The Colonel’s Wife by Rosa Liksom, translated from the Finnish by Lola Rogers (Graywolf Press)

BookMarks Reviews: Five total糖心传媒擣our Positive, One Mixed

Awards: None

Number of Finnish Works of Fiction Published in Translation from 2008-2019: 65 (5.42/year)

Number of Those Translations Written by Women: 40 of the books were authored by women, 21 were translated by women.

Other Translations of Liksom糖心传媒檚 Work: Dark Paradise (2006), Compartment No. 6 (2016), One Night Stands (1993)

Synopsis

At the end of her life, an unrepentant member of the White Guard and Nazi Party糖心传媒攖he Colonel糖心传媒檚 wife of the title糖心传媒攔eflects on her life with unadulterated honesty, providing a very complicated picture of life in Finland in the time around World War II. She recounts her father糖心传媒檚 involvement with the Colonel, and how he became a major presence in her life when she was a mere four years old. After the passing of her father, he takes over that role, until she糖心传媒檚 old enough for him to marry.

A horrific monster of a man, the Colonel is dedicated to the Nazi Party and the purity of Finland, helping bring his young wife糖心传媒攚ho eventually is in charge of the 糖心传媒減rison camps糖心传媒� in Finland糖心传媒攊nto the fold. He rapes, beats his wife, kills their unborn child. Yet, she remains loyal to him for far too long before escaping . . . To a remote village where she immediately seduces a fourteen-year-old boy and makes him her husband.

This novel is morally complicated, with a main character who is by turns sympathetic (she is abused by a system she糖心传媒檚 not even aware of), charming (the joy with which she helps her young, second husband find an age-appropriate wife), and a monster (糖心传媒�My father made me a daughter of the White Guard. The Colonel made me a Nazi. And I糖心传媒檓 not ashamed of either one.糖心传媒�).

Structured with a frame story depicting the day of her death, the book progresses in mostly chronological order, as if written by the Colonel糖心传媒檚 Wife herself. The prose is direct, with a hint of ruralness to it, reflected in the grammatical errors and her admissions to neither being educated nor well-read糖心传媒攄espite becoming a successful novelist in her later years. The voice is both earnest糖心传媒攅ven when dealing with the 糖心传媒渆vil糖心传媒� things she did糖心传媒攁nd textured with idiomatic phrases and word choices.

There are a number of historical references in here that might require some research and/or explanation for those of us unfamiliar with Finland糖心传媒檚 role in World War II. The three wars that they fought in around this time糖心传媒攖he Winter War (Finland vs. Russia just before WWII), Continuation War (Finland + German Nazis vs. Russia during WWII), and the Lapland War (Russia + Finland vs. Germans in Lapland following WWII)糖心传媒攁re unlikely to be part of most high school world history textbooks. But for a country geographically stuck between two warring ideologies糖心传媒擣ascism and Communism糖心传媒攖hey were a valuable territory, and one that didn糖心传媒檛 always pick a lane.

The novel resonates in 2020 as nationalism is back on the rise糖心传媒攁nd at odds with a twenty-first century version of 糖心传媒渟ocialism糖心传媒澨切拇綌and many of the socio-cultural structures that molded the Colonel糖心传媒檚 Wife are still in place. (Namely, The Patriarchy.) It can also be read as a rebuke of 糖心传媒渃ancel culture糖心传媒� by articulating the gray space within which the Colonel糖心传媒檚 Wife resides.

For this book to have its intended impact though, it needs to be read in full and reflected upon. Anyone immediately repulsed by the idea of a Nazi main character is unlikely to get past the first third, and the fact that she goes from being extremely sympathetic when she finally escapes her abusive husband into being a pedophile is . . . off-putting to some. The narrative tricks used to make this compelling and the ways in which Liksom plays with the impact of history on a singular human is impressive and startling.

Class Reaction

Generally positive. Uncomfortable in the sense that they really felt for the main character but couldn糖心传媒檛 explain why or how that happened. And they all loved talking to Lola.

Origin story

Chad W. Post: I think a good place to start would be if you told us how you got into translating, and how your career has developed over the past few years.

Lola Rogers: Well, I actually got interested in Finnish language when I majored in linguistics. That’s how I became interested in the language糖心传媒攏ot knowing very much about the culture. I just found the language itself interesting. The grammatical system. I had studied Spanish for many years and as a linguistics major we were required to study a language outside of our native language family. And Finnish isn糖心传媒檛 an Indo-European language. So that was one of the options and I was already interested in the language, so I went for it. And then, of course, as soon as I started studying it I realized that it was going to take me years to learn, you know, like ten times as long as it took me to learn Spanish. But I ended up studying it! Well, I mean I’m still studying it after twenty years. So I did that, studying the language off and on, both at the university and on my own. And eventually started just translating kind of for fun. For instance, I had, like, bands I really liked and would translate the lyrics for my friends, things like that.

CWP: I want to assume these were Finnish death metal lyrics?

LR: No . . . Actually, I糖心传媒檓 into Finnish folk metal. Sort of neo folk metal. Anyway, at the time there wasn糖心传媒檛 an official translation program at the University of Washington where I studied. Which was kind of good actually because I ended up designing what I wanted to do and was able to sort of craft my own master’s degree. Afterwards, I went to Finland, to work as a translation intern at the Finnish Literature Exchange, also known as FILI, which is a part of the Ministry of Education and Culture. I was there for seven months and the best thing was meeting almost all of the publishers and literary agents in Finland at the time. So yeah. At that time, there was a real shortage of Finnish translators. That’s why FILI was so active in training them. So to my great surprise, as soon as I graduated, I had so much work that I’ve worked as a translator full-time ever since.

CWP: Wow. That’s amazing. What was the first book you translated?

LR: It was by Sofi Okasaen (Grove Press, 2010) which was a stroke of luck. To work on such a well-known book for your first translation really helped me in Finland糖心传媒攁nd even in English, since people looking for a Finnish translator found me, thanks to the success of that book.

*

There are two things about Lola糖心传媒檚 origin story that stand out to me: The non-haphazard haphazardness of how she fell into being a translator, and the value in having your first published translation be a pretty successful book published by a relatively large press.

I think the first point will play itself out over the rest of this book. Translators tend to end up being translators for a variety of 糖心传媒渞andom糖心传媒� reasons.

Although, are they actually 糖心传媒渞andom糖心传媒� Or even 糖心传媒渉aphazard糖心传媒�? That would assume there糖心传媒檚 a normalized path to becoming a translator, which, for better or worse, just doesn糖心传媒檛 exist. It kind of can糖心传媒檛. Sure, nowadays you can get a degree in literary translation糖心传媒攅ither to become a practitioner or an academic-theorist, but most of these programs are new, and not the pathway for the translators who paved the way for the modern era糖心传媒攂ut almost everyone just 糖心传媒渇alls into糖心传媒� translation. It might be because you were born into a multilingual family and grew up with translation as your natural state of being. Maybe you fell in love with someone from another country. You wanted to share new anime with your friends and then found out this was a profession. There are a million pathways; none of these are standardized.

Which is why actively deciding to study a language for your MA because it糖心传媒檚 interesting feels less random than most translators I糖心传媒檝e talked to! But, at the same time, the idea of almost picking a language to study at random糖心传媒攚hy not study Maori? or Latvian? or Quebecois?糖心传媒攆eels very apropos the core concept of literature in translation.

But it糖心传媒檚 the second point that interests me: How much does it matter that the first book you translate sells well? Why do publishers decide to publish Book X instead of Book Y? And why do they have Translator G translate it instead of Translator K? What percentage of this decision is based on quality? On the translator糖心传媒檚 reputation? On how much they糖心传媒檒l cost (or won糖心传媒檛)? On how well the translator糖心传媒檚 other books sold?

Tim Parks got in a lot of heat about the 糖心传媒渢ranslation community糖心传媒� about an article he wrote in which he tried to separate the success of a particular translation from the skill of the translator.

Before going on, I feel like I should define 糖心传媒渢ranslation community.糖心传媒� This is an admittedly amorphous group of maybe 300 people who have a normal amount of groupthink and tend to take stands on social media platforms about what糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒渨rong糖心传媒� or 糖心传媒渦nfair.糖心传媒� The Venn Diagram between their influence on culture and general readers buying books in translation is undefined and circumspect. The 糖心传媒渢ranslation community糖心传媒� might feel a particular review was incredibly biased and unfair using contemporary ideas in translation theory, and they might express this as publicly as they can. The average reader is unlikely to hear, much less be mentally troubled by these allegations.

Anyway, Parks called bullshit on elevating certain translators based on the sales of the translated book instead of the skill behind the translation; the translation community said that he was a dick, since his observation/critique is, at its base, devaluing the work of specific translators.

I糖心传媒檓 more interested in the structural nature of this and less into the evaluation of translators because I糖心传媒檝e spent hours and hours with editors at commercial, Big Five presses, and their evaluation of who makes a good translator is 100% infected by marketing opportunities. They openly talk about how no one pays attention to who translates a book, unless that person is a 糖心传媒渟uperstar.糖心传媒� And what makes a 糖心传媒渟uperstar糖心传媒�? The fact that a previous book they translated got enough sales and critical attention that people named the translator. Once you糖心传媒檙e known, you糖心传媒檙e on the radar for presses looking to profit off your reputation. We shouldn糖心传媒檛 be surprised by this, this is capitalism, this is Tik Tok.

*

FILI + Influence

CWP: According to PW糖心传媒檚 Translation Database, there have been 65 works of Finnish fiction published in the U.S. since 2008糖心传媒攜ou must糖心传媒檝e done a healthy proportion of them.

LR: Well, yeah, to be honest, there aren糖心传媒檛 that many Finnish translators. I know almost all of them糖心传媒攁t least electronically, and most of them in person. So, yeah, I suppose I must makeup, you know, roughly one fifth of the translation since 2008. Because there’s only a small number of titles.

*

Of the 65 works of Finnish fiction published here since 2008, 10 of them have been translated by Lola Rogers. Which is 15%. I could provide comparison points with other translator totals, but even in the absolute, being responsible for 15% of one culture糖心传媒檚 impact on another糖心传媒檚 seems pretty significant.

*

CWP: Yeah. But there has been, and I don’t know if 糖心传媒渂oom糖心传媒� is the right word, but there has been an increase in interest in Finnish literature since Purge was published. I remember when this came out. It was around the time I met Iris Schwank of FILI. This was during the London Book Fair, when I was working for Dalkey Archive Press. She told me and John O糖心传媒橞rien that FILI didn糖心传媒檛 even bother contacting American publishers anymore because it was just 糖心传媒渨asted money.糖心传媒� Nobody in America wanted to publish Finnish books so why reach out to them with marketing materials and books? And then that’s when we ended up doing Rosa Liksom糖心传媒檚 Dark Paradise. A short story collection, and her first English publication. That was the beginning of Dalkey糖心传媒檚 conversation with FILI. Now that there are a number of Finnish books coming out every year, from various publishers, FILI must feel a bit differently. Why do you think this change came about? What led to this interest in Finnish literature?

LR: Well, they were the guest of honor at the Frankfurt Book Fair in 2014 and that made a big difference. Not only were English language publishers made aware of them for the first time, but there were just so many German translations that came out at that time. Far more English publishers were able to read the books. That’s the trouble with Finnish. I mean there’s two things about Finnish. The language is unlike any language an English-language publisher has ever had contact with. None of them can read it. So they have to hire somebody to read it for them.

CWP: I糖心传媒檓 spitballing here, but maybe one of the issues with cultivating more translators from Finnish is the fact that, unlike Norwegian, Swedish, and Danish, it糖心传媒檚 not related to the other Scandinavian languages. And whereas works from those languages are translated into the other two almost immediately, Finnish literature isn糖心传媒檛. Finnish novels don糖心传媒檛 get that automatic translation糖心传媒攏either do Icelandic works糖心传媒攁nd that means that UK and U.S. presses don糖心传媒檛 hear about them as fast. But that糖心传媒檚 conflating two things: translators from Norwegian can more easily also do Swedish and Danish books, Finnish translators are relegated to Finland; and the idea that the more languages a book appears in (even if they are three sister languages), the more likely an English press will want to buy the rights.

LR: Right. And 20 or 25 years ago, there were almost no Finnish-to-English translators. There were like a couple of people bringing something out every five to ten years. That made a difference.

*

This difference is important, but let糖心传媒檚 pause for one second to talk about FILI. Organizations like the Finnish Literature Exchange (FILI) are major players in this story about international books and why they get translated.

Living in a country where our current president is trying to defund the National Endowment for the Arts on an annual basis糖心传媒攖he only national funding agency for literary arts糖心传媒攁nd has no such thing as a Ministry of Culture, these sorts of organizations might seem really foreign. But in a significant number of countries around the world, there are 糖心传媒渂ook offices糖心传媒� that allocate not insignificant sums of money to have their cultural artifacts糖心传媒攊ncluding works of literature糖心传媒攑romoted abroad. It糖心传媒檚 a basic idea: How do you know what the country of Georgia is if you糖心传媒檝e never seen/read/heard anything that Georgians created?

These (frequently) governmental organizations provide funding to translators, translator training seminars or schools, editorial visits for international publishers, promotional and touring support, the ability to host events for free in their consulates and embassies around the world, promotion to members of their various cultural and governmental audiences, and, on rare occasions, a scheme in which they purchase copies of the book published in translation to distribute to libraries around the world.

These organizations are key players in what gets translated and how it gets promoted糖心传媒攆or some presses. A commercial press doing books for commercial reasons isn糖心传媒檛 as concerned with these organizations, which can lead to semi-awkward interactions on editorial junkets. On the one side you have small nonprofits looking for the necessary $35,000 threshold of funding and probably sales to be able to do an interesting book that you want your friends and cohort and junta to read; on the other you have editors looking for the book that will sell no fewer than 25,000 copies and hopefully 100,000 minimum because of your sales machine and the appeal of the book to the average 糖心传媒渁irport糖心传媒� reader. Squint all you want; these perspectives never completely mesh.

Click here for part two.

Since Alter-Gilbert is also a critic and literary historian, this interview is chock full of semi-obscure authors and movements to pursue. (As mentioned in the preface to the interview, Will is in the process of adding links to all these authors and movements.)

This is a long, captivating interview with any number of highlights, such as the bit about John Calder:

Calder is a fascinating figure. A gentleman of the old school, he will always hold a shining place in my memory as the perfect picture of a proper British publisher, in his double-breasted navy blue blazer, with one brass button missing, stoically holding forth about toeing the line against the predations of all-encroaching barbarism. Calder authored an indispensable apologia for literary endeavor entitled The Defence of Literature, in which he asserted that writers ought to be coddled and cherished and supported in every possible way as a priceless cultural resource. Now, here are the thoughts of an enlightened individual!

And a section about Lugones and Macedonio Fernandez:

Borges was influenced by another important contemporary: the eccentric, if avuncular, philosopher manqu茅 Macedonio Fernandez who, though a fully licensed attorney, preferred to spend his days (and most of all, his nights) strumming his guitar and indulging in fanciful metaphysical speculation. A sort of offbeat eminence grise of the Pampas, Fernandez was better known for his personality than for his writing, the best of which is marked by satire and sardonic paradox. Perhaps it was Fernandez who, with his twisted humor, fostered in Borges the acerbic wit and penchant for the felicitous phrase which led him to mint such gems as “the original is unfaithful to the translation” and, when someone clumsily attempted to slight his friend Santiago Dabove by remarking that he had written only one book, Borges quipped, “Yes, but how many people have written even one?” Borges must be credited with formulating his own literary modalities, original and distinct. Despite being thoroughly steeped in the grand cosmopolitan tradition of fantastic fiction, Borges managed to fashion a body of work that is not discernibly derivative and, for the most part, is cut from whole cloth. But he didn’t spring from a vacuum . . .

His history of nineteenth-century French literary movements is great, especially since he highlights some of the lesser known, and more edgy, groups:

The gothic novel created a huge sensation in its day, and stock features of crumbling, fog-enshrouded ruins, forsaken glades, haunted castles, chain-rattling ghosts and doom-laden protagonists filled readers with dread, frenzy and hysteria; hence the term “frantic.” The Frantic School is also known as the Frenetic School. A good example in this vein is Nodier’s collection of tales and anecdotes Infernaliana. I like to think of Aloysius Bertrand, too, as a writer of this brand. Among the public-at-large, Frenetic School came to be known as one of the synonyms for the Bouzingo. The Bouzingo (sometimes called Bousingo or Bousingots, and meaning noise, racket, uproar, ruckus) were a collective of flamboyant Bohemian writers and artists probably named after the roaring boys of seventeenth century England. Forerunners of Anthony Burgess’s Droogs, the roaring boys were drunken rowdies who traveled in packs, blustering boisterously through the moonlit streets of London, roughing up passersby, ambushing maidens and generally wreaking havoc and raising Cain. Jaded, disaffected youth out on a tear, they were amoral pranksters intent on amusement at any cost.

And his diatribe against academics:

Marxist troglodytes who stalk the groves of academe have deemed that writers with religious foundations should not be taken seriously. It’s inexcusably petty to dismiss such writers out of hand merely on account of their religious proclivities. Cotton Mather is arguably more interesting to read than the majority of recent Nobel laureates and Bloy and Papini endured personal hardships and spiritual struggles that put to shame those of Augustine and St. John of the Cross and make them look like namby-pambies. The precious, hand-wringing academic mafiosi who blackball such writers are a pack of pretentious, politically-correct poltroons. Countless brilliant writers have been suppressed or, worse, ignored, simply on account of unorthodoxy.

Overall, this is — in part because of its focus on the translator as a literary historian more aware of trends and writers than most other people. It looks like some excerpts of Alter-Gilbert’s translations will be available on A Journey Round My Skull in the near future, which is also extremely valuable. Kudos to Will Schofield for such a great project.