Four Translated Novels I Enjoyed This Year
Recommending some lovely and strange translated novels published in the last couple years.
Every now and then I try to use this newsletter for good, by which I mean recommending great yet overlooked books. Especially translated books on small presses since Americans (myself included) really do not read enough translated literature. There is an entire world of literature out there, quite literally. Don’t you want to sample as much of it as you can? I’ve got an essay in the drafts about how reading translated literature is one of the best things a young writer can do for their writing. We writers create our unique voices out of the voices that we read, at least in part. Do you want to be absorbing the exact same voices as all your peers? Or do you want to take in new influences and soak up different structures, styles, and forms? Anyway, I’ll publish that post at some point. For now, I figured I’d recommend a few books translated into English in 2024—with one from 2023—that I enjoyed.
(A couple months ago I recommended three translated “Kafkaesque” novels, of which The Singularity by Dino Buzzati was a 2024 translation. I won’t repeat that recommendation here, but it is a fun read.)
On the Calculation of Volume (Book I) by Solvej Balle (translated by Barbara J. Haveland)
I knew I was going to enjoy this series when a friend told me about a Danish author who had become a literary sensation and then largely cut herself off from society to live on an island and spend decades writing a seven-volume science fiction epic. The septology isn’t finished yet in Danish, much less translated into English, but New Directions published a translation of Books I and II last month.
Although the series is in a sense science fiction—a woman named Tara Selter finds herself perpetually trapped in November 18th while everyone else continues to experience linear time—don’t expect any kind of SF thriller. I inarticulately describe it as “Groundhog Day written by Rachel Cusk” because it is an unusual combination of wild science fiction conceit and quiet ruminations and observations that could feel at home in an autofiction novel. Our protagonist is trapped in a premise that could be the basis of a Tom Cruise blockbuster or MCU film. But she is not, at least in the first book, fighting time-traveling terrorists or cosmic entities. She is listening to birdsongs, studying the sunlight, maybe eating a leek or taking a jaunt into Paris. (Also unlike most big science fiction series, the two volumes published so far are around a trim 150 pages.) I won’t spoil anything by saying more but the novel is really lovely and captivating, pulling surprising meaning and depth from repetition.
Fulgentius by César Aira (translated by Chris Andrews)
Look, I’m a sucker for César Aira. His novels are always inventive, a bit absurd, and very short. His “flight forward” writing process is fascinating to me. Also, as a dude I do have to admit I love ancient Rome. (More the late Republic period than the Empire, but I digress…) Point being that it was probably inevitable I would love this short and absurd novel about a sexagenarian Roman general who is obsessed with staging the sole play he ever wrote—back as a precocious young artist—over and over again. It’s part historical novel and part postmodern mediation on art, conquest, and legacy.
Euphoria Days by Pilar Fraile (translated by Lizzie Davis)
Euphoria Days follows a cast of characters as they navigate sex, love, isolation, and meaning in a near-future Madrid. This is science fiction that extends our present just a little bit into the future. The characters mostly work in tech, and this future of seeking human connection in a world of data harvesting and algorithmic control will be familiar to anyone dating and living today. Like the previous two books, this one is short (just under 200 pages) and written in lively prose and fast-moving chapters.
The novel is published by an exciting new small press called Great Place Books. I believe is only their third book published. Perhaps this is an odd thing to note, but I was quite impressed with the printing and paper quality. Great trim size and high-quality paper. (Yes, I remain a book dork.) Very much looking forward to seeing what else GPB publishes.
Season of the Swamp by Yuri Herrera (translated by Lisa Dillman)
Yuri Herrera is one of the few contemporary authors whose books I will always buy and know I will love. Herrera’s first three novels are, in a sense, crime fiction, although each brings in elements of other styles and genres. All three are stripped-down, minimalist books written in haunting prose. I loved all three—if forced to choose, Signs Proceeding the End of the World is my favorite—as well as Herrera’s recent collection of surreal science fiction stories, Ten Planets.
With Season of the Swamp, Herrera moves to another genre: historical fiction. This novel looks at a gap in the life of Benito Juárez—Mexico’s first indigenous president, among other things—when he was briefly exiled in New Orleans in the 1850s. Juárez left essentially no account of his time in exile. Herrera, who lives in New Orleans today, imagines Juárez’s time navigating the boisterous and bewitching foreign city while preparing for political revolution. Herrera’s prose is both minimalist and ebullient, making historical New Orleans come alive in its polyphonic and chaotic glory, while also commenting on plenty of issues that are relevant to today. It is a book you will both want to tear through and linger in.
Although I didn’t plan it this way, I’m realizing that each of these four books is quite short. All are under 200 pages. So, you still have plenty of time to read them and pad out your 2024 read pile before the year ends.
Lastly, in personal news I was very chuffed by my first—quite early!—review of Metallic Realms. I won’t be posting every review in this newsletter, don’t worry, but the first positive review is a special thing… especially when you are still slogging through proofing. The Speculative Shelf called the novel “A full panoply of sci-fi delights—perfect for genre fans, the terminally online, or anyone caught up in fan culture” as well as “an exceedingly enjoyable read that I couldn’t put down. It’s a delightfully meta concept, executed to perfection.” I was the most pleased with the reviewer saying the novel “features one of the most hapless, oblivious, deeply unwell, totally unreliable, occasionally sympathetic, but almost always off-putting narrators of all time.” I really meant it when I wrote a post titled “Why Your Narrator Should Be a Weird Little Freak”!
Anyway, I really appreciate The Speculative Shelf’s thoughtful read. And if you are interested at all, the novel can be preordered here. It will be published next May.
I'm impatiently waiting for Season of the Swamp to arrive! For my own books in translation recs loved Claudia Piñiero's work in particular this year
I can't comment on the others (yet), but I will second the praise for Season of the Swamp, which manages to be recognizably Herreran despite every surface element (historical novel using a national hero set in a US city) suggesting it wouldn't be - though I'd also say it seemed to open up new ways to be a Yuri Herrera novel. Really great book.