Each chapter takes the form of someone (usually the narrator) listening to one of Trafalgar’s wild tales about some unique world or other while he pounds gallons of coffee and digresses all over the place. Like something dreamt up by Kilgore Trout, these worlds often have strange societal arrangements糖心传媒攍ike in “By the Light of the Chaste Electronic Moon,” which describes a civilization ruled by 1,000 women who retain their power in part by having sex only once a year, via a virtual reality creating machine糖心传媒攖hat illuminate something interesting about human nature. For example, here’s a bit from “Mr. Chaos,” a story about a madman Trafalgar meets on one of his journeys:

“Alei莽arga. Almost the complete opposite: little sea and lots of green. Two itty-bitty seas at the poles and another larger one close to the equator. It rains a lot, the rest is fertile ground, and the cities are disgusting.”

“Big, dirty, with smoke and drugs and loudspeakers.”

“Not so fast. Small cities because they, and they’re not the only ones, seem to have figured out what we are just learning; very clean, without smoke, don’t even think about drugs, and a few loudspeakers but they’re not bothersome.”

“Then they’re quite nice. I don’t know why you say they’re disgusting.”

“They are too well organized.”

“So far as I know, that is not a defect.”

“You, being Madam Organization; but when a whole city and all of the cities and everything is like an enormous and efficient company presided over by a narrow gauge logic where the effects always follow the causes and the causes march along single file and the dodo birds don’t worry about anything nor are they surprised by anything and they slither along beside you faintly pleased, I—like any normal person—feel a great desire to kill someone or commit suicide.”

Although these stories do, in a way, build on one another and are all tied together at the very end, the real pleasure of this book is in mulling over the philosophical and social underpinnings of the various worlds Gorodischer/Trafalgar describe. They’re like little gems that are fun to think about, and, for the most part, are explained in an entertaining fashion given Trafalgar’s roundabout way of telling his stories, and the sort of interplay with his various interlocutors.

That said, this set-up—a collection of stories told exclusively through dialogues—presents a lot of translation challenges, some of which Amalia Gladhart solved admirably, and some of which bog down the text.

The thing is, for a dialogue-driven book to work right, the dialogue has to always sound right. If it’s clunky, awkward, or tonally inconsistent, the whole illusion falls apart and the narrative feels very strained and stilted. This can happen when the writer/translator choose uncommon slang (“you’re going to end up in the slammer“), or have stilted word combinations (“I hope you haven’t contracted an exquisite inclination for fragile youths with smooth skin and green eyes”), or wordplay that doesn’t necessarily carry over from one culture to another (“Fernando had a tic and opened and closed his eyes every five seconds. If he’d been one of the boys at the cafe, they’d have called him Neon Sign, bet on it”). On a more subtle level, the use of contractions—or the decision not to use them at certain points—helps to replicated the cadence and rhythms of speech on the written page.

In terms of the examples above, I think these oddities are a combination of Gorodischer’s desire to create a verbally quirky character, and Gladhart’s attempt to bring that quirkiness into English. Sometimes it works—especially when describing one of the imaginary worlds—other times it falls flat.

I had a much bigger problem with the high number of grammatically questionable, extremely knotty, sentences in this book. Here are a few quick examples:

It was the translation she had dreamt and that, upon waking, she had rushed to record she didn’t know why since she was still convinced it was nothing but a nightmare;

The only problem was that there was a performance only seldom;

Every time Fina goes to Salta to visit their daughter and the grandchildren, and fortunately she goes often enough that he does not fall completely silent, Cirito stop going to the Jockey Club and that is when a few friends of the kind who correctly interpret the signs go to the cold, dry house and play poker in the dining room.

But as I mentioned above, I don’t think you read this book for the prose style—it’s more for the playfulness of the ideas, the self-referential games (Kalpa Imperial is referenced in the final story), and the pleasure of seeing such a robust imagination at work.

It’ll be interesting to see if more of Gorodischer’s books come out in the future. Both Kalpa Imperial and Trafalgar are from the late-70s/early-80s, and I’m personally curious to see how her more recent titles measure up.

Here’s the beginning of Chad’s review:

The author of more than twenty works of science fiction糖心传媒攂oth story collections and novels糖心传媒擜ng茅lica Gorodischer was first introduced to English readers in 2003 with Kalpa Imperial: The Greatest Empire That Never Was, a patchwork novel that uses a variety of writing styles糖心传媒攆airy tales, oral histories, and political commentaries, among others糖心传媒攖o depict the rise and fall of a nameless empire. Although Trafalgar works in the opposite direction糖心传媒攖his book is a collection of intertwined stories wherein Trafalgar, merchant to all parts of the universe, tells stories about a cornucopia of strange worlds that he visits in his travels糖心传媒攖he same literary touchstones are there: Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities, Kurt Vonnegut, Philip K. Dick. And although Trafalgar fails to surpass the best works of its literary forebearers, it is a really charming book that highlights Gorodischer’s incredible world-building abilities.

Each chapter takes the form of someone (usually the narrator) listening to one of Trafalgar’s wild tales about some unique world or other while he pounds gallons of coffee and digresses all over the place. Like something dreamt up by Kilgore Trout, these worlds often have strange societal arrangements糖心传媒攍ike in “By the Light of the Chaste Electronic Moon,” which describes a civilization ruled by 1,000 women who retain their power in part by having sex only once a year, via a virtual reality creating machine糖心传媒攖hat illuminate something interesting about human nature.

For the rest of the review, go here.

Here’s the description from Small Beer’s website:

This huge anthology of more than thirty all-original Mexican science fiction and fantasy features ghost stories, supernatural folktales, alien incursions, and apocalyptic narratives, as well as science-based chronicles of highly unusual mental states in which the borders of fantasy and reality reach unprecedented levels of ambiguity. Stereotypes of Mexican identity are explored and transcended by the thoroughly cosmopolitan consciousnesses underlying these works. It is a landmark of contemporary North American fiction that deserves a wide readership.

And we actually ran a review of this by Sara Cohen back near Halloween. (Too fitting, no?) Here’s what she had to say about the two stories that you can read

糖心传媒淧hotophobia,糖心传媒� by Mauricio Monteil Figueiras.

You can tell from the start that 糖心传媒淧hotophobia糖心传媒� is more sophisticated than most stories in this collection糖心传媒攖he vocabulary is complex, the concept unquestionably cerebral. An apocalyptic narrative is told through stream-of-consciousness storytelling that cleverly distracts from the story糖心传媒檚 premise until the ending begins to shed some light on the narrator糖心传媒檚 purpose and motives. The tale stands out in this populist collection of stories like a sore thumb, but I糖心传媒檓 glad it was included. Here is a typical (and excellent) sentence:

“Eternity, he thought, pocket apocalypses: man has not learned the lessons of history, he is still the ignorant student who recorded his confusion in the caves of Altamira糖心传媒攊t糖心传媒檚 just that the caves have become tabloids.”

糖心传媒淭he Drop糖心传媒� by Claudia Guill茅n.

In 糖心传媒淭he Drop,糖心传媒� a depressed young woman refuses to leave her room, watching drops of water fall to the floor. Her mother (the stated villain of the piece) claims that if the dripping stops, her child will die. A visiting doctor learns about himself as he studies the girl. That糖心传媒檚 it, the entire premise. But the story is well-told, the ending surprising, and it糖心传媒檚 the kind of eerie tale that sticks with you.

Again, for the complete preview, and click here for Sara’s review. And then, if you like what you read,

All of the past RTN featured titles can be

Edward Gauvin is simply awesome. I first met him when he was working at the Actually, that’s not exactly accurate. I first corresponded with him when he was at the FPA, but I first met him in person when he was visiting Rochester. See? People do visit Rochester. Edward’s actually been up here twice (at least), including last fall when he was here to participate in a Reading the World Conversation Series roundtable with Michael Emmerich, Martha Tennent, and Marian Schwartz. (Click here to watch the video of the event—it really was one of the best RTWCS events to date.)

One of the things I really like about Edward is his broad literary interests. Sure, he’s well versed in the Oulipo, in all facets of “high art,” but he also knows a shitload about international science fiction and translates a lot of graphic novels for First Second Books. (Another reason to love Edward—and this isn’t an intentional attempt to bury the lead—is just how much he knows about international comics. It looks like I’m going to help put together a series of events at the next New York ComicCon related to international graphic novels, and along with Douglas Wolk and Laurel Maury, Edward’s one of my go-to people for info on who/what I should know about.)

Edward was also an ALTA fellow a few years back, and has since had a residency at the and found a publisher for his first book-length prose translation (the beginning of which won him the fellowship . . . I think).

Anyway, to the questions:

Favorite Word in Any Language: “Indefferer” to be indifferent to as in “cela m’indiffere,” which is equivalent to “that leaves me cold.” “Thesauriser” (or “to amass”) comes a close second.

To amass something with complete indifference . . . sounds like b-school speak.

Best Translation You’ve Done to Date: has to be my labor of love to date and first book-length prose fiction translation: A Life on Paper, the selected stories of Georges-Olivier Ch芒teaureynaud

Small Beer Press will be publishing this in May, and more info can be found Before linking to some of the online excerpts, here’s the jacket copy, which is sure to get more than a few people interested:

In many ways, Ch芒teaureynaud is France糖心传媒檚 own Kurt Vonnegut, and his stories are as familiar as they are fantastic. A Life on Paper presents characters who struggle to communicate across the boundaries of the living and the dead, the past and the present, the real and the more-than-real. A young husband struggles with self-doubt and an ungainly set of angel wings in 糖心传媒淚carus Saved from the Skies,糖心传媒� even as his wife encourages him to embrace his transformation. In the title story, a father糖心传媒檚 obsession with his daughter leads him to keep her life captured in 93,284 unchanging photographs. While Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 stories examine the diffidence and cruelty we are sometimes capable of, they also highlight the humanity in the strangest of us and our deep appreciation for the mysterious.

Sounds like something we’ll definitely be looking at for the 2011 Best Translated Book Award . . .

But if you can’t wait until May, there are a couple Ch芒teaureynaud pieces available online: appeared in Words Without Borders, and in the Brooklyn Rail.

Most Difficult Translation You’ve Ever Done: “The Red Loaf” by Pieyre de Mandiargues. He’s another mid-century fantastical writer. His Goncourt-winning novel The Margin was translated by Richard Howard (as were a number of others through Grove, and Boyars), and his sadistically decadent The Englishman in His Ch芒teau was recently published by Dedalus Press, in their notable European fantasy line. None of his many short stories have yet appeared in English.

This is sort of a bonus question from Edward since most translators either answered the “best translation you’ve done” or “most difficult.” But what the hell, Mandiargues sounds pretty interesting as well . . .

What Book Needs to Be Published in Translation: the stories of Noel Devaulx

As Edward mentioned in an e-mail to me, there’s not a ton of info on Devaulx available online, but there is a more academic article by Mark Temmer entitled “Noel Devaulx: His Fantasies and Allegories” that has a nice provocative opening:

Noel Devaulx writes as much to be misunderstood as to be understood. The resolution of the paradox lies in the nature of irony, which displays ignorance or weakness to further its own ends. It must be confessed, however, that such stratagems do not always succeed; initial defeats may be too great or adversaries too dull. And lest so much subtlety go to waste, it seems worth while to renounce human encounters in favor of anonymous readers on whose part one may suppose intelligence and sympathy.

More relevant to this post is as part of the Quarterly Conversation series:

No毛l Devaulx is the secret master of the 20th century French fantastique. His prose has the shimmer of M茅rim茅e and the seemliness of Flaubert; clearly, he keeps Nerval by his bedside, the better to read it by the light of a Baudelairean lunacy. In his hands, the Kunstm盲rchen糖心传媒攏ine collections糖心传媒� worth, over nine decades糖心传媒攊s reinvented as the vessel of a personal metaphysics; evident in every one is his mandarin mastery of narration. Jean Paulhan, an early champion, famously called his hermetic, exquisite tales, oft-featured in the NRF, 糖心传媒減arables without keys糖心传媒�: spellbinding, even when perfectly obscure, for the secret to his prose is promise. Some enticing deferral of revelation extends past his final lines, into silence. [. . .] Many of Devaulx糖心传媒檚 tales are haunted by death and madness, but Sainte Barbegrise reads like a virgin spring, or a breeze from a summer kingdom. It belongs, for its humor, for its merry invention, for its skillful use of marvel, on a shelf with Little, Big, At-Swim-Two-Birds, or The Complete Tales of Ketzia Gold.

Click here to read the rest of the posts in the “Making the Translator Visible” series.

If anything, it just seems like the people editing Three Messages forgot to pay attention糖心传媒攈ow else would a poem (and a mediocre poem at that) find its way into a book of short stories? How else would so many mediocre stories make the cut? Overall, the thirty-four 糖心传媒渟tories糖心传媒� in Three Messages provide a study in quantity over quality, a survey of Mexican literature that does little credit to Mexican authors. However, whether by purpose or chance, there are some diamonds in the rough, tales with original voices and surprising endings, the kind of stories you find yourself telling your friends about later. Rather than leaving you to sort through the entire collection (or skip it entirely) I糖心传媒檒l offer you what, in my opinion, are the highlights. The stories sort themselves into three categories:

Category One: The Very Good.

1. 糖心传媒淭he President without Organs糖心传媒� by Pepe Rojo.

In retrospect, this story captures exactly what I was hoping to find in Three Messages: an imaginative subject explored by an expert storyteller. The story unfolds through a series of press releases detailing the various surgeries the President undergoes in order to cure his increasingly bizarre illnesses, as well as mini-narratives about citizens reacting to the news. Witty and controversial, the story is a hilarious parody of the roles of citizens, government officials and the media in religious and political systems. Then again, I糖心传媒檓 bound to love any story that contains a section that reads only, 糖心传媒淣ATIONAL TIME–OUT DAY.糖心传媒�

2. 糖心传媒淧hotophobia,糖心传媒� by Mauricio Monteil Figueiras.

You can tell from the start that 糖心传媒淧hotophobia糖心传媒� is more sophisticated than most stories in this collection糖心传媒攖he vocabulary is complex, the concept unquestionably cerebral. An apocalyptic narrative is told through stream-of-consciousness storytelling that cleverly distracts from the story糖心传媒檚 premise until the ending begins to shed some light on the narrator糖心传媒檚 purpose and motives. The tale stands out in this populist collection of stories like a sore thumb, but I糖心传媒檓 glad it was included. Here is a typical (and excellent) sentence:

Eternity, he thought, pocket apocalypses: man has not learned the lessons of history, he is still the ignorant student who recorded his confusion in the caves of Altamira糖心传媒攊t糖心传媒檚 just that the caves have become tabloids.

3. 糖心传媒淣ereid Future,糖心传媒� by Gabriela Dami谩n Miravete.

Imagine a modern, Mexican version of Margaret Oliphant糖心传媒檚 short story from 1869, and you糖心传媒檒l arrive at 糖心传媒淣ereid Future.糖心传媒� The story, told in the second person, is about a girl who falls in love with a long-dead author through his books. The narrative gets increasingly meta as the girl begins to believe that the author loves her back. Intertextuality and female identity earn the spotlight in this short story, which contains one of those perfect endings where you should have seen it coming from the start, but still catches you by surprise.

4. 糖心传媒淭he Drop糖心传媒� by Claudia Guill茅n.

In 糖心传媒淭he Drop,糖心传媒� a depressed young woman refuses to leave her room, watching drops of water fall to the floor. Her mother (the stated villain of the piece) claims that if the dripping stops, her child will die. A visiting doctor learns about himself as he studies the girl. That糖心传媒檚 it, the entire premise. But the story is well-told, the ending surprising, and it糖心传媒檚 the kind of eerie tale that sticks with you.

5. 糖心传媒淰ariations on a Theme by Coleridge,糖心传媒� by Alberto Chimal.

Three Messages includes plenty of short-short stories; this is my favorite example, a page-and-a-half-long gem. It begins, 糖心传媒淚 got a call. It was me, calling from a phone I lost the year before. I asked myself where I had found the phone. I answered myself that it was in such and such cafeteria that I couldn糖心传媒檛 remember anymore.糖心传媒� The story gets increasingly meta and hilarious, drawing its premise from the capabilities of modern technology, its humor from repetition and its pathos from the ways we judge ourselves.

Other favorites: 糖心传媒淟ions糖心传媒� by Bernardo Fern谩ndez, 糖心传媒淲ittigenstein’s Umbrella糖心传媒� by 脫scar de la Borbolla, 糖心传媒淢r. Strogoff糖心传媒� by Guillermo Samperio.

Category Two: The Mediocre.

Most of the book falls into this category: stories that build up but go nowhere (糖心传媒淭he Guest糖心传媒�); stories that you swear you糖心传媒檝e read before (糖心传媒淭hree Messages and a Warning in the Same E-mail糖心传媒�); stories with one original gimmick, a clever premise or punch line that amuses without earning long-term appreciation (糖心传媒淎 Pile of Bland Desserts糖心传媒�, 糖心传媒淲olves糖心传媒�); even a few pieces that don糖心传媒檛 fully cross the cultural divide (糖心传媒淭he Nahual Offering糖心传媒�).

These are not awful stories. I enjoyed reading some of them. But when I forget they existed in a week or two, I won糖心传媒檛 feel the loss.

Category Three: The Ugly.

In my opinion the worst of the collection (besides that very random poem, 糖心传媒淢annequin糖心传媒�) are the stories that are unbearably trite, the stories that fit a shallow American understanding of Mexican culture to a T. I糖心传媒檓 speaking mostly of the first story in the collection, 糖心传媒淭oday, You Walk Along a Narrow Path,糖心传媒� a tale about D铆a de los Muertos with the most predictable 糖心传媒渟urprise糖心传媒� ending in the entire book. There are others that fit this category, of course . . . but the line between 糖心传媒渕ediocre糖心传媒� and 糖心传媒渦gly糖心传媒� seems awfully thin in my mind, so I think I糖心传媒檒l let future readers sort out those stories on their own.

Sara “Number Four” Cohen was one of our summer interns, who attends the University of Rochester where she’s majoring in English and singing lots of showtunes.

She wasn’t a huge fan of this collection as a whole, but there were a number of pieces that she really enjoyed. Here’s the opening of her review, along with one example of the “Very Good” stories included:

If nothing else, Three Messages and a Warning proves that anthology editors hold far more power than the individual authors. The problem is not so much that Three Messages fails to offer any excellent Mexican 糖心传媒渟tories of the fantastic,糖心传媒� but that those tales are few and poorly placed within the book as a whole. For example, a number of above-average stories are clustered toward the end of the book, so that anyone prone to reading anthologies chronologically will be tempted to give up reading before they find gold.

If anything, it just seems like the people editing Three Messages forgot to pay attention糖心传媒攈ow else would a poem (and a mediocre poem at that) find its way into a book of short stories? How else would so many mediocre stories make the cut? Overall, the thirty-four 糖心传媒渟tories糖心传媒� in Three Messages provide a study in quantity over quality, a survey of Mexican literature that does little credit to Mexican authors. However, whether by purpose or chance, there are some diamonds in the rough, tales with original voices and surprising endings, the kind of stories you find yourself telling your friends about later. Rather than leaving you to sort through the entire collection (or skip it entirely) I糖心传媒檒l offer you what, in my opinion, are the highlights. The stories sort themselves into three categories:

Category One: The Very Good.

1. 糖心传媒淭he President without Organs糖心传媒� by Pepe Rojo.

In retrospect, this story captures exactly what I was hoping to find in Three Messages: an imaginative subject explored by an expert storyteller. The story unfolds through a series of press releases detailing the various surgeries the President undergoes in order to cure his increasingly bizarre illnesses, as well as mini-narratives about citizens reacting to the news. Witty and controversial, the story is a hilarious parody of the roles of citizens, government officials and the media in religious and political systems. Then again, I糖心传媒檓 bound to love any story that contains a section that reads only, 糖心传媒淣ATIONAL TIME–OUT DAY.糖心传媒�

Click here to read the full review.

A Life on Paper: Stories , translated by Edward Gauvin and published by Small Beer Press, was also a finalist for the and is the author糖心传媒檚 first book to be published in English, containing twenty-three stories and a foreword by Brian Evenson. Selections of these stories have been printed in Words Without Borders, Joyland, the Harvard Review, and Agni. The awards were given to the winners at the 2011 Eurocon in Stockholm.

The complete lists of winners and honorable mentions are:

Long Form Winner

A Life on Paper: Stories, Georges-Olivier Ch芒teaureynaud, translated by Edward Gauvin (Small Beer Press). Original publication in French (1976卢-2005).

Long Form Honorable Mention

The Golden Age, Michal Ajvaz, translated by Andrew Oakland (Dalkey Archive Press). Original publication in Czech as Zlat媒 V?k (2001).

Short Form Winner

糖心传媒淓legy for a Young Elk糖心传媒�, Hannu Rajaniemi, translated by Hannu Rajaniemi (Subterranean Online, Spring 2010). Original publication in Finnish (Portti, 2007).

Short Form Honorable Mention

糖心传媒淲agtail糖心传媒�, Marketta Niemel盲, translated by Liisa Rantalaiho (Usva International 2010, ed. Anne Leinonen). Original publication in Finnish as 糖心传媒淰盲st盲r盲kki糖心传媒� (Usva (The Mist), 2008).

For the full award announcement with commentary from the winners click

To see the Three Percent blog on the Best Translated Book Award click here.

For the Three Percent Review on A Life on Paper: Stories click here.

There are no consequential clashes in Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 stories, nor heroic exploits. These are Everyman stories, brushes of ordinary individuals with forces beyond their control and explanation. Protagonists may be shaken, inspired, perplexed, and disturbed by these encounters, but they are rarely surprised. This is one of the distinguishing and most enjoyable marks of Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 prose糖心传媒攊n a recurring device akin to magical realism, the author abruptly introduces a maverick element into an otherwise banal scenario, but the arrival of this supernatural intervention is accommodated by characters without much shock or disbelief. In 糖心传媒淟a T锚te,糖心传媒� a doctor is visited by a patient who carries a still-cognizant talking head around in a sack. The physician糖心传媒檚 reaction exemplifies Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 approach to such bizarre events:

The free play of its functions . . . was considerably impaired. But the simple fact that these manifested themselves at all flew in the face of what the entire medical establishment took for granted. That said, I am a progressive and an optimist; if it糖心传媒檚 proven tomorrow that babies will henceforth be born from their mothers糖心传媒� ears, that糖心传媒檚 where I糖心传媒檒l await them. The decapitated head spoke? So be it!

Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 characters remain similarly unflappable under a whole host of remarkable and surreal circumstances. In 糖心传媒淚carus Saved from the Skies,糖心传媒� a man develops miniature feathered wings, but refuses any attempts at flight, much to the chagrin of his proud wife. In 糖心传媒淭he Only Mortal,糖心传媒� a tryst with a forest-dwelling seductress causes an indelible (and distressing) message to appear on a young soldier糖心传媒檚 skin. In 糖心传媒淭he Guardicci Masterpiece,糖心传媒� a woman must compete with a crooning, reanimated adolescent mummy for her lover糖心传媒檚 attention. The extraordinary crops up spontaneously in people糖心传媒檚 lives, occasionally wreaking permanent alteration, but more often than not simply fading away just as unceremoniously as it came.

In other stories, magic is confined to the peripheries, seeming to exist solely in a single character糖心传媒檚 perception of a tragic or painful situation. In these, Ch芒teaureynaud compellingly plays with the fine line between imagination and delusion, with the power and isolation inherent to subjectivity, and with the endlessly creative narratives we weave for ourselves in order to better cope with loss. In a few cases, these boundaries completely break down; Ch芒teaureynaud denies characters the chance to raise rosy justifications around their peculiar behaviors, and instead exposes them for what they are: absurd, unsettling, even mad. In the titular story, a man bereft at the death of his wife resolves to oppose 糖心传媒渢ime糖心传媒檚 acid tides糖心传媒� by photographing his daughter at systematic intervals. By the time she hits 20, he has catalogued over 93,200 images of her life, and not without doing considerable damage to the girl糖心传媒檚 psychology. The border between fantasy and obsession in these stories is never fixed, and some of the humans in Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 fiction rival his ghosts, goblins, and spooks in their ability to make a reader shiver.

Perhaps it is for that reason that some of the most successful stories in this collection糖心传媒攁 sampling chosen from other 30 years of Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 work糖心传媒攆ocus not on the mysteries of the supernatural, which the author never seeks to rationalize, but on the intricacies of his human subjects. Whether taken metaphorically or literally, the vignettes in which mystical interludes catalyze or coincide with poignant emotional development in lead protagonists are some of Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 richest and most memorable.

Another interesting aspect of Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 work is its flexibility with time and setting. In the 22 stories included in A Life on Paper: Stories, backdrops range from the medieval to the contemporary, with segments located in urban as well as remote country landscapes. Ch芒teaureynaud moves easily between specific historical moments and more transcendent locales, demonstrating his ability to craft stories that are both timely and timeless. The context of World War II is of direct importance to 糖心传媒淭he Gulf of the Years,糖心传媒� for instance, while 糖心传媒淪weet Street糖心传媒� and 糖心传媒淭he Peacocks糖心传媒� could happen any time.

Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 prose is even and smooth, so tranquil at times it is almost hypnotic. Edward Gauvin糖心传媒檚 translation pays careful attention to switches in tone and dialect, maintaining the discrepancy between the author糖心传媒檚 own voice and those of his more casual characters. In addition to the stories available here, Ch芒teaureynaud has penned nearly one hundred more, as well as eleven novels, two for young adults. An established figure in France, and an active member of several organizations that recognize literary excellence, Ch芒teaureynaud has already seen his work translated into fourteen other languages. A Life on Paper: Stories will certainly be a welcome addition to many English-speakers糖心传媒� libraries.

Catherine Bailey is an English grad student here at the University of Rochester. (Or maybe was . . . I think she just graduated. And if so, congrats!) She reviewed Alina Bronsky’s Broken Glass Park for us last fall.

Chateaureynaud’s A Life on Paper: Stories is absolutely brilliant. It was also a finalist for this year’s Best Translated Book Award and is translated by one of the coolest & smartest translators out there. Edward has quite a fanbase . . . If you listen carefully to the video of the BTBA Award Ceremony you will hear a screams of support from the audience when his name is read.

Here’s the opening of Catherine’s review:

In reading this marvelous selection of Georges-Olivier Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 short fiction, I could not help but reminisce about childhood nights spent huddled near a campfire, seated at the feet of an elder and listening, enraptured, to ghost stories. Like those master storytellers whose haunting tales were exaggerated by the play of their hands over the flame, Ch芒teaureynaud makes expert thematic use of both light and shadow to reveal his fantastical realms of wonder and fear. His unassuming prose startles as it entrances, holding readers on the edge of elegantly rendered, fantastical dream-worlds while all at once alluding to their more nightmarish qualities. In the style of Kafka and Poe, Ch芒teaureynaud makes the supernatural seem not only present, but ubiquitous, inclined to encroach at any moment on the humdrum lives of unsuspecting mortals. More sinister than fairy tales, yet not quite definable as horror stories, Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 whimsical writings leave one unsettled and alert, appreciating anew the possibilities of the chilly night air while simultaneously feeling the urge to draw nearer to the fire糖心传媒攋ust in case.

There are no consequential clashes in Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 stories, nor heroic exploits. These are Everyman stories, brushes of ordinary individuals with forces beyond their control and explanation. Protagonists may be shaken, inspired, perplexed, and disturbed by these encounters, but they are rarely surprised. This is one of the distinguishing and most enjoyable marks of Ch芒teaureynaud糖心传媒檚 prose糖心传媒攊n a recurring device akin to magical realism, the author abruptly introduces a maverick element into an otherwise banal scenario, but the arrival of this supernatural intervention is accommodated by characters without much shock or disbelief. In 糖心传媒淟a T锚te,糖心传媒� a doctor is visited by a patient who carries a still-cognizant talking head around in a sack. More

Click here to read the entire piece.

First up is Georges-Olivier Ch芒teaureynaud’s A Life on Paper, which just received a very enthusiastic write-up over at

Before the Best Translated Book Award put Georges-Olivier Ch芒teaureynard糖心传媒檚 A Life on Paper on its longlist (and now it糖心传媒檚 a finalist), I had never heard of this French author, despite his long career (not that this surprises me). I hope to get to know his work much better, though that will require a lot of work from translators. So far, from my slight research online, A Life on Paper (tr. from the French by Edward Gauvin, 2010) is the only work of his to find its way to English. Thanks to Small Beer Press for bringing this one to our attention, and hopefully Edward Gauvin is working on some of Ch芒teaureynard糖心传媒檚 novels.

A Life on Paperis a collection of more than twenty short stories compiled from several collections Ch芒teaureynard has published over a thirty-year period. Most of the story are very short indeed. I can糖心传媒檛 emphasize this enough: it was a delight to read one or two a day over a month. While writing this review I was often reading a passage to quote and found myself still reading after a few pages.

Categorizing Ch芒teaureynaud seems futile. He糖心传媒檚 called a fabulist, but I think this is too limiting; frankly, some of his stories seem to be written just for the fun of it, with no metaphorical intent whatsoever. I would say he糖心传媒檚 like Kafka 糖心传媒� the bizarre happens in an every-day setting and the characters keep acting like it糖心传媒檚 completely sane 糖心传媒� only his tone is quite different, reminding me more of Melville糖心传媒檚 story-telling style. Well, there糖心传媒檚 no reason to categorize him, and I hope some passages from his stories will give a better sense of whether you糖心传媒檇 enjoy this collection.

He goes on to quote from a few of the stories, including the titular story, which opens with

The Siegling-Brunet collection no doubt constitutes the most extensive gathering of photographs devoted to a single person. Kathrin Laetitia Siegling was born in London on January 12, 1939. On April 14, 1960, she died in Amiens, where she had moved with her husband Fran莽ois Brunet. She lived, then, some 7,750 days, during which, at the rate of some dozen shots every twenty-four hours, her picture was taken 93,284 times. To the best of my knowledge, the negatives were never preserved, but the 93,284 prints were.

and ends up focusing on Kathrin’s obsessive father, who took all 93,284 pictures.

Ch芒teaureynaud’s stories truly are a delight, and I really hope Edward Gauvin is translating more of his work . . .