#WITMonth 2026 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 teader 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. 

Not only that, the Women in Translation website has posted a new roundup of WIT titles published between Jan 2025 and August 2026 -- SO MANY BOOKS TO READ!

The most common language I read from this month was Japanese. 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 quite a few other titles that I've finished, and will post my reviews shortly, carrying this over into September. 

Keep on reading Women in Translation! 

Matcha on Monday

 

Matcha on Monday / Michiko Aoyama
trans. from the Japanese by E. Madison Shimoda
NY: Hanover Square Press, 2026, c2021.
208 p.

My final review for WIT Month this year is Matcha on Monday, the second volume of the Marble Cafe series. I loved this book. I found it stronger and more resonant than the first, which I also enjoyed. But this one focused in a little more intently and so the storyline was tighter, and it also made the concept from the first novel -- that we are all connected -- even more explicit and emotionally moving. 

The Marble Cafe is a tiny shop is a quiet part of Tokyo that has a regular clientele. Except for on Mondays, when it's closed. But one Monday, a young woman is having a day full of bad luck and decides to treat herself, forgetting it's Monday. When she gets there she discovers that there is a little pop-up matcha cafe going on, and decides to go in and check it out. She is strangely intrigued by the non-communicative tea expert, the son of a tea wholesaler family from Kyoto who is testing out their teas in Tokyo. Luckily for her, he will be managing the new shop opening in Tokyo soon. 

This book also follows characters into the next story, once they appear in one they are likely to show up in the next one. We meet a lingerie designer/shop owner (loved her story), a befuddled husband who has angered his wife, a theatre artist who has a difficult relationship with her grandmother, and a singer going through a breakup. And The Master reappears in this one too. While the first book had its stories organized by colour, this one moves through a calendar year, as well as moving between Tokyo and Kyoto. 

I really enjoyed the thoughtful conversations that the characters had. Everyone is so civilized somehow, even while going through emotional ups and downs. I loved reading about the garment designer, the tea expert, Kyoto, puppets and more. So much in this one but I was especially struck by the Master's explanation of how we never know the connections that led to our meeting another person - because someone far back in the chain set something in motion, we can meet today, and we'll never know where it started -- and equally, how what we do today will affect those around us down the line. The smallest gesture or action may have a huge effect on someone's lives, and we'll never know it. It was a touching story, and I found the gentle connections between characters appealing and comforting. A new fave. 

Hot Chocolate on Thursday

Hot Chocolate on Thursday / Michiko Aoyama
trans. from the Japanese by E. Madison Shimoda
NY: Hanover Square Press, 2025, c2017.
208 p.

I first read Aoyama via her novel What You Are Looking For is in the Library. That one was a bit quirky but I still liked it enough to want to try this one, the start of a series. This novel hit my interests right now, and I really enjoyed it. 

It is set in a little cafe in a quiet part of Tokyo, the Marble Cafe. It is owned by someone known as The Master, but run by a young man who acts as manager. As it opens we meet a regular, a woman who comes in alone to write letters, always ordering hot chocolate. The manager is intrigued by her and wonders about her, not knowing that she notices him as well.  

The book is about the connections made in everyday ways - through her writing, to a friend who has moved overseas; to others in the shop connecting accidentally through small things; to the woman who receives the letters in Australia, and her life connecting in small ways to a food truck proprietor there. There is always food, and the constant theme of the ways that people's lives bump into one another and affect one another without any plan or intent. The story ranges widely, moving from the Marble Cafe to Australia, by following a chain of characters. A character from each story moves forward to be the main character in the next episode, and so all the stories and people are linked even if they don't know how. And then the story circles back to the Hot Chocolate woman and the cafe manager in the final chapter. 

This was soothing, expansive and I loved the concept. While it is brief and covers a lot of characters, I think that was the point - rather than digging in deeply to one life, it was showing the ways so many lives brush up against one another. I thought it was a delight, and of course wanted hot chocolate even in the midst of my summer! 

 

The Amberglow Candy Store

The Amberglow Candy Store / Hiyoko Kurisu
trans. from the Japanese by Matt Treyvaud
NY: Scribner, 2025, c2022.
208 p.

I enjoyed this unusual read! It falls into the same genre of Japanese novel that I've been reading a lot of lately, but it's a bit different. It features life lessons, a shop, melancholy friendships, for example, like many others, but it also includes a main character who is half-fox - a part of the otherworldly element of Japanese folklore. 

Kogetsu owns the Amberglow Candy Shop on Gloaming Lane, a strange shopping area that humans only stumble upon when they need it. Most of the shops are closed up, and people wander down this street until they find the candy store with its very handsome proprietor. They choose a candy that promises something - luck, confidence, relationship help and so on - and when they return to their normal lives they find that eating the candy really helps them. Most of the time it's a placebo effect, though: the solution has been in their grasp the whole time and the candy gives them the confidence to solve their own problem. 

Like many of these books, it's told in short chapters dealing with each character's encounter and resultant life lesson. It's a bit quirky, with some light humour thanks to Kogetsu's misunderstandings of human behaviour. And the magical element actually felt quite magical and ancient. I thought that this book had more of the feel of Miyazaki films or folklore inspired characters than any other Japanese novel I've read recently. I really enjoyed the feel of this one, it had a great atmosphere. And seeing people learn life lessons softly and without a lot of conflict was nice too. The final chapter gives more of Kogetsu's own story, and was a nice way to tie up this book, with an opportunity for him to also learn more about life. Enjoyable though a quiet and light read. 

 

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:

Apartment Women / Gu Byeong-mo
trans. from the Korean by Chi-Young Kim

To Read: 

If We Cannot Go at the Speed of Light / Kim Choyeop
trans. from the Korean by Anton Hur

The Seoul Letter Shop / Baek Seungyeon
trans. from the Korean by Clare Richards

Plant Lady / Minyoung Kang
trans. from the Korean by Shanna Tan

How to Hold Someone in Your Heart

 

How to Hold Someone In Your Heart / Mizuki Tsujimura
trans. from the Japanese by Yuki Tejima
NY: Scribner, 2026, c2019.
224 p.

Ok, so I enjoyed the first book in this series, Lost Souls Meet Under a Full Moon, so much that I immediately found book two in Libby and read it right away! This is a sweet series about 'the go-between', a young man who connects the dead and the living for final meetings. 

This book takes place a few years after the first volume. Ayumi is no longer a teenager; he's a young career man working for a wooden toy company, while still carrying out his duties as the go-between. Just like the first novel, though, he encounters five people he needs to connect with those deceased, and one friend who has sufferered a recent bereavement making Ayumi wonder if he should offer his services unasked for (in the end, no need). 

We have two mothers wanting to see their daughters who died too young, a young film star wanting to get some answers from his deadbeat dad who left their family when the boy was only two, an eccentric academic wanting to meet the subject of his lifelong historical studies, and an 85 yr old chef who has asked to meet a girl from his youth numerous time over the past decades but this time is accepted (with the deciding message Ayumi is asked to pass on to her: "the rascal Hachiya has turned eighty-five")

Each one brings some reflection on life, regrets, love, secrets, and so on -- but also some less emotional topics like what one's legacy will be -- for example, after his experience, the academic ponders if anyone will ask to see him when he is dead. This meeting also questions how truth gets passed down, and how reliable history is. I liked the inclusion of this less emotional meeting to balance out the rest. 

I also liked that this volume focused more on Ayumi and his own life and development, from his acceptance of his role and his place in his family, to his job and a potential romantic interest. It added more of a narrative throughline to this story, and I hope there will be another book in the series, too. I find this author's style thoughtful, mostly easy reading, great for comfort reading. 

Lost Souls Meet Under a Full Moon

Lost Souls Meet Under a Full Moon / Mizuki Tsujimura
trans. from the Japanese by Yuki Tejima
NY: Scribner, 2025, c2010.
256 p.

I'm not sure why there seem to be so many Japanese books about people meeting up with the dead, but there are quite a few that I've read recently. This is one that stuck with me, featuring a "go-between" who arranges meetings between the living and the dead. 

You only find the go-between if you are meant to, and you can then request a meeting with someone you want to talk to one more time. The go-between will pass on the message but the dead person may refuse, or they may have already spoken to someone -- and you only get one chance, either way. The living can only request it once, and the dead can only accept once, so they must be careful to choose wisely. 

In this book, we follow four characters all wanting to speak to someone deceased -- a young woman from Tokyo who wants to speak to a TV star who she didn't actually know, a self-important eldest son who wants to see his mother only to ask where the deeds to a plot of land are; a teenager blaming herself for her best friend’s death; and a sad businessman needing answers about why his fiancée disappeared days after he proposed.

Each story is a bit melancholy, although the one featuring the teen besties didn't go as I'd expected - still so much teen drama even after death! And there is some kind of lesson in each, as they seek closure (not always given). In each we learn more about the teenaged go-between, until more is shared about his story near the end. 

I liked this one; it was unexpected and well developed. The stories weren't predictable or saccharine, there was a bit of darkness, a bit of intrigue. The set-up was good and there is a second volume in this series that I'm going to search out too, and see if this conceit can hold up over another book. But this one is worth trying if you like this genre - pretty well written and good concept! 

 

Hooked

Hooked / Asako Yuzuki
trans. from the Japanese by Polly Barton 
NY: Ecco, 2026, c2015.
400 p.

This is another Japanese novel that looks at unequal relationships and includes social media's unrealities as part of the story. But this is much longer than Idol Burning, which I just talked about yesterday. 

In Hooked, Yuzuki follows Eriko, a young woman working for a fish importing company. She seems to have it all together - her career is successful (she even gets sent to Africa on a mission to find a Nile Perch processing plant for her company), she is well groomed and efficient, but there is something missing. She can not seem to connect with other women, despite really wanting a friend. She can be obsessive and overwhelm others, like her school friend who still lives nearby and seems to haunt her, showing up when least wanted, to remind Eriko of her previous actions. 

But now Eriko has found a friend -- a popular blogger, Shoko, who she's been following for a while, carefully leaving comments and getting to know her online persona. Eriko figures out where this blogger will be at a specific time, thanks to her meticulous study of the blog, and "runs into" her casually. Their friendship starts to grow, with dinners and coffee dates -- but Shoko starts to feel like Eriko is more of a stalker than a friend, and puts her off, starting a new spiral for Eriko. 

This was a great read, with some unhinged characters, and a look at personas and the realities beneath. Shoko's perfect blogging life, and her apparently solid marriage are shaken through these events; she's really not exactly who she says she is. And Eriko's facade is quickly shattered when she feels rejected. Lots of fascinating psychological content in both storylines! 

There are metaphors related to the Nile Perch that Eriko imports (an invasive species) and to social media and self-presentation, and everything kind of twines together. It's a bit of a domestic drama, with frenemies and toxic behaviours in abundance. But still some sympathies for these imperfect characters. It kept moving in directions I wasn't expecting, and I had to pay attention -- I found it compelling reading, with the 400 pages feeling much shorter. I liked her writing style and aesthetic, so will definitely have to go back and read her first book Butter, a best-seller about food and a female murderer.

Idol Burning

Idol Burning / Rin Usami
trans. from the Japanese by Asa Yoneda
NY: HarperVia, 2022, c2020.
144 p.

Another short novella, from a Japanese author interested in fandom and what it can do to a person's sense of self. I listened to this one, which I think worked really well - there are strings of social media comments included in the storyline and the way that the narrator read them made it seem so fresh and immediate. I know some readers haven't enjoyed this structural addition but as an audiobook I thought it was an interesting element.

The story follows Akari, a socially isolated teen with learning disabilities and difficult relationships. She withdraws from life, and from her family who struggles to help her. Her focus is on her 'oshi', Masaki, a pop idol. She writes a blog about him, scouring the internet and magazines for every detail about him, and has a following whose comments seem to give her the approval she needs. But then Masaki tumbles from his pedestal, accused of hitting a woman who is possibly his girlfriend. 

The way that this intense fandom affects both Masaki and Akari is explored in the narrative - they don't know one another but Akari's need to justify his actions and thus her own, is part of the parasocial fixation she has with him. The book looks at mental health, online fandom & its spaces, loneliness, teen alienation from life and many other similar things, all through the lens of oshi culture. 

I found it a good read, although some of the themes could have used a little more length in the narrative to be fleshed out, for more impact. Akari's life is described quietly, but gives the reader a strong impression of the crisis she's going through. Her isolation, partly self created, is dramatic and she finally has to hit bottom to realize it. I felt like the story mostly communicated this, although the reader has to be committed to the story arc as it does move a little slowly for such a short book. Still, I thought it illuminated a corner of life that I hadn't considered much before, and found lots to think about here. 

 

The Woman Dies

The Woman Dies / Aoka Matsuda
trans. from the Japanese by Polly Barton
NY: Europa, 2025, c2016.
160 p.

This was an entertaining read, a collection of 52 short stories (some only a few sentences long, flash fiction, really) all looking at the pervasive presence of sexism in Japanese society. Matsuda is not holding back, and tells her tales with both sharp edges and black humour.  I really enjoyed this book, there were such clever structural elements to admire, and the stories were a bit off kilter, requiring the reader to stop short and sometimes read over a story again to get the commentary clear. I love a read that both amuses and makes you think about your perceptions. 

I also enjoyed Matsuda's earlier collection of stories inspired by Japanese folklore, which I read in 2021 -- Where the Wild Ladies Are. That's a bit more traditional in format but has the same edge. I really recommend her books if you like a feminist sensibility that is both highly intelligent and sarcastic. 

This collection has a couple of longer pieces but mostly there are brief reflections and observations. The title refers to a piece remarking on the normalization of violence against women in film, which is something still seen in many films. The joy in this book was the structure and writing, for me, which added to the sense of social critique and skewed perspective. I thought the style and the content worked together to create a strong thematic line. Really liked this one, and raced through it, although I will probably go back and sit with some of the stories a bit longer to really reflect on them. After all, there are 52 pieces, one a week would be a good start to any intellectual week! 

Taiwan Travelogue

 

Taiwan Travelogue / Yang Shuang-Zi
trans. from the Mandarin by Lin King
read by Sarah Skaer
Old Saybrook, CT: Tantor, 2025, c2020.

I listened to the audiobook of this recent International Booker prize winner. It was pretty good, although some of the narrator's choices for voices of the different characters grated on me a bit. I got used to it after a while - it's long enough that you can become accustomed! 

It's the story of Aoyama Chizuko, a Japanese journalist and novelist who been invited to Taiwan in 1938,by the ruling Japanese government. She wants to get an understanding of this region so plans to stay for a year to get the real feeling of it. As part of this, she is assigned an interpreter - Chizuro is a young woman about her age, who even shares some of the characters in her name. They both love eating, so travel around the country eating local foods, among the official visits and readings that Aoyama must do as part of her contract there. She is delighted with her interpreter and wants to become close friends with her, but there is something that Chizuro always holds back. It takes until the end of the story for Aoyama to grasp why. 

This book was published in Mandarin, presenting itself as a translation of an old Japanese book. This is a clever way to distance the political climate of current Taiwan from Chinese politics but still make a strong point about colonialism and autonomy. It also shows clearly that colonialism is not only political or 'big picture' but that it affects intimate relationships just as much. 

So much for the ideas behind the book. What was my experience reading it? I felt it was a slow burn -- there is so much about food that I found myself getting bored. I think you have to be a real foodie to follow along with Aoyama's culinary experiments with excitement. However, there was enough other detail in the story that I knew there would be a payoff, so continued. I'm glad I did. The last couple of chapters made it all worth it. I can understand how food and regional cooking are also reflections of colonialism, and a visceral, daily way to show its effects. But the lengthy descriptions of food are just not highly interesting to me personally. 

Still, the characters and the relationships were worth following, and the book as a whole was a good read. Glad I was able to find this one to listen to this month! 

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 Dies / Aoko Matsuda
trans. from the Japanese by Polly Barton

To Read: 

Five Blessings for a Wedding / Maiko Seo
trans. from the Japanese by Laurel Taylor

Sakura / Kanako Nishi 
trans. from the Japanese by Allison Markin Powell

How to Use 3,000 Yen / Hika Harada
trans. from the Japanese by Alison Watts

Letters From Klara

 

Letters from Klara / Tove Jansson
trans. from the Swedish by Thomas Teal
read by Indira Varma
Copenhagen: Saga Egmont, 2024, c1991.

I like Tove Jansson's writing, and found this collection of short stories that I hadn't yet read; I'm glad I picked it up because I really enjoyed it. It contains 13 stories, and they are reflective of Jansson's concerns and style. 

The stories tackle the awkwardness of relationships and of existing in the world - something I feel like she's particularly good at. I think it's her clear unsentimental look at people's weakness, foibles, and inner lives that I always appreciate. She can be sardonic and hard in some ways, but also has an eye for the wry humour of life, and never mocks her characters. 

I thought all these stories were strong, with characters to draw you in, even though there was no strong thematic line to the collection. The settings are mainly in Finland but there a few which range across Europe, depending on the story. There are artists, mothers and daughters, old women who are still insisting on being a person, young men with existential crises, old schoolmates reuniting (with resulting cringe), and more. Each story was compelling but there were a couple that really stood out to me. 

The title story was fun, although light - if you've read Virginia Evan's hit The Correspondent you'll appreciate this little story alongside that one. "Party Games" follows a group of women who reunite when one of them finds out that their girls school is closing - it's a handful of their classmates having tea at one person's apartment and it is as awkward as you might imagine, with, as Jansson puts it, "do you remembers" taking over a lot of the conversation. But their girlhood likes and dislikes also reappear. So understandable! "Trip to the Riviera" follows a cantankerous older woman and her daughter, who've gone on vacation to a cheap pension on the Riviera, where they are definitely fish out of water, but the older woman is determined to be herself. 

"Emmelina" was the one that I was most drawn into. In this one, a strange young woman inherits a flat from a woman who has just died. The man living below her is having a crisis and befriends Emmelina, although she seems to be there just as a receptacle for all his angst. But when he finally decides to move on from his depression and face life again, Emmelina leaves, telling him she won't be back for a long time. She's uncanny and this story was a delight, with the side characters being some of the best parts. 

There are never heavy plots to these stories, they are more about people just living a bit, vignette style. I enjoy this a lot, and this collection delivered. If you like more contemplative stories looking at a slice of life, often without any real conclusions to be drawn, you'll like this too. 

Killing Stella

Killing Stella / Marlen Haushofer
trans. from the German by Shaun Whiteside
NY: New Directions, 2025, c1958.
88 p.

Another novella which I found through my library! This one was a must read for me since I read The Wall in 2024 and haven't stop thinking about it since. 

This is an earlier story by Haushofer, and it's both shorter and more traditional. So, not quite as much of an impact, but still a lot to think about in such a brief narrative. It feels like a story from the 50s, with its traditional roles of accepting  housewife to a rich, philandering man leading the storyline. 

But it also condemns this self-satisfied pampered life, highlighting the harms caused by self-absorbed rich people keeping their heads down to make their own lives easier. Still timely somehow. 

Anna, the housewife, is the narrator, and so we only have her view of things. She's married to Richard, and they have two children - Annette, who is very much like Richard, and Wolfgang, the son who Anna smothers with her displaced need for affection and companionship. 

Into this household comes Stella, an awkward and naive 19 year old, the daughter of Anna's old friend - actually a frenemy as Anna admits she really can't stand her. Stella needs a place to live while attending school and so moves into their spare room. Anna finds her mousy and retiring, and encourages her to dress more prettily, to become more attractive. And inevitably, Richard takes advantage of this (a question to the reader: does Anna know this will happen? Is she preparing Stella for Richard? As Anna is telling the tale, she of course sounds blameless).

But Richard's attentions are fickle and short-lived, and soon Stella is distraught, unable to say anything to anyone, since Anna is her only confidant. And shortly after that, Stella dies in a traffic accident. Of course it was an accident. 

The story is one long letter of justification, of Anna rewriting the events to explain and understand what happened. She does reflect a little and takes some of the blame, but it's clear throughout that she is defending herself and her decades long patterns of compliance and inaction. And there may be a nod or two the wider effects of both of these habits, in the German setting during the previous decade of wartime (the book was published in 1958). This narrative setup gives a sense of claustrophobia, Anna rarely mentioning anything outside her domestic sphere. 

It's interesting to read this and compare some of the author's themes to her later masterpiece The Wall. Anna being left alone emotionally even in the midst of a household is made more explicit in The Wall, with the main character a woman who is literally alone, the last person in the world as far as she knows. In any case, I did find this read had a lot to dig into and enjoyed reading more by this author. 

 

Dead Weight

Dead Weight / Hildur Knutsdottir
translated from the Icelandic by Mary Robinette Kowal
NY: Tor, 2026, c2025.
152 p.

This was a very unexpected read, a short novel that I found in my library system and grabbed because of WIT Month. It's an Icelandic story but an author who is new to me. 

Sometimes these random discoveries are just the thing! I was shocked and surprised by this one, all in the best ways. For something so short, it really packed a wallop, and the ending was on point. 

Unnur is a solitary woman, happy with her job and single life, but one day a cat appears in her apartment. She puts it out but it appears again. And as it turns out, it's a pregnant cat who gives birth to just one kitten in her bedroom. 

Unnur tries to do the right thing and find the owner, to return this cat who's decided that Unnur's home is a great place to settle into. She discovers that the owner is a young woman, Asta, who desperately wants her cat but thinks it would be safer with Unnur. Why? Asta's home life is unsettled, to say the least. 

Unnur doesn't have many friends, and Asta needs one - they start developing a kind of friendship, with Unnur feeling protective of both Asta and her cat. She starts to realize that Asta's boyfriend is a problem. And in her mind, problems need to be dealt with. 

I didn't predict this storyline, and was genuinely surprised by the plot as it progressed. I really liked the characters - the story is told from Unnur's perspective alone, we are inside her head for the whole book and so things surprise us as much as they do her. This has been called a "cathartic horror story" in publisher blurbs, and I think they got that spot on. The female rage driving the action, and Unnur's no-nonsense reactions feel believable and satisfying. I read this in one go - you can't stop, the story is plainly told but propulsive. It's definitely a one-sitting read. Recommended! 

Only a Little While Here

 

Only a Little While Here / Maria Ospina
trans. from the Spanish by Heather Cleary
NY: Scribner, 2026, c2023.
205 p.

I read Ospina's first collection of stories, Variations on the Body, in 2021 and was very impressed with it. So I was glad to see that this novel was available in time for this year's WIT Month reading. This is a quiet book, which I'd call a collection of linked short stories, more than a novel. But it was also a read that I appreciated and admired. 

It looks at the natural world, and how we are all one -- humans, bugs, birds, animals whether domestic or wild -- it's all one. It has a philosophical bent, a quiet narrative that is still honest and full of the natural violence of nature. Another element she investigates through this look at animal life is migration - what are borders, really, and who belongs where? Some of our characters are also migrants, and this plays into the overall shape of this book.

Each section opens with a selection of poems, excerpts etc from many writers who illustrate her points. The first, and where the title comes from, is a poem by the Aztec King Nezahualcóyotl.

“Truly do we live on earth?

Not forever on earth; only a little while here.

Although it be jade, it will be broken,

Although it be gold, it is crushed,

Although it be quetzal feather, it is torn asunder.

Not forever on earth; only a little while here.”

 

I've never seen this poem before, but it really hit me. It's such a beautiful way to describe the essence of our life here. This sets the tone for the rest of the book, in its sense that life is short and impermanent, and should be honoured and appreciated. 

The four sections of this book follow a migrating tanager, a beetle, a porcupine, and two dogs. And we see some of them as passing characters in the others' stories. The themes are carried through each story, with the characters slowly connecting for the reader, although the characters don't see it. But then that's kind of the point: we don't necessarily see the connections that exist in our daily lives, but we are all intimately connected, linked, a part of nature and everything we do is a part of the world. And as humans we often think that we are the only ones who live here and can do whatever we like without any thought of other lives. This book gently points that out and reminds us that we are also at the mercy of our planet. 

There is both melancholy and hope in many of the stories, and it's so beautiful -- you need to take this one slowly and savour it. If you love skilled writing and thoughtful reflection on life and impermanence, this is one for you. 

Sea Now: a Dutch disaster novel

 

Sea Now / Eva Meijer
trans. from the Dutch by Anne Thompson Melo
San Francisco, CA: Two Lines Press, 2025, c2022.
180 p.

I found this book in my library system -- I have not heard of it anywhere and was surprised by it. It's set in the Netherlands, where the sea has reached full tide but is not retreating. In fact it's getting higher and higher, by about a kilometer a day. 

This is downplayed for a while, until it becomes clear that Something is going on. The government reacts, finally, but too late to save low-lying areas. Internal refugees are everywhere, but then they have to keep moving -- some to Germany and France, some to family elsewhere, but the key is that they can not stay in the Netherlands. Even the big cities with all their art, culture, and population, are going to end up underwater. 

Despite this crisis event, the narrative itself is very calm and told quietly, almost bureaucratically, in the first half. The reactions of people vary, from those leaving immediately, to those who call themselves "The Remainers", and believe that the government info is all a conspiracy and they'll stay where they are. There is a group of young people who start up a protest group, "Sea Now!", which eventually peters out when the sea itself proves undeniably unstoppable. 

The second part of the book follows a few of the characters who decide to go back into the flooded areas to look for family members. They meet some Remainers who are living on tall rooftops and looking after themselves, and other stragglers on ships. They feel the strangeness of the sea and a city's infrastructure underwater. The new ocean seems to be a little more self-aware than before, too, with all sorts of odd and unusual things happening on this journey. 

It's a fascinating read, with an ending that I wasn't expecting. The rhythms of the story follow the relentless flow of the water, and the ending does too. There isn't a clear political message to the story -- to me it feels more like a quiet apocalypse, a change that humans aren't asked about or considered in. I couldn't stop reading it, and noted a few passages to copy out - the writing is reflective and yet slightly acerbic, a mix that caught me right away. This was a great accidental find, I would recommend it for the thoughtful reader who enjoys character and writing style; there is a lot to talk about here. 

Repetition by Vigdis Hjorth

Repetition / Vigdis Hjorth
trans. from the Norwegian by Charlotte Barslund
NY: Verso Books, 2026, c2023.
144 p.

This is a short novel by Hjorth, featuring a narrator looking back at her 16th year, when her home life is constrained by an overbearing, demanding mother whose extreme anxiety overshadows the narrator's experiences. 

She has a group of girlfriends that she is able to still do normal teenage things with, if she organizes and hides their activities under a shell of studying in 'no-boy' zones. But of course they are really going out to parties and getting drunk and making out with random older boys. 

Our narrator finds herself a boyfriend of a kind, and they make out a few times, with one of the most awkward sex scenes ever concluding their short-lived relationship. This is discovered by her parents, causing a violent, emotional flare-up, and a permanent crack in their family life. She is isolated, even though she still lives at home for a few more years, and kept from a relationship with her siblings as well - there is nobody to talk to and get any sense of their interpretations of the parental behaviours. 

There is a dark secret in the family past that this book circles around, avoiding naming it although it's clear to the reader. This shorter story is another approach to the story told in Will & Testament, and probably has more resonance if you've read that one. But it does stand alone, and the atmosphere of the story really evokes the suffocating sense of being 16 and in uncongenial circumstances, testing things out, trying to find yourself, understand life, and so on. The title is reflected both in the repeated routines of her days, and of the repeated family patterns shown through the story. The writing also reflects this, with certain phrases and images used again and again. 

I found it absorbing, as a real character study with lots of internal movement even if the outer world seemed static and repetitive. Really interesting. 

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:

Taiwan Travelogue / Yang Shuang-Zi
trans. from the Mandarin by Lin King

To Read: 

Small Comfort / Ia Genberg
trans. from the Swedish by Kira Josefsson

Heart Lamp / Banu Mushtaq
trans. from the Kannada by Deepa Bhasthi

A System so Magnificent it is Blinding / Amanda Svensson
trans. from the Swedish by Nichola Smalley

She Who Remains

She Who Remains / Rene Karabash
trans. from the Bulgarian by Izidora Angel
Southport, ME: Sandorf Passage, 2026, c2018.
152 p.

This was a shortlisted title on the International Booker list this year, which is how I first came across it. It's a novella written in Bulgarian and set in Albania, in the mountains where the strict rule of the Kanun shapes the lives of families, Bekija escapes an unwanted arranged marriage by becoming a sworn virgin. This is a status in which a woman gives up all her womanly attributes and swears lifelong celibacy, to live as a man. 

This decision destroys up her family, divides her from the person she loves, and creates a dark and lonely life for many years. The story begins as Bekija, now Matija, is telling their life story to a journalist who has travelled to their village to interview the last known Sworn Virgin. The narrative is thus quite stream of consciousness, or confessional, jumping around in time and focusing in on Matija's life and experiences. 

We slowly get a wider picture of everything that led to the present, and in the end get a glimpse into a new future for Matija as well. This story was so unfamiliar, and so beautifully written, that I just couldn't stop reading. It was shocking and eventful, without becoming melodramatic. It was packed with strong feeling and repressed emotion. And I felt that this character was explored deeply, even in the constraints of the short length of the novel. This is the author's debut novel, although she is an experienced screenwriter and actor. You can feel the influence of those here, as the book has sharp and unforgettable imagery along with the narrative line. Really impressed by this one, so much in such a short book.