The Book of Disappearance by Ibtisam Azem, translated from Arabic by Sinan Antoon
Speculative and meditative, haunting and deeply humane, Azem’s second novel is an exceptional exercise in memory-making, history, and psycho-geography. The premise – the overnight disappearance of all Palestinians – is at once ambitious and audacious, shocking and unsettling. The author dares us to imagine, and from this place of imagination erupts a challenge: to read differently, against the grain. The book alternates between the perspectives of Alaa (whose grandmother was displaced during the Nakba) and his neighbour-friend Ariel (a liberal Zionist journalist), between past and present. Azem’s strength is in having fun with a conceit that’s not for the faint-hearted. We found that this palimpsestic and potent novel – originally published over a decade ago, and translated into English with a coolness and spareness – offered newfound socio-political, moral and emotional resonances and implications in the current climate.
On the Calculation of Volume I by Solvej Balle, translated from Danish by Barbara J. Haveland
On the Calculation of Volume I takes a potentially familiar narrative trope – a protagonist inexplicably stuck in the same day – and transforms it into a profound meditation on love, connectedness and what it means to exist, to want to be alive, to need to share one’s time with others. The sheer quality of the sentences was what struck us most, rendered into English with deft, invisible musicality by the translator. This book presses its mood, its singular time signature and its philosophical depth into the reader. You feel you are in it, which is sometimes unnerving, sometimes soothing, and this effect lingers long after the book is finished.
There’s a Monster Behind the Door by Gaëlle Bélem, translated from French by Karen Fleetwood and Laëtitia Saint-Loubert
If there ever was a need to prove how a translation can vividly recreate a sense of place and time and personhood, Gaëlle Bélem’s There’s a Monster Behind the Door would be exhibit A, with translators Karen Fleetwood and Laëtitia Saint-Loubert brought in to testify. In prose that throbs with verve, humour and pain, this narrative set on the island of Réunion brings to life a narrator beset with the history of her family and her people, who tries to use the power of language and literature to transcend her circumstances. While she fails within the story, the book succeeds – spectacularly – as a novel.
Solenoid by Mircea Cărtărescu, translated from Romanian by Sean Cotter
Solenoid is uncategorisable epic of interconnected realities, a book that seems to be about… everything. On a single page you might be flung from intimate insights into the banality of a teacher’s life to grand theoretical re-imaginings of the universe, to microscopic insights into mites, matter, love or letter-forms. It’s a mind-boggling, bravura and ceaselessly entertaining book, unlike anything else. The translation struck us as word perfect, a feat of attention to detail that transports us with total control from Communist Romania to the far sci-fi reaches of the imagination and back again.