Women in Translation Month 2025 wrap up

Women in Translation Month was such a good way to concentrate my read around the world project and a good way to clear a fraction of my TBR pile. This August I read 11 books in translation and 7 were by female authors.

The books I read were:

In Late Summer by Magdalena Blazevic, translated from Croatian by Andelka Raguz

The Murder of Halland by Pia Juul, translated from the Danish by Martin Aitken

Free Ride by Noraly Schoenmaker, translated from the Dutch by Bo-Elise Brummelkamp

Just a Little Dinner by Cecile Tlili, translated from the French by Katherine Gregor

The Ex-Boyfriend's Favourite Recipe Funeral Committee by Saki Kawahiro, translated from the Japanese by Yuka Maeno

Dinner at the Night Library by Hika Harada, translated from Japanese by Philip Gabriel 

Byobu by Ida Vitale, translated from the Spanish by Sean Manning

While I enjoyed the two Japanese books I don't really have enough to say about them for separate blog posts, and there are only two books in Japanese on the list as one came through for a project after I'd already read a book from Japan.

In Late Summer was an incredibly powerful read about the Bosnian war of 1993 - the style owed a little to Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones but that was a good thing. I found it quite hard hitting because as a family we'd visited rural parts of, what was then, Yugoslavia in 1990 and I could 'see' the book all too vividly.

The Murder of Halland and Byobu  both took me far out of my reading comfort zone and to be honest neither did a huge amount for me so I will be looking for more books from both Denmark and Uruguay.

I loved and reviewed Just a Little Dinner during August and reviewed Free Ride too!

I was pleased to see that the translator is being listed on the cover more, and this includes newer titles from Peirene, who I was surprised hadn't listed Aitken on the cover, and this year 4 of my #WIT books were also translated by a woman.

Micro Review 25 (2025) / Women in Translation Month

Just a Little Dinner by Cecile Tlili, translated by Katherine Gregor. (Foundry Editions)

I read and loved Foundry Edition's first book - Brandy Sour - last year, and since then I've been looking at their beautiful covers and interesting sounding books regularly. I gave in and subscribed to the publisher's 2025 list at the start of August and from my parcel this book was the one that practically leapt into my hands screaming 'read me next'!

In tired, hot Paris at the end of August, a group of friends, who’d rather still be at the sea, meet for a dinner in one couple’s apartment.

Taking us behind the shutters of the Sixth Arrondissement, with a cast of characters that both delight and repel, fractured relationships, manipulation, bad behaviour and desperation are all laid bare in this very contemporary take on a Parisian huis clos story. 

What starts as just a little dinner ends up having monumental consequences for everyone.

The plot unfurls over just a couple of hours but is an incredibly tense read as the writing (and translation) made me feel I was an invisible person in the flat with the four characters watching the car crash of a dinner party unfold - I could smell the food and feel both the heat and the tension completely!

None of the characters is entirely sympathetic but by the end I certainly knew who I really wanted to slap and who I wanted to hug!

This is a book that will stay with me for a long time and one I really recommend. I can't wait to start more of the books that came in my parcel, that's for sure, and how nice to see the translators name on the front of the book in almost the same size type as the author's!

Micro Review 24 (2025) / Women in Translation Month

Free Ride by Noraly Schoenmaker, translated by Bo-Elise Brummelkamp (Canelo)

I think that this book popped on to my radar after reading Sovietistan by Erika Fatland (translated by Kari Dickson) and enjoying the accounts of female travellers in more obscure or intrepid locations - why should men have all of the adventures?

When the book arrived at the library there was no clue that this book would qualify as a read for Women in Translation Month - poor Brummelkamp gets no mention anywhere in the book apart from a tiny line on the copyright page and this is in a tiny type size. I am assuming that this, lets call it, discretion rather than obfuscation, is because Schoenmaker's YouTube films are all in English and the publishers didn't want to put any readers off by announcing that it was a translation.

Like so many big trips Schoenmaker's was kickstarted by a personal upheaval but became so much more adventurous once her travels had started: 

Noraly Schoenmaker was a thirty-something geologist living in the Netherlands when she learned that her live-in partner had been having a long-term affair. Suddenly without a place to stay, she decided to quit her job and jet off to India in search of a new beginning. Her plans were dashed when she fell quickly and helplessly in love: with a motorcycle. Behind the handlebars, she felt alive and free – nimble enough to trace the narrowest paths, powerful enough to travel the longest of roads.

She first rode toward the Pacific, through the jungles of Myanmar and Thailand, then into Malaysia. Rather than satisfy her appetite for the open road, this ride only piqued it. She shipped her bike to Oman, at the base of the Arabian Peninsula, and embarked on a journey through Iran, across Turkmenistan along its border with Afghanistan, over the snowy peaks of Central Asia and into Europe, all the way back home to the Netherlands.

She covered remote and utterly unfamiliar territory; broke down on impossibly steep mountains; and pushed too many miles along empty roads, farther and farther from civilization. But through her travels, she discovered the true beauty of the world – the kindness of its people, the simplicity of its open spaces, as well as her own inner strength.

Now I've never even sat pillion on a moped let alone tried riding a powerful motorbike in such varied terrain and I'm afraid this book hasn't enticed me to try either, long distance motorcycle touring is not for me in any way shape or form (which my family will be pleased to hear as my lack of balance and coordination is legendary!).

Schoenmaker's writing also didn't inspire me to think at all of exploring the countries she visited, probably because her book isn't really about the places she visited - it is all the journey.

In normal circumstances I'd never have reviewed this book but I was so incensed that the translator wasn't mentioned I wanted to acknowledge Brummelkamp's work!

 

Micro Review 23 (2025) / Women in Translation Month

 

The Lake by Bianca Bellova, translated by Alex Zucker. (Parthian Books)

I picked this book up for my reading the world project as it is by a Czech author and I hadn't crossed the Czech Republic off my map, that it also counted for ~WITMonth was a bonus!

I wasn't sure that the book was going to be for me from the synopsis but the whole point of my project is to read more widely (and occasionally out of my comfort zone): 

A dystopian page-turner about the coming of age of a young hero, which won the 2017 EU Prize for Literature.

A fishing village at the end of the world. A lake that is drying up and, ominously, pushing out its banks. The men have vodka, the women troubles, the children eczema to scratch at.

Born into this unforgiving environment, Nami, a young boy, embarks on a journey with nothing but a bundle of nerves, a coat that was once his grandfather's and the vague idea of searching for his mother, who disappeared from his life at a young age. To uncover the greatest mystery of his life, he must sail across and walk around the lake and finally dive to its bottom. 

Boy was this bleak! At no point could anyone catch a break in the story but all the way through I was kept hoping for the one glimmer of hope/happiness that would redeem the book so it was incredibly well written/translated.

It didn't help that at first I was reading the book as an allegory for the Cold War and expected at some point for the narrative to become more hopeful, so much of the book seemed to be an about the Soviet Union's treatment of the Aral Sea (which I'd just been reading about!) for example. It wasn't until I'd finished the book and then seen that it was a dystopian story it made more sense!

I'm not sure I recommend this book, but I can admire it and it was certainly different to everything else I've read either for my project or for Women In Translation month!

Micro Review 22 (2025) / Women in Translation Month

 

When the Museum is Closed by Emi Yagi (trans. Yuki Tejima) Vintage Publishing

My second read for Women In Translation was a relatively short book from Japan, but whilst it still had elements of whimsy it was in a totally different way from the When the Coffee Gets Cold... books and the others like it.

I was very much drawn in by the synopsis:

Rika Horiuchi’s new part-time job is to converse with a statue of the Venus de Milo – in Latin – every Monday, when the museum is closed.

Initially reluctant, Rika starts to enjoy her strange new job: she and Venus talk about everything. They fall in love, and (with the help of a statue of Artemis’ hunting dog) eventually break free.

And I really loved this part of the book, in idle moments I've often wondered what would happen if paintings/statues did come to life once no one was looking at them (a la Toy Story) and Yagi took this idea and ran with it. I loved that Venus de Milo needed someone to talk to because all of the other statues in her museum room were created in Greek studios and so couldn't speak Latin. Even the bonkers ending made sense in this world.

I was however left very confused by Rika's life in the real world and her yellow mac. However slowly and carefully I read the book I just didn't understand the points being articulated here. 

By taking the book as a long short story about Rika and Venus I found a book I really liked but I wish that I could have gained the full experience. Definitely an interesting Japanese translation and a world away from the cat/book/coffee ones that seem to be everywhere. 

Micro Review 21 (2025) / Women In Translation Month

 

When the Cranes Fly South by Lisa Ridzen, translated by Alice Menzies (Transworld Publishing).

August is Women in Translation month and my reading for this has started strongly with the Waterstones' Debut Fiction Prize shortlisted book When the Cranes Fly South,

I confess when I chose this book from the shortlist I wasn't aware that it was a translated book but I did cheer (quietly - I was in the library after all) when I saw that it was a Swedish book.

The publisher blurb for the book warns you that you're in for an emotional rollercoaster of a read:

Bo is determined to live his own life in his own way. But his son has other ideas...

Bo lives a quiet existence in his small rural village in the north of Sweden. He is elderly and his days are punctuated by visits from his care team and his son.

Fortunately, he still has his rich memories, phone calls with his best friend Ture, and his beloved dog Sixten for company.

Only now his son is insisting the dog must be taken away. The very same son that Bo is wanting to mend his relationship with before his time is up. The threat of losing Sixten stirs up a whirlwind of emotions and makes Bo determined to resist and find his voice.

The book covers a fairly short time frame and is broken up into small chapters each prefaced with the notes Bo's carers leave in his log book and between these notes and Bo's memories we get to know what has made Bo, and his son, the way they are. 

I raced through this book because I was so fully and emotionally involved with all the characters, and yes - more than once I had a lump in my throat. However while this is quite a sad book it is ultimately heart warming and an excellent read.

It would have been nice for a translated book to win the WDFP but I did really love the winner (Lucy Steed's The Artist) when I read it earlier in the year.

Thoughts about books and their covers

 

A response to an online discussion

While I am spending a lot more time reading and far less on social media sometimes a discussion there will spark some really interesting conversations and debate. There was one fascinating chat a few months ago about the use of quotes from authors appearing all over book covers rather than a summary of the book, this in turn took a look at what we mean by 'book blurb.' 

The one that has caught my eye and imagination is one about book covers/jackets.

A small independent press has decided to stop using illustrations on their book covers and instead is giving them all a distinctive look with the publisher logo, book title, author, and if appropriate the translator, on the front cover. All the books are a different colour but they have a very uniform look. 

This hasn't been popular!

I however really like the style - which harks back to the original Penguin paperbacks and also reflects the current style in French publishing.

Books that give nothing away from a quick glance at the cover always intrigue me and I am far more likely to pick them up and find out more - I've always said that the best proofs I read in my bookselling career were the ones that were almost blank with just the title and author visible. 

This really worked for new authors, and to encourage me to read new genres. We do judge books by their covers and I confess that I'm not drawn to some styles used for several genres but when I've read them from a blank cover they've (occasionally) been better than I expected and I've been pleased I tried them.

The uniform books also look really good as a collection on a shelf - my Persephone Books bookcase is my pride and joy, and I love how my new books from Foundry Press look. 

The books from the British Library Women Writers series are another example of a house style looking stunning when put together, and these are more like the books that sparked the debate, in that they are all different colours but uniquely form part of a series via their branding. My love of the style has led me to buy all of these books as soon as they are published, despite only having read about a quarter of them so far. 

I'd be very upset if any of these publishers changed their style and started to put illustrated scenes on their books, and I really dislike the more mass market books that Persephone have produced 

I'd never have picked this up off a display, unlike the grey covers

Some readers in the online discussions made the point that when publishers just use one style of cover it can put them off picking a book up. The reasoning here is because they've read one from that style before and disliked it and so assume that they won't like anything from that publisher/series.

This argument resonated with me far more...

Although they come from a whole variety of publishers books in certain genres are all given similar (and interchangeable) covers. I am guessing that the aim here is for people (possibly not frequent readers) who have enjoyed a book to easily find another one they've enjoyed.

For me however they act as a warning that they are books that aren't to my taste and I instantly gloss over them and look for the more intriguing covers!

Loosing imaginative covers for completely plain one has the downside that publishers will no longer need as many cover artists and designers, but also it might just stop the rise of the AI designed book jacket, and also images that in no way represent what is the content of the book...

We do all judge a book by the cover, and no book jacket is going to be loved by everybody - just like its contents won't appeal to everyone - but it has to be said that I am with the minority here. I like the plain covers and the distinct publisher brands as these introduce me to some real surprised, and in a way I even like the distinctive genre branding as it helps me avoid books I know I'm likely to not enjoy!

Now enough pontificating about the look of books and time to read some - it is now August and thus time for one of my favourite campaigns - Women In Translation Month!

Micro Review 20 (2025) and some related thoughts

 

That Librarian by Amanda Jones (Bloomsbury USA)

I've always been interesting in the concept of book banning as it is a phenomenon I didn't come across very often as a child/teenager. I was very lucky to have parents who let me read whatever I wanted and when a librarian (shall we say) questioned one of my choices my dad insisted I be allowed to borrow it.

When I was working on events within the library service we would try to tie in with the ALA Banned Books Week to highlight the books that had been challenged and we did also try to hold events around the issue.

I'm lucky that at present the book banning movement hasn't got too much traction in the UK but after reading about the challenges that Amanda Jones had faced (and is continuing to face) on social media and in the news I was very keen to read her book about the issue.

I read it several months ago now, and have been trying hard to process everything and to also to work out how to talk about it sanely and without descending in to a full on rant.

Yesterday changed that with the news that a county council in the UK has started to remove books that they don't thing are appropriate after complaints from just one customer. And just as in Jones' case the person removing the book isn't even from the district where the book was seen...

There is more to the story than the headline as the book in question was never catalogued as a children's book and it wasn't on display in a children's section (shelves in the adult area of the library can be multi-coloured too you know!) but the posturing and celebrating of this book removal is vile and definitely the thin edge of of the wedge.

All I can say is read up about book banning in America and especially about the struggles that Jones has faced - really rub salt in the wound and borrow her book from the library! And above all when you see stories like this protest however you can.

My dad was posting Pastor Niemoller's poem a lot yesterday and he's right - if we don't protest these small acts where will it go, and who will stand up for freedom?

First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist
Then they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Socialist
Then they came for the trade unionists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a trade unionist
Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Jew
Then they came for me
And there was no one left
To speak out for me

Reading the World update

 

My scratch off map is becoming far more colourful and my reading life is really expanding.

While I am reading a lot of books in translation or from authors living in a country I am also counting some travel writing in my project.

Some of these been accounts of journeys made in locations (Sovietistan by Erika Fatland) and some of the books have been from people who've settled in an area and are writing about their new lives (In Arabian Nights by Tahir Shah) and while I do want to read in translation where possible my bank balance isn't bottomless and I don't want to narrow my borders as I am trying to explore them!

Because my map does mark all of the US states, Canadian provinces, and Australian states I have expanded my challenge to include a book from each of these  - but I do wish that India and China has also been split up as they are such diverse countries it feels wrong to just read one book from these places and cross off the whole country!

This mix of fiction/translation/non fiction is working well for me so far and it has to be said that as this is the way Daunt Books organise their travel sections I feel I am in good company with this approach.

Some of the top reads from the past 6 months have been:

• Sovietistan: A Journey Through Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan by Erika Flatland. Translated from the Norwegian by Kari Dickson
• Theft by Abdulrazak Gurnah (Zanzibar and Tanzania) 
• Chopping Onions on My Heart by Samantha Ellis (Iraq)
• My Pen is the Wing of a Bird (Afghanistan) Translated from various languages by a variety of people.
• The Wager and the Bear by John Ironmonger (Greenland)
• Elegy, Southwest by Madeleine Watts (California, Nevada, Arizona & Utah)
• That Librarian - Louisiana 
• Between Two Rivers - Moudhy Al-Rashid (Mesopotamia)

Not all my reading has been focussed on this project and my top six books so far this year are:

• Between Two Rivers by Moudhy Al-Rashid
• Mythica by Emily Hauser
• Florrie by Anna Trench
• When the Moon Hits Your Eye by John Scalzi
• The Eights by Joanna Miller
• The Wager and the Bear by John Ironside

Picking these books was great fun - I scanned down my book journal and picked the ones that have stayed with me the most for whatever reason and/or are the ones I've recommended to other people the most!

Micro Review 19 (2025)

 

My Pen is the Wing of A Bird - by 18 Afghan Women with various translators. (Quercus)

In my quest to read a book set in every country in the world I've quickly noticed that when it comes to countries with a violent recent history it is easy to find books by people writing only about the violence either in history/politics or fiction and far too often these come from a Western (saviour?) point of view.

On a recent trip to the wonderful travel section in Daunts Marylebone I was really excited to find some very different types of writing and as soon as I saw this one - written at great risk by Afghan women - I knew that I had to have it.

It is a collection of short stories about life in Afghanistan under many different rulers over the past 100 years and for me I found it really lifted a curtain into everyday lives, and showed the repeated oppression women, but to a certain extent all Afghanis, have experienced.

As with all collections there are some stories that didn't appeal as much to me, and just because this book is by women do not for an instant think that it won't show all aspects of life including some pretty graphic violent scenes.

Some stories did make me smile, others moved me almost to tears, and plenty appalled me or made me angry. 

Sadly I can't see life getting better for anyone in the country anytime soon but I hope that the authors (and translators) of this book remain safe and that the book is read widely. 

Rwanda is another book where I've not wanted to read (directly) about the Genocide in 1994 and again Daunts came to the rescue with a book by a Rwandan author focussing on the traditional legends of the country which I'm looking forward to reading a lot.