Lists
by Powell's Staff, July 26, 2023 8:20 AM
This July, we’re so pleased to bring you an exciting collection of new books in translation. On this list, you’ll find a French “firecracker of a book,” a Japanese novel about the gentle ecosystem of working in a bookstore, an “almost impossibly epic tale of the Americas” from a Spanish author, a “dizzying but wonderful cyberpunk detective thriller” from Korea, a thoughtful examination the aftermath of trauma from Argentina, a Japanese short story collection about “the wounds of nuclear power and the hubris of war,” a provocative French novel, a multigenerational epic from a Syrian author, a Japanese novel that looks at “gender roles and exploitation in the literary world via magical realism,” and a mesmerizing, English-language debut from an Israeli author. The fortunetellers (booksellers) at Powell's guarantee: you're going to fall in love with at least one book on this list.
by Natalia Ginzburg (tr. Gini Alhadeff)
Translated from the French
I'd been hearing great things about Natalia Ginzburg for some time, but never did get to reading her until this stylish new volume came out from New Directions, translated by Gini Alhadeff. It was Ginzburg's first (put out under a pseudonym since Jews weren't allowed to publish in fascist Italy), and that is nothing short of amazing since it's so masterfully written, and now I can't wait to do a deeper dive into her oeuvre. The Road to the City is a firecracker of a book: the prose moves at the speed of thought, pulling the reader in immediately. At first, the characters seem too mean, too crude, too ignorant — but then you recognize them in the people you've known and met and been, at one time or other, and it feels like a revelation of truth-telling. If you're looking for a way into Ginzburg's prose, this new installment in the slickly playful Storybook ND series is a winner on all counts. — Jennifer R.
by Satoshi Yagisawa (tr. Eric Ozawa)
Translated from the Japanese
In Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa, originally published in Japan in 2010 and newly translated into English by Eric Ozawa, bookstores are at the center of their own ecosystem and you’re allowed to exist on your own terms, even if those terms mean working to find a new set of terms. Days at the Morisaki Bookshop is a story about love, family, the redemptive power of books, and the quiet recalibrations that happen when you purposefully let yourself take the time you need to recalibrate to a life you weren’t expecting. — Kelsey F.
For more, read bookseller Kelsey F.'s Powell's Picks Spotlight on Days at the Morisaki Bookshop.
by Juan Gómez Bárcena (tr. Katie Whittemore)
Translated from the Spanish
In this almost impossibly epic tale of the Americas, Gómez Bárcena examines the impulse behind discovery and conquest, religious conversion of native peoples, depredations by colonial government, and the disappointments of the Mexican Revolution, culminating in a chase north for the almighty dollar in Trump's USA. The setup whereby mediocre soldier Juan de Toñanes is given an unofficial mission (to be recognized and remunerated with gold only if successful, disowned and unpaid if not) by the viceroy to capture an Indian who threatens the colonial establishment appears comic, at first, and there are certainly elements of Quixote, here. The tone quickly changes, however, as the reader absorbs the implications of the reasoning of the Spanish agents who recruit Juan, as a reflection of the ruthlessness of the administration. There is certainly a picaresque element to Juan's journey through the Mexican landscape to interview those who have known the Indian, also named Juan, a nice mirroring of hunter and hunted, Spaniard and Indigenous. It's a testament to the author's, as well as the translator's, powers that the narrative sings with poetry and dark humor all the while Juan doggedly hurls himself through time-space in this ever-surprising odyssey. Not Even the Dead is a bravura performance of deep thought and feeling that so definitively punctures the myths of the great dream factory that readers can really ponder what we continue to create with our time, our labor, our attention — and imagine alternatives. Phenomenal! A new classic. — Jennifer R.
by Djuna (tr. Anton Hur)
Translated from the Korean
The Korean conglomerate LK is creating an elevator into Earth’s orbit on the fictional island of Patusan, much to the displeasure of the Patusan people. This new hub of travel to and from our planet has turned their once quiet, one-time stop tropical resort into a bustling gateway to the beyond. Deep within the space junk counterweight which holds the elevator’s “spider cable” taut is a mass of crucial data, left by LK’s former CEO, the control of which will determine humanity’s future.
Amongst the many racing to the counterweight to retrieve this data are Mac, LK’s Chief of External Affairs – and our narrator – who is becoming increasingly disillusioned with his employer; Choi Gangwu, who is unknowingly at the center of Mac’s investigations; the former CEO’s brilliant niece and power-hungry son; and Rex Tamaki, a violent officer in LK’s Security Division. Originally planned to be a low-budget sci-fi movie, this antic novel also features a maze of fake identities, neuro-implants, and political grievances from the Patusan Liberation Front. A dizzying but wonderful cyberpunk detective thriller which stories South Korea’s neocolonial ambitions and its effects not only on the colonized, but also the people working for Korea and the world as a whole. — Aster H.
by Claudia Piñeiro (tr. Frances Riddle)
Translated from the Spanish
One of the more thoughtful explorations I’ve read of the aftermath of trauma is found in Claudia Piñeiro’s A Little Luck (translated by Frances Riddle). At a time when the use of trauma in fiction is the topic of much discussion, Piñeiro’s book exposes the damage wrought from pain, fear, and shame, without exploiting those emotions. This is, ultimately, a book about healing, even if it takes decades to truly start. — Keith M.
For more, read bookseller Keith M.'s Powell's Picks Spotlight on a Little Luck.
by Erika Kobayashi (tr. Brian Bergstrom)
Translated from the Japanese
Kobayashi continues to weave generations of women into stories of the wounds of nuclear power and the hubris of war, this time in a lyrical collection of eleven short stories. These stories follow the growth and change of nuclear power and how it mirrors the lives of the women in these stories. Though these generations are simply trying to live their lives, they each become their own perfect example of the irrevocable consequences of misusing atomic power. These stories are beautifully written and at times heartbreaking to read, though still deeply important to understand. — Aster H.
by Shumona Sinha (tr. Teresa Lavender Fagan)
Translated from the French
Down with the Poor! by Shumona Sinha is a provocative title for a very provocative book. Originally published in France in 2011, this is a challenging novel from the perspective of a woman arrested for attacking a refugee. She herself is a foreigner who works as an interpreter for refugees seeking asylum. In the course of her work, she witnesses the many ways refugees struggle to survive, including lying about their reasons for seeking asylum from their home countries in order to be granted a safer existence in France. In her position above the refugees, she has internalized many of the views of the dominant culture, and as such, she comes to develop a hatred and disdain for those she originally identified with. She sees them all as liars rather than questioning the system which necessitates these lies in the first place. Down with the Poor! is a powerful examination of the ways members of oppressed classes can be co-opted in their own and others' oppression. — Alyssa C.
by Khaled Khalifa (tr. Leri Price)
This multi-generational epic from Syrian author Khaled Khalifa (a National Book Award finalist for Death is Hard Work). Its story follows a series of tragedies (children being orphaned, floods, cults, famines, plagues, to name just a few), the people they affect, and the lives that are built despite these hardships — lives that are filled with love and redemption, loss and beauty, pleasure and desire. The sweeping story is peppered throughout with elements of magical realism, that imbues everything with a larger-than-life feeling that ultimately serves to highlight how simultaneously lovely and harrowing life’s tribulations can be. — Kelsey F.
by Maru Ayase (tr. Haydn Trowell)
Translated from the Japanese
The Forest Brims Over is the first of Ayase's novels to be translated into English, and both the themes and writing style remind me of Han Kang's The Vegetarian. Ayase's approach to examining gender roles and exploitation in the literary world via magical realism was interwoven throughout in a way that never felt jarring to the plot. I appreciated the varied perspectives within this book and the different self-reflections this allowed for internal character dialogue. The novel's gentle fluidity moves the reader along and culminates in an unexpected but lovely end that provided enough closure to be satisfying while leaving plenty of open-endedness for further pondering. — Charlotte S.
by Hila Blum (tr. Daniella Zamir)
Translated from the Hebrew
In this mesmerizing, English-language debut from Israeli author, Hilda Blum somehow manages to write a suspenseful, loving, in-depth look at the turbulent relationship between a mother and daughter. Nearly two decades after seeing her estranged daughter for the last time, Yoella finds herself spying on her two granddaughters who she has yet to meet. The scene forces her to look back on everything that happened between her and her daughter, Leah, and what led to Leah’s departure. Heartbreaking and deft, this is an astounding first book in English from Blum, in a beautiful translation from Daniella Zamir. — Kelsey F.
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For more literature in translation, check out our recommendations from April 2023 and May–June 2023.
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