#WITMonth 2025 Wrap-Up!

 

And that's a wrap for this year's Women in Translation Month! I really enjoyed reading and sharing so many great titles this year. I also found another batch of titles to add to my TBR thanks to reviews and publisher's highlights as well, as usual. I think I add as many new titles to my list as the ones I've finished reading and reviewing. 

The most common language I read from this year was Ukrainian. I love making discoveries but also finding reviews of books I've read myself, to get other readers' perspectives on them. 

Women in translation matter all year round, of course, and it's important to keep reading them. I have a few titles that I've finished and will post my reviews shortly, carrying this over into September. 

And how did I do with my own plans this month? Pretty good, I think. I read half of the titles I'd pulled from my own shelves, and 3 out of the 4 library books I had brought home. I also added some unexpected ones that were delightful. 

I have lots lined up as to-read, as shown in my Translation Thursday posts this month. And there are many intriguing new titles I discovered from other readers that I would really like to read soon! It's never a problem to find new titles to read. 

Did you find a new favourite this month?

A Crash Course in Molotov Cocktails

 

A Crash Course in Molotov Cocktails / Halyna Kruk
trans. from the Ukrainian by Amelia M. Glaser & Yuliya Ilchuk
Cambridge, MA: Arrowsmith, c2023.
192 p.

I wanted to read some poetry for Women in Translation Month; this volume is one that I've had on my list for a while. I finally got a copy, and have been working my way through it over the last week. It is published with the original Ukrainian on the left hand page, and the English version on the right. I really liked this, even though I can't read Ukrainian myself - but it would be a really great element if you did. As it is, I still feel it added to the reading experience; there was the original poem, breathing right in front of you. 

These poems are stark, responding to the outbreak of full scale war in 2022. There are metaphors and imagery that evoke the visceral experience of living with violence and upheaval, and emotional threads that pull you in despite the brevity of the lines. This collection is powerful and moving, but also quite accessible, I thought. The poems are shorter, and are addressing universal concerns about war, life, literature, choices, through the lens of the Ukrainian experience. 

There were a couple of poems that really stood out to me, but all of them were solid - I don't think there was a weak link in this collection. There are stark statements about violence and death, and about the span of history; Kruk uses the Ukrainian past to illustrate the present in so many ways - from one poem:

we stopped digging deep long ago

in this uncertain field of ours-yours

because all kinds of junk can turn up:

human bones, horses’ heads, unexploded mines,

a battle ax, the peg that marked the border

between our side and yours...

There is so much to reread and think on in this collection. I would recommend it for anyone interested in poetry and how it both faces and repudiates war. 

You can read quite a bit of her poetry online; there are a few shared at LitHub, and there is a nice sampling from this book at the Griffin Poetry Prize site, where she was a nominee in 2024, both poems and video.

You can hear both Kruk and her translators read one of the poems, thanks the to Griffin Poetry Prize (this was a nominee) 

 

 And you can also listen to a lengthy interview with Halyna Kruk if you want to find out more about her writing and her poetic response to war, in this video from Razom.

 

The Way Things Were

 

The Way Things Were / Marko Vovchok
trans. from the Ukrainian by Maria K
TSK Group, 2018.
read by Susan Greenaway

When I saw this audiobook of Marko Vovchok's stories, I wanted to listen -- Vovchok (Maria Alexandrona Vilinskaya-Markevich) wrote many ethnographic stories starting in the 1850s, continuing for many years to write and then to translate a variety of languages into Ukrainian and Russian. Her short stories shared here show the lives of serfs, particularly those of women. They reveal the terrible structure of serfdom; people belonged to an estate, essentially, and had no freedom of movement, autonomy or rights. In one story, a girl is married to another serf by the owner's whim; in another, a young woman is given as a present to a visiting relative, and is taken away from her family without any say in it. These do reveal the day to day, of hard work, and the quality of life for these serfs fully dependent on the character of the land owner -- many of them spiteful and cruel. 

I found some of these stories very good, realistic and full of daily detail along with the emotional reactions of the characters. This servitude was a heavy burden to bear. A few of them were a bit too melodramatic for me, however, particularly "Nine Brothers & their sister Galya"; it was so ridiculous. 

But there were some important themes, and a couple of the stories really stood out to me with their strong characters and social commentary. So I'm glad I encountered them. 

However. I had difficulty finishing this collection, and that was entirely due to the odd choices in the translation, and the reader. Both felt amateur, almost at a Librivox level.  The translation uses modern phrasing and terms, maybe to bring the stories to a more relatable level, but it was a bit jarring that she always uses "kids" instead of "children", and "my dear" as a translation of any honorary address or diminuitive. It wasn't terrible, but it also wasn't really good. 

The reader was the biggest stumbling block for me. She has a British accent that was distracting, and her reading was stilted. There were pauses where it was clear a page was being turned in the middle of a sentence, or maybe she had lost her place for a second. The way the dialogue was presented was often wooden, and many, many words were mispronounced -- it took me quite a while to realize that when she was saying "Napier" she meant "Dnieper", for example. I was highly motivated to listen to these stories, so I persevered. But I can't really recommend this particular edition of Vovchok, because of the clunky translation and narration.   


If you're interested in checking out some stories by Marko Vovchok for yourself, you can find a collection of her folk tales online here from a 1983 translation made in Western Canada by N. Pedan-Popil. That's what I am going to read next! 

Translation Thursday

 

It's Translation Thursday! Each Thursday this month I'm going to share the translation I'm currently reading plus a few more on my reading list. Here's today's list:

Currently Reading:

A Crash Course in Molotov Cocktails / Halyna Kruk
trans. from the Ukrainian by Amelia M. Glaser & Yuliya Ilchuk

To Read: 

Amadoka / Sofia Andrukhovych
trans. from the Ukrainian by Daisy Gibbons
(est. English release date 2026)

The God of Freedom / Yuliya Musakovska
trans. from the Ukrainian by the author with Olena Jennings

A Novel about a Good Person / Emma Andiievska
trans. from the Ukrainian by Olha Rudakevych

We'll Prescribe You a Cat

 

We'll Prescribe You a Cat / Syou Ishida
trans. from the Japanese by E. Madison Shimoda
NY: Berkley, 2024, c2023.
297 p.

Another light read for this week. This is a book that could easily have been too twee; but as it turns out, it balances the cat tweeness with some real life difficulties that the characters are facing. And it's leavened with some light humour. I really enjoyed it!

It's five connected stories set in Kyoto, featuring different individuals who hear about an odd mental health clinic that is found down a narrow alleyway, with a doctor and nurse who prescribe cats. The patients are often taken aback when they have a cat handed to them, but the 10 day course of "treatment" usually does work wonders. Some of the characters bond and don't want to give their cats back; others feel ready to move forward in life which will include finding their own cat later on. 

The issues that the characters face include a young girl in the midst of school drama (and her rigid mother), a middle aged businessman feeling edged out at his workplace by an energetic new female supervisor, a young salesman facing a career crisis, a work focused designer with no bandwidth to recognize her own needs, and a geiko (Kyoto geisha) who is trying to get over her lost cat. 

I loved the setting - so often these books are set in Tokyo but this one really uses its location of Kyoto beautifully. I felt like I learned about the city and culture as well as the characters. The clinic itself is unusual; it's only there for people who really need it. And the secret of the nurse and doctor's presence is hinted at, becoming clear to the reader (and only the reader) by the end. Definitely leaving you set up for the next one! 

I thought this was a delight. Meaningful, not too sentimental, but light and uplifting as well. I really liked the unusual characters and the way the author drew out their dilemmas, everyday ones but so important to the person going through it. I felt that there was a clear love of both animals and people shown by this author's writing, and that the balance in each story was finely drawn. I'd definitely recommend this one when you need some Uplit! 

Adventures with Waffles

 

Adventures with Waffles / Maria Parr
trans. from the Norwegian by Guy Puzey
Somerville, MA: Candlewick Press, 2015, c2005.
232 p.

I found this delightful children's book from Norway in my library's e-collection so gave it a try. It is the first in a series, and apparently quite a popular series in its original language. I thought it was a very satisfying read -- interesting characters (both children and adults), a fascinating setting and lots of character development to engage readers. 

Trille lives with his family on an island in Norway. Lena is his neighbour and best friend, although she is so full of energy and charisma in comparison to Trille that he secretly worries that she doesn't consider him her best friend in return. The two of them have a year of adventures, from simple ones to ones that result in concussions. They have close relationships with Trille's parents, his Grandpa who lives with them, and Auntie Granny who lives nearby and makes the best waffles. And Lena decides she needs to find a husband for her single mom, another adventure for the two of them. 

The story weaves together hilarity and heart, also including more serious moments and experiences of grief. It is wholly "good" somehow, with characters who have integrity and character. It feels like a contemporary middle grade inspirational story (there is talk about Christianity) with a pinch of Pippi Longstocking. It made me laugh and it made me choke up. I really loved it. There is a second volume now available, too, so I think that's up when I need another feel-good read. 

Big Bad Wool

 

Big Bad Wool / Leonie Swann
trans. from the German by Amy Bojang
New York : Soho Crime, 2025, c2009.
370 p.

Part Two in the series by Leonie Swann about a flock of sheep that solves mysteries! This one is a little more philosophical than the first, Three Bags Full. The sheep from the first story are now wintering in France with their new shepherd, Rebecca. They are uncertain about what is going to happen to them after this pause, and try to chat up the goats in the next pasture to find out a little more about the strange location that Rebecca has found for them. But goats, well, they are a bit insular and a bit nuts at the same time -- it's hard to get a straight answer out of any of them. 

But there has been trouble in the past; there are rumours of a loup-garou who may have returned to the scene of his crimes. A dead deer has been found in the woods, killed in the same manner as the victims from years before. 

The story moves a little oddly here; it feels a bit surreal -- of course, we are looking at it from the point of view of sheep, so obviously it's a bit fantastical. But this feels a bit hard to piece together from impressions by different members of the flock, sometimes at least. There is a kind of metaphysical mystery going on alongside the real killings, the ones that everyone is afraid will escalate. At times you aren't sure if the characters interacting with the sheep are real, imaginary, or ghosts. And the human characters are a bit indecipherable from the sheep's eye view, too. 

I liked this novel, and thought that some of the characterizations and the writing were enjoyable. Not sure I really understood or bought the mystery plot here though. It felt a little darker and a little more metaphysical than the first novel, which was straightforward in plot in comparison. Still the idea is great, and the sheep telling the story is what makes this series special. I did like it; hopefully there will be another in this series translated soon! 

Sunday Suggestions

 

Today's suggestions are novels that I think are ones to seek out if you want to understand Ukraine. I find fiction a great way to get a sense of people and places, and these are really good stories for that! 

The Museum of Abandoned Secrets / Oksana Zabuzhko
translated from the Ukrainian by Nina Shevchuk-Murray

The Museum of Abandoned Secrets is a lengthy, twisty, lively, and evocative story of three women in Ukraine - two in a contemporary timeline and one in WWII. This is a must-read for those interested in learning more about the Ukrainian past, as well as the national psyche. I find Zabuzhko's almost breathless, energetic style very readable, and enjoy the way she can make dark themes snappy and engaging. Full Review Here. 

Daughter / Tamara Duda
trans. from the Ukrainian by Daisy Gibbons

This is the story of a woman from Donbas as the Russian invasion of 2014 begins, following the Maidan protests. The main character is a stained glass artist with a workshop, but as the Russian occupation begins she becomes a supporter of the Ukrainian defence forces. The story is based on the true experiences of a variety of people, but is a fictional account of this era, and  is immensely compelling. Full Review Here. 

Ivan & Phoebe / Oksana Lutsyshyna
trans. from the Ukrainian by Nina Murray

This story of a young couple, Ivan and Phoebe, melds the conversation about a free Ukraine and revolution/protest with a closer look at domestic life and the relations between the sexes. There are the same problems showing up in different ways between the political body and real bodies as Ukraine moves into the tumultuous 90s. Full Review Here. 

This a read with stylistic flourishes, structural concepts and a large cast of characters. It follows a "made family" formed in 1986 when four women give birth and a local functionary bribes them into naming one of the children at least after German Communist leader Ernst Thälmann  -- the parents are the last Soviet generation; these children are destined to be the first post-Soviet one. Fragmentary, wide-ranging and fascinating, this is a must read. Full Review Here. 

All the World's a Mall

All the World's a Mall / Rinny Gremaud
trans. from the French by Luise von Flotow
Edmonton: University of Alberta Press, 2023, c2018.
152 p.

I picked up this slim book at my library, thinking it was an interesting premise -- the author travels to five cities, Edmonton, Beijing, Kuala Lumpur, Dubai, and Casablanca, to visit five of the largest malls in the world. 

I was intrigued by the inclusion of the West Edmonton Mall, since I have been there myself.  That is mainly why I wanted to read it. The book began in Edmonton & I enjoyed seeing her explore places I recognized. 

The concept is that these malls are almost like cities into themselves, but she finds that they are sterile, centered on commerce & transactional relationships, lacking any real sense of life. I think that is a common response to megamalls.

She pushes herself to rapidly visit these five shopping centres, interviewing shop owners and executives. Interspersed with this, she talks about her own life & family, how tired she is, how much she misses them. 

Even though this is a short book, it felt repetitive by the end. The malls are indeed all very much alike & that sameness means she doesn't have a lot to add by the fifth one. Also, having her conclusion laid out in the first chapter means that there isn't too much discovery going on. It just felt depressing by halfway through, with the reader wondering why she was bothering to complete this project.  

So while there were some good points, especially in the first half, I did feel like the book kind of petered out. Perhaps it would have been more effective as a magazine article in a condensed form. 

The Goldberg Variations

The Goldberg Variations / Nancy Huston
trans. from the French by Nancy Huston
Signature, c1981.
160 p.

I've read a number of Nancy Huston's books; this is one that she wrote first in French and translated into English herself; there are a few in her oeuvre that were written this way. 

It's organized around the structure of Bach's Goldberg Variations, 30 chapters focusing on the different characters, who are revealed through their thoughts as they listen to the piece of music. Each chapter is a monologue of sorts, with each person connected somehow to the performer.

The book begins and ends with Liliane Kulainn, the harpichordist giving a performance of the Goldberg Variations in her Paris apartment, to a select invited group.

All the people at this house concert are her ex-lovers, old friends or colleagues, or people who have come with them. As we enter each character's thoughts, there are revelations -- some specifically about Liliane but some with people's minds wandering, thinking about their own lives. 

As the focus changes between characters, the voices do too. Some of them are almost a different dialect, while others reveal class or regional differences. It's an interesting concept & it mostly works. It opens up space for many stories, and makes this a book you can read chapter by chapter without losing the plot.  That said, there isn't much of an actual plot, it's more of a character study. But one that keeps you reading. 

I did find that with so many characters, and all revealed through interior monologues, it was a slower paced read. Not a lot of emotional connection; but quite a bit of technical, stylistic flair. Maybe like the Goldberg Variations themselves, especially in the hands of Glenn Gould. I admired this novel, but it's probably not one I would read again. 

 

Translation Thursday

 It's Translation Thursday! Each Thursday this month I'm going to share the translation I'm currently reading plus a few more on my reading list. Here's today's list:

Currently Reading:

My Name is Emilia del Valle / Isabel Allende
trans. from the Spanish by Frances Riddle

To Read: 

Blood of the Dawn / Claudia Salazar Jimenez
trans. from the Spanish by Elizabeth Bryer

They Have Fired Her Again / Claudia Hernandez
trans. from the Spanish by Aaron Lacayo

House of Mist / Maria Luisa Bombal

trans. from the Spanish by the author

The Healing Season Of Pottery

 

The Healing Season of Pottery / Yeon Somin
trans. from the Korean by Clare Richards
NY: Algonquin, 2024, c2023.
272 p.

This recent Korean novel was really enjoyable. It falls into the healing fiction category, but it has a little more depth as well. This storyline is another example of the midlife crisis at 30 that I've been noticing in Korean novels of this kind recently. 

Jungmin has burnt out at thirty, and abruptly quits her job as a tv writer, ending up as a recluse in her small apartment for months. Spring comes and she finally stumbles out into the world, coming across a pottery workshop that she at first mistakes for a café. The people inside are very welcoming, and somehow Jungmin finds herself joining some pottery classes. 

The regular schedule gets her out of her apartment, working with her hands provides her some calm and relief, and the small core of students she meets there give her new friendships and social interactions. She even ends up taking in a cat for one of them. 

The author clearly knows how to do pottery, and the details of the actual construction of pottery gives lots of opportunity for metaphors for life. I thought this worked very well. It's a nice change from the cafes, cats and bookshops that populate most of the books in this genre. Although there are cats and coffee here too ;) 

Through the year of making pottery and making a new place for herself in the world, Jungmin gets a sense of what she wants to do next, and what will be meaningful for her. There is a small thread of romance in the story, but she is not saved by falling in love or finding a relationship; she makes her own path, particularly focused on her work life. I really appreciated that, and felt that it gave integrity to this story. We also get a little bit of insight into the other characters and their big changes - they all have something that they are facing up to. I thought the interactions between the characters were lovely, each one an interesting person and no nastiness going on. Even when a heavy incident from Jungmin's past  arises again, there is a resolution to the lingering bitterness. The reader is left with a sense of uplift and a feeling that these characters are going to be okay. 

The translation is a little noticeable at times, with many Korean words left untranslated, to give the flavour of the original, I assume. A small glossary would have been nice to include, but there is always google. Some of the choices definitely reflect the UK English of the translator, as well. And I found it interesting that this book talks about celebrating Christmas in Korea (they have a pottery booth at a Christmas fair) and various other elements of contemporary life like international travel, the business world and more. I really liked this one. 

Diary of a Void

 

Diary of a Void / Emi Yagi
trans. from the Japanese by David Boyd and Lucy North
NY: Viking, 2022, c2020.
213 p.

Another workplace novel, of sorts - this one is about women's roles in the workplace, maternity, and expectations of all kinds. 

At age 34,  Ms. Shibata leaves one workplace because of sexual harassment, and finds a new role at a cardboard tube manufacturer. She is the only woman in the office and discovers that all the little niceties fall to her, simply because she is a woman. Coffee, keeping the office tidy, distributing any vendor gifts, and so forth -- all just left for her, because she is female. And if these things aren't done, she is directly asked. She has had enough. 

So one day, asked to clear the coffee cups and cigarettes from a meeting, she refuses, saying that she is pregnant and the smell makes her sick. Bang! She no longer has to do so many things. But she is not, in fact, pregnant. 

But one said, this becomes a fact - she is treated differently because of the belief that she is pregnant. She doesn't have to do so many of the tedious chores at work. How is she going to maintain this fiction, though? She comes up with some ideas. Eventually she convinces even herself that she is pregnant, joining a maternity yoga class, finding a doctor, thinking about names...and going on maternity leave. 

It was  a compelling read, one that highlights so many nuances in women's experiences of the workplace, in particular. The way that single women in their thirties are treated differs from mothers, even single mothers like Ms. Shibata. This is key to the book, and while it started getting a little weird for a while, the ending draws everything together. It leaves you thinking. 

The Woman in the Purple Skirt

 

The Woman in the Purple Skirt / Natsuko Imamura
trans. from the Japanese by Lucy North 
NY: Penguin, 2021, c2019.
216 p.

The Woman in the Purple Skirt is noticeable. She has a routine; sits on the same park bench at the same time of day, to eat the same cream bun. Except for when she is working, at one of the many temp jobs she gets. We know this because The Woman in the Yellow Cardigan is watching her, and telling us. 

The narrator is obsessed with this stranger; she watches her, notes down her movements and habits, and decides to find her a steady job at her own workplace, as a hotel cleaner. Through some oblique efforts (ie: leaving the jobs magazine open to the right page where she knows the Woman in the Purple Skirt will pick it up) she manages to do this. Now she can observe her closely and will obviously become her friend. 

But we know that this isn't going to work out as the narrator thinks it will. The Woman in the Purple Skirt has a mind of her own, and her own goals here. She behaves as she needs to to be accepted by the new work team, but begins to take advantages where she can, eating food from the rooms, taking the complimentary shampoos and so forth. But she really goes for it when she begins an affair with the owner. 

This doesn't end well, and the Woman in the Yellow Cardigan sees her opening. But even that careful plan goes awry. 

This is a strange little book, full of both personal obsession and the particular behaviours of a female workplace. It was fascinating to read, with a style that is surprisingly suspenseful considering it is mainly talking about the narrator's obsession with the other woman. Her goal, to bring herself into the orbit of this woman that people notice, is a lost cause; her own desire to be seen goes unfulfilled. 

Another note: I appreciated the book design for this one as well; the dust jacket incorporates yellow and purple, as well as a set of stairs dividing two women (appropriate to events in the book). Even the actual hard cover of the book is in yellow and purple. Great attention to detail by the designers! 

Sunday Suggestions

 

Along with reading, stitching is my main hobby - I love sewing and embroidery. So today I'm sharing a few novels that combine my two favourite things. Today's theme for Women in Translation reading suggestions is Needlework!

Cross Stitch / Jazmina Barrera
trans. from the Spanish by Christina MacSweeney

This Mexican novel follows the friendship of three young women who were very close in high school; they are brought back together as adults when one of them dies. This rich novel explores the role of female friendship, interspersed with the history of embroidery, to create a resonant feminist narrative. Full review here. 

The Threads of the Heart / Carole Martinez
trans. from the French by Howard Curtis

Written in French, set in a remote village in Spain, this features a strong woman whose magical gift is sewing; her gowns can make someone beautiful for the first time in their lives, or hide a pregnancy, or stitch life back into someone on death's door. But this doesn't keep her husband from gambling her away -- leading to her escape and subsequent nomadic life. Full review here. 

The Seamstress of Sardinia / Bianca Pitzorno
trans. from the Italian by Brigid Maher

Starting in 1900 in Sardinia, this novel follows a young woman across her lifespan. She is brought up as a sartina (a "little seamstress") who goes into people's homes to sew clothing and household goods for them. This position gives her a great vantage point to see the secrets and drama in the lives of others. Full review here.

The Time In Between / Maria Duenas;
trans. from the Spanish by Daniel Hahn

A wartime story featuring Sira Quiroga, a young dressmaker who uses her skills to survive during revolutionary war in Spain. She even gets involved in spying, using her profession as a cover. An exciting saga with romance, intrigue, great women characters, and more. Full review here. 

Counterattacks at Thirty

Counterattacks at Thirty / Won-Pyung Sohn
trans. from the Korean by Sean Lin Halbert
Toronto: HarperVia, 2025, c2017.
240 p.

I like workplace novels; there is something that intrigues me about the daily life of other people. So when I saw this Korean book, I knew I had to read it. 

Kim Jihye is around 30 but she's still an intern at a small college. She can't quite figure out where she's gone wrong, career-wise, but just goes along with the role and its menial tasks and hopes for the best. Then a new intern shows up, Gyuok Lee. He's about her age but doesn't seem to mind being an intern, in fact he is so calm and helpful everyone loves him. But Jihye has seen him before. 

Gyuok Lee is a rebel, he quietly stirs people up to some kind of rebellion, some kind of striking back against an oppressive system. Jihye, however, is a rule-follower, and is shocked to find she is drawn to Gyuok's ideas. One of the benefits of their internship is that are allowed to take one free class a term at their college. Jihye has never taken advantage of it, but Gyuok says they should take the most expensive one, which turns out to be a beginner ukulele class. In this class they meet two other disaffected men. 

Gyuok uses this small group to stir up small acts of opposition to those who use power to oppress, from the smallest example (their boss who doesn't do much work but burps and farts all over the office) to larger, corrupt organizations. We don't see the actual acts they perform, after the first couple, but  they do escalate to bigger efforts, until they are all briefly arrested at one of them. And when they find the full background of  the others, this little band breaks down. 

This was an interesting novel, and an interesting concept. It seems to combine the darker side of Korean fiction with the lighter, "healing novel" side. There is a bit of both and they balance each other so that this book ends up somewhere in the middle. Jihye is pushed out of her rut - she moves on to a better, real job and is able to use her skills and experiences creatively. The other three sort of fade out, until Gyuok reappears, calm as ever, at the end. There is a small romantic thread going on but I was pleased that it wasn't the focus, and that Jihye finds herself by finding a new job and creating new experiences, not by falling in love. There are thoughtful issues in this story and a hopeful conclusion. I liked all that. I did find that the plot was a little loose at times, and the pace of the novel was a little uneven. But the two primary characters were well drawn and moved the story. This is one of a number of Korean novels I have read recently that focus on being thirty as a turning point in life, it's like middle age crisis hits at 30 in Korea.  

In any case, I thought this was a good read, with thought-provoking points and a strong main character in the very ordinary Kim Jihye. 
 

The Dallergut Dream-Making District

 

The Dallergut Dream-Making District / Miye Lee
trans. from the Korean by Sandy Joosun Lee
Toronto, ON : Hanover Square Press, 2025, c2021.
298 p.

Part two of the Dallergut Dream Department Store duology, this Korean book is whimsical almost to a fault. I read the first one last year, and decided to continue the story with this new volume. 

It continues main character Penny's story. She's now been a reliable employee at the Dallergut Dream Department Store (a place where sleepers go to purchase new dreams) for a year, so she is being given new privileges, namely the opportunity to travel to the lower town, the shopping district for dream makers. This includes a look at the Noctiluna's Laundry, which was an intriguing addition. 

There are employee interactions, both smooth and prickly, there are new experiences for Penny as she tries to bring back shoppers who have dropped off the radar, and there is also a huge dream festival created by Dallergut to close out the book. 

I found this one a little twee; the beginning was especially hard to connect to as it was a lot of 'telling', creating new locations and so on. The last half of the book was a bit more fun and natural feeling, especially once all the staff got in on the Festival planning. That element was energetic and fun. 

I don't know if this is the conclusion of the story, or if there will be more to come. But I'm not sure I'm invested enough to read another in this series anyhow; it's a bit soporific, ironically enough. 

Translation Thursday

 

It's Translation Thursday! Each Thursday this month I'm going to share the translation I'm currently reading plus a few more on my reading list. Here's today's list:

Currently Reading: 

The Woman in the Purple Skirt / Natsuko Imamura
trans. from the Japanese by Lucy North

To Read: 

We'll Prescribe You a Cat / Syou Ishida
trans. from the Japanese by E. Madison Shimoda

Diary of a Void / Emi Yagi
trans. from the Japanese by David Boyd & Lucy North

The Lantern of Lost Memories / Sanaka Hiiragi
trans. from the Japanese by Jesse Kirkwood 

The Wonders

The Wonders / Elena Medel
trans. from the Spanish by Lizzie Davis & Thomas Bunstead
Chapel Hill, NC: Algonquin Books, 2022, c2020.
229 p.

Two women's lives collide in this Spanish story; Maria, in her 70s and participating in a protest march in downtown Madrid, and Alicia, long time worker at a convenience store at the train station, who is trying to leave work, not protesting. 

These two women are connected in ways they don't realize. The narrative jumps between decades, giving us glimpses of both of their lives, the ways in which their experience echoes one another in regards to family, motherhood, money or lack of it, power, hyperindependence, politics and more. There are similarities, and as the reader gets further in, we begin to sense these connections more clearly. 

Maria is from a small town, but moves to Madrid while very young, to work as a cleaner. She sticks with this profession her whole life, but is also a reader and thinker, and gets involved with women's solidarity groups as she gets older. This leads to her participation in the women's march at the conclusion of the book. Alicia, on the other hand, is much younger, of another generation. She started out with wealth, but her family lost it all in tragic circumstances. This has shaped her personality, and as an adult she has cut herself off from others, including her own family. 

I enjoyed the way that this story is structured. We learn more about each woman bit by bit, with a writing style that is pretty straightforward, but also has resonance (Medel is a poet as well). The hidden feelings and thoughts of these women are the interesting bits for Medel; she investigates the motives behind their decisions, and why they might have chosen paths that differ from the expectations of others. Self-determination and no self-definitions based on motherhood are important themes as well, which I found compelling. 

This book is really character focused, much more than plot - it meanders a bit, and there is no startling conclusion. It's an examination of lives lived in changing circumstances, and I found the pacing and mood of the book just to my liking. It hit at exactly the right moment. Topics of politics, protest, and wealth distribution are raised in this story, which is also so timely.

The title is another point of discussion; does it refer to the wonders of wealth, the multiple tvs and new clothes that one character is so lucky to have in comparison to her schoolmates, an indelible memory for them -- or does it refer to the wonders of family and routine and comfort, which these young girls are so happy to return to? Lots to talk about and think about in this book for sure. 


 

Szabo's The Door

 

The Door / Magda Szabo
trans. from the Hungarian by Len Rix
NY: NYRB, 2015, c1987.
262 p.

This classic masterpiece, highly recommend by the NYRB and many awards lists, was one that I struggled with. I felt it had such a slow start that I had to begin it a couple of times, after putting it down after a chapter and then forgetting how it started.  

The story is that Magda, an educated writer, needs a housekeeper. She gets recommendations to hire Emerence, a local woman who decides if she'll take you on, not the other way around. Emerence despises intellectuals, religion and love, but she takes to Magda and her husband somehow, and a twenty year relationship begins. 

The book is all about the ups and downs of this relationship, the strange quirks and angry exchanges they have, the way that their dog really only recognizes Magda as a master, the misunderstandings and failings between them, and the small snippets of the past that the obsessively private Emerence lets slip now and again. 

The crisis of the book comes when Magda forces Emerence to open her door to emergency workers, when Emerence is gravely ill. But Emerence can't forgive her for putting her illness and weakness on display to the neighbourhood. This small event becomes the main crisis of the book, with Magda wringing her hands and having a nervous breakdown about it. 

Honestly, it felt like such a manufactured crisis to me, I couldn't understand it. There didn't seem to be any practical thought by anyone, and everyone was so touchy about every small nuance of action, speech, intent. I can recognize the fine writing here, and the slow accretion of a life as we learn more about Emerence is convincing. The way that her life stands for a whole strand of Hungarian history is compelling. But for me, the narrative was both too slow moving and too emotional. So much upset and anger and stubbornness that I struggled to get through it. I guess this one was just not for me. 

The Wildcat Behind Glass

 

The Wildcat Behind Glass / Alki Zei
trans. from the Greek by Karen Emmerich
Amherst, MA: Restless Books, 2024, c1963.
240 p.

This is a classic children's book from Greece, but how relevant today. This is a fresh translation, and the story remains fresh and relatable. 

Melia and Myrto are sisters, growing up in 1930s Greece under a dictatorship. They share a secret language, they play with the other kids on their summer island even if they aren't quite the same class, they love their grandfather's stories of myths, and they also love their cousin Nikos. He is probably early 20s, and he is a favourite of all the children - he's charming, fun, and tells them stories, especially about the stuffed wildcat in the display case in Melia and Myrto's parlour. This wildcat gets around; having adventures, passing messages, and more -- and it becomes both a symbol and a player in the growing political upheaval. 

The story is balanced between youthful naivety and serious politics. The girls play, go to school and do things suited to their ages but they also see things; neighbours, adults, even their cousin Nikos, behaving in unusual ways that they don't quite understand - they are almost there but still too young to be fully aware. But they aren't wide eyed and ridiculous narrators either; the story is pitched just right. 

It's a timely read, with intimations of how people adjust their behaviours early on to be discreet, not to stand out -- and how others jump right into resistance. Not only that, it is a touching story of these two girls and their awakening to reality, and their loving relationships with their cousin, mother, housekeeper, and friends. I enjoyed this - great characters and setting, and a look at a political moment that is clearly still relevant. 

Sunday Suggestions

 

Today's theme for Women in Translation reading suggestions is Mothers & Daughters. There are so many books that explore this connection, in so many different ways. Here are a few that I suggest as options. 

Mothers & Daughters 

Elena Knows / Claudia Pineiro
trans. from the Spanish by Frances Riddle

Elena Knows is the story of a woman struggling against her own physical limitations to find out the truth of what happened to her adult daughter, who has been found dead in a church. Powerful read. Full review here. 

Slow Emergencies / Nancy Huston
translated from the French by Nancy Huston.

Slow Emergencies is the story of Lin Lhomond, a dancer/choreographer who marries a professor, has two small girls, then is offered a great opportunity to direct a dance company in Mexico. She takes it and doesn't come back. This novel interrogates the question of motherhood itself.  Full review here.  

Inheritance From Mother / Minae Mizumura
translated from the Japanese by Juliet Winters Carpenter.

Two sisters are awaiting the death of their narcissistic mother; but only one is taking the responsibility for caring for her, despite her own life struggles. Really interesting look at mothers and daughters without a sentimental gloss. Full review here. 

Please Look After Mom / Kyung-Sook Shin
 translated by Chi-Young Kim.

This one looks at the disappearance of a Korean mother who has been inadvertently left behind on a train platform, from four perspectives: the eldest daughter, eldest son, husband and the mother herself. Touching and a good look at women's roles in Korea. Full review here.

Three Summers / Margarita Liberaki
trans. from the Greek by Karen Van Dyck

This one focuses mostly on three sisters, over three summers -- but their futures are being shaped by their mother, and one aunt as well. The way that expectations of women are passed down through families is part of this story. Full review here.