{"id":307736,"date":"2018-02-06T15:30:00","date_gmt":"2018-02-06T15:30:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.wdev.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent-dev\/2018\/02\/06\/the-translation-industry-is-frozen\/"},"modified":"2018-07-21T10:47:13","modified_gmt":"2018-07-21T14:47:13","slug":"the-translation-industry-is-frozen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/2018\/02\/06\/the-translation-industry-is-frozen\/","title":{"rendered":"The Translation Industry Is Frozen"},"content":{"rendered":"
Before getting into the February translations, data on what’s being published (or not being published), and all the random stuff, I wanted to point out a few modifications to the Translation Database at Publishers Weekly<\/em><\/a> that were recently implemented. <\/p>\n First off, when you’re entering a title, you can now choose “Male,” “Female,” “Both” (for books with multiple authors or translators of different genders), or “Undisclosed.” I know there are lots of other options that could\/should be included, but for now, this seemed like the best way of giving non-binary authors and translators a different option while ensuring that the data going forward is compatible with what’s been collected over the past ten years. <\/p>\n Also, if you want to change your gender on your listings—or update a pub date, correct a typo, etc.—on that same form<\/a> you can click “correction to the database,” which will let me know that this isn’t a new\/duplicate entry, but a signal that there’s something wrong in the existing record.<\/p>\n Finally, for all us Excel nerds, you can now get the “tab delimited” data for any search that you make. Just enter in your criteria and click the link at the top—right next to the newly added line indicating how many<\/em> titles fit your criteria. Once you have the “tab delimited” listings up, highlight and copy all the information and then choose “paste special” in Excel and select “text” and you’ll instantly have a sortable database with ALL<\/span> the information for the individual records. Magic! <\/p>\n And please keep entering your titles! I really want to bulk up the children’s and nonfiction sections, and although I have plans on how to do this in a more systematic way, I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that before the summer break. <\/p>\n OK, on to the February data!<\/p>\n Everything Still Sucks, or, When Are We Renaming the Blog 1%<\/em>?<\/b><\/p>\n Remember last month<\/a> when it seemed like all the translations had vanished? And when I postulated that it was probably just a small sample size and things would all even out? It’s one month later, the sample size is still small, and there’s still hope for the future, but man, this is disconcerting.<\/p>\n Just like last month, it’s possible I’m missing some titles, but I spent almost all day tracking down books, including looking into a bunch of presses that brought out translations in 2017, but nothing this year, and still, at the end of the day, there are only 28 works of fiction and poetry in the database for February 2018, compared to 51 last year. That’s an INSANE<\/span> drop off. <\/p>\n In the first two months of 2017, 100 works of fiction and poetry in translation were published in the U.S. for the first time, compared to only 59 this year. I would still bet that by the end of the year, this will normalize—I’ll find a stash of missing poetry titles along with a few new presses that were off my radar—but if it doesn’t . . . that’s huge. Over the past decade there’s been a huge growth in the number of translated titles (367 in 2008, 620 in 2017), membership in ALTA<\/span> has increased (or at least attendance at the annual conference), there are more university-based translation programs, more awards for translation . . . and yet. <\/p>\n There’s a dark possibility at play here . . . I don’t want to even type it up, but it is probably the simplest explanation: sales of translations aren’t good enough to sustain this level of publication. It doesn’t take that many failures to put the smaller presses out of business or convince the biggest ones that there’s no need to continue with this money-losing enterprise. Instead of being a subsection of publishing with linear growth, maybe translation publishing is more cyclical . . . After hitting a peak in 2016 (653 titles), the industry will contract, and in a handful of years, when we’re back to a handful of presses doing the vast majority of translations, we’ll crank up the grant rhetoric about how isolated American readers are and everything will start over again. Translations will be “cool,” everyone will start doing them, we’ll break the 2016 mark, etc. Or I’m 100% wrong. Hopefully that.<\/p>\n Abrupt Mutations<\/em><\/a> by Enrique Luis Revol, translated from the Spanish by Priscilla Hunter (Dalkey Archive Press)<\/b><\/p>\n I would love<\/em> to read this book and write about it for my weekly column, but what are the odds that this book actually comes out this month? Maybe 25%? <\/p>\n This probably isn’t something the average reader notices, but over the past few years, Dalkey’s catalog has come to resemble the annual Williams-Sonoma holiday catalog—a bunch of cool looking shit that you’ll never actually own. <\/p>\n Let me put this in perspective: I spent an hour today correcting the pub dates for their books in the database. By “correcting,” I mean changing listings for books that were supposed to come out in 2017, but are now scheduled for November of this year. Like Warning to the Crocodiles<\/em> by one of my all time favorite authors, Antonio Lobo Antunes. Not even exaggerating when I say I’ve been waiting for this book to come out for two-and-a-half years. The translator, Rhett McNeil, talked to me about it back when MLA<\/span> was in Austin in 2016 and, unless I’m totally mistaken, the book’s publication was imminent at that point. And although the Dalkey website<\/a> lists a May 2017 pub date, Ingram lists a December 2018 release date, and Amazon comes up with “Your search ‘9781943150137’ did not match any products.” By the time this is finally published, I’ll probably have given up on reading.<\/p>\n Although it doesn’t explain everything<\/em>, Dalkey’s delays (similar to those for Hispabooks, which is still in business, question mark?) do screw with the data quite a bit. When the Translation Database went from my computer to Publisher Weekly<\/em>’s website, we had data on 37 titles that Dalkey “published” in 2017. There were even more titles announced, but those were shifted to 2018 before exporting all this data. That’s now slipped to 32, not a huge difference, but way down from the 42 titles they published in 2016. I don’t know how they manage to do so many books to begin with, but for the sake of my interest in reading so many of them, I really wish more of them came out on time. <\/p>\n But the bigger point: The numbers cited mid-year might be inflated due to small presses announcing books that are then delayed. And delayed. And delayed.<\/p>\n The Right Intention<\/em><\/a> by Andr\u00e9s Barba, translated from the Spanish by Lisa Dillman (Transit Books)<\/b><\/p>\n Going back to data for a minute: Spanish was the most translated language this month. With five<\/em> titles. (In February 2017, French had 7 titles, and Spanish 6. How are there only 3 French books this month? Weird.) What’s more interesting is that there are 3 Norwegian books (including two titles in Jens Bjorneboe’s “History of Bestiality” trilogy . . . which . . . I’ll just leave that there like that) and 1 Latvian book! Go Latvia! I assume that 30 Questions People Don’t Ask<\/em> by Inga Gaile, translated by Ieva Le\u0161inska is part of the build-up to being guest of honor at the London Book Fair. Definitely.<\/p>\n (Kaija—worried that I was making fun of Latvia while writing this—just informed me that there are “something like forty” Latvian books coming out from UK presses across 2017 and 2018, since that’s where the government has been putting its efforts and money. So far, this poetry collection is the only<\/em> one scheduled to come out in the U.S. This ties into something I want to write at some point in time about how most publishers of translations in the U.S. are buying rights from the UK and not originating the translation. Open Letter’s never done that [okay maybe once], because we’re JOB<\/span> CREATORS<\/span>.)<\/p>\n This past week, I used Such Small Hands<\/em> by Barba in my World Lit & Translation class and my students had the opportunity to talk with Lisa Dillman, who is definitely one of the best Spanish translators working today. During our conversation, I told her about my probable misreading of part of this novel. For those who read it, you may remember that in the middle, Marina tells the girls at the orphanage about how she’s been to Disneyland in Paris, how she’s already seen all the movies that they watch on their weekly movie nights, etc. When I first read this, I assumed that she was lying—like my kids would, like most kids would—as a way of getting back at them for making her an outsider. Lisa said that no one<\/em> had ever mentioned a reading like this before—because why would they? this is crazy talk—but that it might well tie into the earlier bit in which Marina is given the doll and claims that the doll is the “only one who doesn’t lie” . . . Sometimes I feel like I’m totally stoned while I’m reading.<\/p>\n Hotel Silence<\/em><\/a> by Au\u00f0ur Ava \u00d3lafsd\u00f3ttir, translated from the Icelandic by [Not Listed on Grove Website] (Black Cat)<\/b><\/p>\n The translator is Brian FitzGibbon. See, Grove, that wasn’t so bad! <\/p>\n Also, AmazonCrossing was the first to publish Au\u00f0ur Ava \u00d3lafsd\u00f3ttir. They did The Greenhouse<\/em> back in 2011. It’s definitely worth checking out. Iceland rules. <\/p>\n I kind of want to leave things there, but this was the placeholder I was using in my mind to try and talk about how incredibly odd<\/em> Memphis was during ABA<\/span> Winter Institute—an annual convention for booksellers. I’ve never been in a city that felt more vacant. One night we went to Beale Street, the<\/em> street for music and bar hopping. Structurally, it looks like 6th St (?) in Austin, with police cars at both ends so that no one can drive there and everyone can drink booze in the streets. <\/p>\n Except that it was totally empty. Like, literally empty. <\/p>\n Over the course of the four days I was there, I think I saw 14 people who weren’t associated with Winter Institute out in the wild. One was a “security guy” who doubled as a PR man for downtown Memphis. He accosted me and Will Vanderhyden as we were walking down the street one day.<\/p>\n “Y’all got any questions about downtown?”<\/p>\n “Where are all the people?”<\/p>\n “Here in Memphis, we’ve got four Fortune 500 companies, but they’re all located about 40 minutes away the suburbs and downtown is being revitalized and during the months of April through September it’s a totally different place.”<\/p>\n “Cool. Makes sense. Thanks.”<\/p>\n “Do you know what Highway 40 doesn’t pass through here?”<\/p>\n “. . .”<\/p>\n “The state wanted it to. But Memphis folk? We stand up for ourselves. We said NO HIGHWAY<\/span> THROUGH<\/span> OUR<\/span> PARK<\/span>. It went all the way to the Supreme Court and Memphians won.”<\/p>\n “Where are<\/em> we?”<\/p>\n “Downtown Memphis! Where the people are all friendly and there’s a massive Pyramid that houses the world’s largest Bass Pro Shop! You HAVE<\/span> to check it out! Ain’t nothing else like it.”<\/p>\n Season of the Shadow<\/em><\/a> by L\u00e9onora Miano, translated from the French by Gila Walker (Seagull Books)<\/b><\/p>\n Shit! I forgot to include my original Grove joke . . . Right before Will and I encountered Mr. Memphis, we were at a food truck square for lunch. Eight food trucks, six Memphians. Good ratio! As we were eating, Morgan Entrekin, current publisher of Grove, came wandering up and said, “Where is<\/em> everyone?” I’ve never seen anyone look so befuddled and out-of-sorts.<\/p>\n It was so weird! A bunch of us went walking to a nearby restaurant during rush hour, and strolled across major streets without even bothering to look both ways. Memphis rush hour in February is like something from the Walking Dead.<\/em> We saw maybe four cars and a homeless guy picking Other Press tote bags out of the trash. (True story! He even got a bunch of books with the tote! Which he’ll never read but which may make a good paper-quilt . . . ) Everyone who was at Winter Institute will back me up on this. It’s entirely plausible that Memphis was just a simulacrum and we were all in some hidden basement in Amazon having memories implanted into our minds. <\/p>\n Empty Set<\/em><\/a> by Vero\u00f3nica Gerber Bicecci, translated from the Spanish by Christina MacSweeney (Coffee House)<\/b><\/p>\n Two things about Winter Institute and money:<\/p>\n 1. Winter Institute is absolutely<\/em>, without question, the best event in the country for publishers to meet with booksellers and get them to get behind their books. (Handselling to the Handsellers would be a great band name for a terrible bookstore band.) Winter Institute can make<\/em> a book. But to get in the door, publishers have to put up at least $6,000. That’s maybe reasonable? If you’re New Directions, NYRB<\/span>, Europa, Coffee House, Graywolf, Melville House, etc., not to mention the Penguin Random Houses and Hachettes of the world. <\/p>\n (They pay far<\/em> more than $6,000 in order to lock down their control on the bookshelves of America. I love<\/em> how PRH<\/span> pays lip service to independent booksellers at events like this, wining and dining them, and, taking them by bus<\/em> to a remote dinner party so that the booksellers can’t leave. On the surface, this seems totally cool. Why shouldn’t PRH<\/span> buy the booksellers some fancy whiskey? Because of my paranoid tendencies, insecure depression, or game theory ideas, I see a bit of a darker lining in this. PRH<\/span> is like Post Cereal—they’re as concerned with limiting competition as they are with producing great product. If you can keep booksellers locked in, paying attention to you and all your books, you can make sure that 75% of all inventory is from your company. That’s super valuable simply because it decreases the odds that a customer will end up buying a book from one of your competitors. Post produces dozens of cereals a year that don’t sell for shit, but take up the space that a better cereal from some dirty hippie indie manufacturer [like this Sea Stars cereal from Love Grown<\/a> that we bought at a Whole Foods once, and which looks and tastes exactly like regular sugary rice-puff cereal, but once my kids saw the words “lentils” and “beans” on the box they for real started to cry and refused to eat any] would otherwise occupy. This is why there are 49 Starbucks on every corner. And I’m sure that the higher-ups at commercial book publishers know this strategy and how much this sort of market penetration is worth.) <\/p>\n For presses like New Vessel, Open Letter, Transit, Deep Vellum—those indie translation presses that I’m obviously concerned with—this is a fortune to spend on a week-long event. And yet, you have<\/em> to be there. Which means that we end up with another contradictory situation in the book world: booksellers advocating meritocratic ideas of really handselling what they love, where quality counts, while also inhabiting an economic space that’s very much a pay-to-play situation. Such is baseball, such is life. <\/p>\n If translation presses can’t keep their collective feet in this door, they’ll probably end up doing fewer and fewer translations, or just stopping all together, and instead of the 660ish translations we got in 2016, we’ll get . . . oh. <\/p>\n 2. Patrick Walsh of Custom Publishing Partners (hi, Patrick!) got drunk with a bunch of us on the last night. Several people—Nick Buzanski, Javier Ramirez, and Will Vanderhyden—heard him bet me $1,000 that in 2018, Hunter Pence will “have a Hall of Fame season” and bat over .320 for the year. Now, I’m not supporting gambling, but I’m taking that bet ALL<\/span> DAY<\/span> E’ER’ DAY<\/span>. Right now Pence is projected to bat .264. To move from a lifetime batting average of .282 to over .320 basically impossible. Patrick, do you go to Fangraphs at all? I’M GOING<\/span> TO TAKE<\/span> YOUR<\/span> MONEY<\/span> THIS<\/span> IS LEGALLY<\/span> BINDING<\/span>. <\/p>\n Stone Building and Other Places<\/em><\/a> by Asl\u0131 Erdo\u011fan, translated from the Turkish by Sevin\u00e7 T\u00fcrkkan (City Lights)<\/b><\/p>\n I obnoxiously sent a publisher—who rejected the book I wrote—a text about how he should publish all 64 translation pieces I’m planning on writing this year (52 books and 12 monthly overviews). Taken as a whole, these should be an interesting look at world of publishing AND<\/span> about a healthy swath of books published during a given year. There’s totally some cutesy title about “52 weeks” or a “year of” reading X while Y that you can build out of this idea.<\/p>\n This is so presumptuous! <\/p>\n To be honest, I only write these to work through my emotions on screen. The joy I get out of writing these posts is so outsized compared to the number of people who actually read them. And that’s fine. TRUST<\/span> THE<\/span> PROCESS<\/span>. <\/p>\n Which is why it’s probably time to talk about the National Book Award for Translation, which was announced earlier this week. <\/p>\n I knew this was coming. And welcomed it! Who doesn’t want more awards for the thing that they’re passionate about? The more the merrier, right? And there’s nothing at all wrong with giving more money to authors and translators. Plus, the attention being paid to the winners of this award far exceeds what a single press can do on its own. Sure, Tom’s said before on the podcast that the only award that shifts significant copies is the Pulitzer, but every translator in the world would be happy to ride an NBA<\/span> award for the rest of their career.<\/p>\n But then this New York Times<\/em><\/a> story happened, sparking a ton of questions. <\/p>\n The Neighborhood<\/em><\/a> by Mario Vargas Llosa, translated from the Spanish by Edith Grossman (FSG<\/span>)<\/b><\/p>\n I know it’s a bad idea, but I can’t resist pointing out a few of the lazy parts of that article that had people across social media platforms up in arms and trying to process what they had read.<\/p>\n While there are a growing number of publishing houses that specialize in publishing works in translation and international literature \u2014 including Europa Editions, Archipelago Books, AmazonCrossing and Tilted Axis, which publishes contemporary Asian literature, mainly by women \u2014 translated literature still accounts for a tiny percentage of books published in the United States. <\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n \n<\/p>\n What percentage might that be? Maybe three? Three sounds good. <\/p>\n Also (and no slight or insult intended toward Deborah Smith, who is doing great things), the curious inclusion of Titled Axis—a press with, what, six published books under its belt, thus making it one of the biggest players in the translation publishing world?, right up there with Dalkey Archive, New Directions, and FSG<\/span>?—which is based in the UK and can’t possibly be eligible for the National Book Award. Unless everything is all upside down. Which is totally possible in 2018, I know, I KNOW<\/span>. <\/p>\n Other literary institutions have also made efforts to highlight works in translation. The PEN<\/span> America Center has given out a translation prize to highlight international works since the 1960s. In 2015, the Booker Prize Foundation recast its international prize, which was previously open to novelists writing in English, as an award dedicated to fiction in translation.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n Oh, yeah, you’re totally right, other organizations have<\/em> tried to do such a revolutionary thing! Awards like, oh, I don’t know, the Best Translated Book Award<\/a>, which gives out TWICE<\/span> as much award money to international authors and translators than the NBA<\/span>? (But doesn’t really get the same level of respect from the NYT<\/span><\/em> for obvious, yet disheartening, reasons.) <\/p>\n\n
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