed by one of my highlights - Ingo Schulze in conversation with his English and Hungarian translators, John E. Woods and Lídia Nádori. The subject was translating Neue Leben - which presented a few problems, as readers outside of the former East Germany (including in the West) aren't generally familiar with a lot of the material. So the translators added a few footnotes of their own, in addition to the know-it-all notes by the "editor", a certain I.S. Ingo Schulze, we were told, is one of the friendliest and most helpful authors around - rather like being called the most intelligent rock singer, he laughed.
They also mentioned the May workshop in Straelen with the author and 17 of his translators, all of whom are working on Adam und Evelyn. You can listen to pieces (in German) on the workshop via Deutsche Welle and Deutschlandradio. And I now have a signed and tattered copy of Neue Leben to go with John Woods' translation New Lives on my To Be Read pile.
All in all, I suspect most of us returned home tired but happy. Oh, and can I just add that the overall female:male ratio was about 15:1, but the ratio of female to male record requesters was 1:7. What does this tell us?
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
John E. Woods Live
My informer has sent me a marvellous link to an event at the Goethe Institut in Chicago: An Evening of Literature by and about Arno Schmidt with his translator John Woods and publisher Bernd Rauschenbach. You can listen to an audio file, which I haven't done yet but will very soon, and I know for sure it will be very entertaining for all you German book lovers out there. I once experienced this double-act live and will never forget it...
Tuesday, 27 May 2008
Events Round-Up
Excitement looms, with three interesting events on the horizon.
1. Übersetzer packen aus at the Literaturwerkstatt Berlin on Thursday night. This time it's a special on dialogue, starring Susanne Mende and Kristof Magnusson. Susanne translates mainly Latin American literature and teaches literary translation in Potsdam. She also writes and runs the Berlin Crime Writing Salon. And Kristof is actually from Iceland, writes plays, prose and essays in German and translates from Icelandic. He looks uncannily like someone I used to work with and is a bugger to translate. I'll be interested to meet him and will be behind the bar as usual.
2. Kraftfeld Moderne at the LCB this coming Monday. John E. Woods presents the translators Doreen Daume, Helmut Frielinghaus und Susanne Höbel on Bruno Schulz and William Faulkner. And perhaps John will bring along his glow-in-the-dark medal to reflect its light on all translators present.
3. Murder Farm at the Goethe-Institut in London on Tuesday. Andrea Maria Schenkel launches the English translation of the out-of-nowhere bestseller Tannöd. Apparently, although the press release doesn't tell you so, her translator Anthea Bell will also be there.
So, Berliners or anyone stuck in boring old London. Get your skates on for some fine translation-related evening entertainment. And don't say I never tell you anything.
1. Übersetzer packen aus at the Literaturwerkstatt Berlin on Thursday night. This time it's a special on dialogue, starring Susanne Mende and Kristof Magnusson. Susanne translates mainly Latin American literature and teaches literary translation in Potsdam. She also writes and runs the Berlin Crime Writing Salon. And Kristof is actually from Iceland, writes plays, prose and essays in German and translates from Icelandic. He looks uncannily like someone I used to work with and is a bugger to translate. I'll be interested to meet him and will be behind the bar as usual.
2. Kraftfeld Moderne at the LCB this coming Monday. John E. Woods presents the translators Doreen Daume, Helmut Frielinghaus und Susanne Höbel on Bruno Schulz and William Faulkner. And perhaps John will bring along his glow-in-the-dark medal to reflect its light on all translators present.
3. Murder Farm at the Goethe-Institut in London on Tuesday. Andrea Maria Schenkel launches the English translation of the out-of-nowhere bestseller Tannöd. Apparently, although the press release doesn't tell you so, her translator Anthea Bell will also be there.
So, Berliners or anyone stuck in boring old London. Get your skates on for some fine translation-related evening entertainment. And don't say I never tell you anything.
Thursday, 27 March 2008
Translator TV
So exciting. John E. Woods was on the news last night.
You can watch the whole item on the presentation of the Goethe Medal here. If you don't want to watch all of last night's Tagesschau, just skip to 11:51 for the translator-relevant bit.
You can watch the whole item on the presentation of the Goethe Medal here. If you don't want to watch all of last night's Tagesschau, just skip to 11:51 for the translator-relevant bit.
Friday, 7 March 2008
Translator Wins Medal
This makes me so happy! As the VdÜ has pointed out, John E. Woods is going to be awarded the Goethe Medal. Hooray! That puts him on a par with Karl Popper, Billy Wilder and Daniel Barenboim!
The medal is awarded - finds sober voice again - to honour outstanding achievements in the field of international cultural mediation. It's an official state medal presented by the Goethe Institut. And John E. Woods will presumably wear it on every possible occasion - I certainly would. I wonder if it's on a little pin for his jacket or a full-on Jim'll Fix It-style dangler?
Here's John on John:
"There are many images for what the translator does. The one I finally hit on for myself is that I am essentially a performing artist, in much the same way as the violinist or musical performer takes a musical score – for other people simply black dots on a page – and turns it into something that others can enjoy. I think that we fulfill the same mediating position."
In: Harman, Mark: "A Conversation with John E. Woods". Translation Review, Nr. 44/45, 1994
So modest. John has translated all sorts of impressive people - Doris Dörrie, Thomas Mann, Arno Schmidt, Ingo Schulze. He also claims to be the only translator in the US who makes his living out of literary translation alone. Only the thing is, he's not - in the US, that is. Because he lives right here in the heart of Berlin - round the corner from me. I sometimes see him out shopping, and stop to fawn embarrassingly because I'm so utterly in awe. Next time he goes down to Extra, I hope he'll be sporting his medal for all to see. Then I'll march up to him and shout it out to all the other shoppers and staff: "Look! Behold this beautiful shiny medal! This man has been honoured for his outstanding achievements in the field of cultural mediation! Bow down before his hallowed feet and give him a discount on the gerkins, O ye of little faith!"
The medal is awarded - finds sober voice again - to honour outstanding achievements in the field of international cultural mediation. It's an official state medal presented by the Goethe Institut. And John E. Woods will presumably wear it on every possible occasion - I certainly would. I wonder if it's on a little pin for his jacket or a full-on Jim'll Fix It-style dangler?
Here's John on John:
"There are many images for what the translator does. The one I finally hit on for myself is that I am essentially a performing artist, in much the same way as the violinist or musical performer takes a musical score – for other people simply black dots on a page – and turns it into something that others can enjoy. I think that we fulfill the same mediating position."
In: Harman, Mark: "A Conversation with John E. Woods". Translation Review, Nr. 44/45, 1994
So modest. John has translated all sorts of impressive people - Doris Dörrie, Thomas Mann, Arno Schmidt, Ingo Schulze. He also claims to be the only translator in the US who makes his living out of literary translation alone. Only the thing is, he's not - in the US, that is. Because he lives right here in the heart of Berlin - round the corner from me. I sometimes see him out shopping, and stop to fawn embarrassingly because I'm so utterly in awe. Next time he goes down to Extra, I hope he'll be sporting his medal for all to see. Then I'll march up to him and shout it out to all the other shoppers and staff: "Look! Behold this beautiful shiny medal! This man has been honoured for his outstanding achievements in the field of cultural mediation! Bow down before his hallowed feet and give him a discount on the gerkins, O ye of little faith!"
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