Skip to main content

Book fair part 2 - What should I read? / Feira do livro segundo parte - O que devo ler?

I went back to the book fair a second time. 

We're on a budget. And we've moved house three times in the last two years so we know very well the weight and the volume of all the things we own. Two reasons to not to buy books. But the mass of books gathered at the fair creates a territory that I want to step into it. 

I approached a stall with attractive-looking books; attractive to me that is, which means uncoated paper, strong visual design, the absence of photographs on the cover, stitched and folio-bound pages (not glued and perfect bound). Yes yes yes – judgments, books, covers – I know. 

I let my gaze slide over all the slim volumes of poetry, the hefty art books. Then I stepped closer, took a breath and asked the bookseller What should I read?

It's a daft question, too broad to make any sense. The answer depends entirely on what you’ve read already, on what you want to know, on what you want to avoid knowing. I added that I was learning Portuguese. That I wasn't ready for Saramago or Eça de Queiroz. That I wanted suggestions of books or authors.

The bookseller’s response was generous and sincere. She asked for more context: what genres did I like? Poetry? Biography? I said poetry, then forgot the word for novel, and so instead I said short stories.

She laid out three suggestions. I examined them slowly. Each one seemed rich and suitable. I tried to memorise the titles and the authors. Then I took a photo, hoping that the bookseller wouldn't notice. I feel guilty about taking the advice whilst keeping my commitment not to buy anything. 

Imagine that literature in Portuguese is a forest. I’m skirting the edges. I told the first bookseller next to nothing. Her suggestions were based on her own tastes. Any book will offer a pathway into the forest. But I linger at the edge in a frenzied state of indecision. It’s the same state I enter when the rest of the family is out for the day: the numerous possibilities lift me and hold me.

I made the same request at another stall. This time the bookseller held onto each book that she recommended, cradling it. I couldn't get a photo or jot down the names. She recommended a young poet, only in her thirties. Then she asked me if I knew the writer whose life’s work was being honoured by the book fair. A fellow browser joined in and told me I should read de Mello Breyner Andresen, any thing by her is worth reading! 

Any book will take me into the unknown territory, but before I set off I want someone to tell me I’m on a good path. It doesn’t seem to matter who the advice comes from, whether I know them or not, whether they know me. Somehow advice from a stranger removes part of the unknown. 

Note:
The two publishers whose stalls I visited were Imprensa Nacional e Antígona
The authors and books they recommended were:
  Rui Lage, Estrada Nacional (INCM, coleção Plural, 2016)
  Monica Vieira-Auer, Antes ontem que amanha (INCM, 2021)
  Urbano Tavares Rodrigues, A Natureza do acto criador (INCM, 2011)
  Andreia C. Faria – I couldn't remember the title the bookseller told me, it may have been Alegria para o fim do mundo, (Porto Editora, 2022)
  Ana Luisa Amaral – translations of Louise Gluck
  Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Phatic rhythm

My boss likes to talk. He doesn’t need an interlocutor, he needs an audience. As there’s not much call to respond during these daily discourses it’s possible to pay attention to how he structures his speech. Linguistics uses the term phatic communication to describe speech that has a social function rather than an informative one. The Open University describes phatic openings to conversations as an ‘invaluable means of establishing relations before getting down to the real purpose of the encounter’. Here are some of the phatic openings that my boss and other colleagues use (I live in Portugal so these phrases are in Portuguese; I've put an approximate translation in brackets after each one): Eh pá (Hey), Pá (Hey), Olha (Look), Ora bem (Well then), Pronto (Ready), É assim (It’s like this). These are often the first thing uttered during an exchange. They request the other person’s attention and signal that things are ready to roll. They mean Please listen to me; I have somethi...

Apple tree is the best translation for ameixoeira

I have been completing first drafts of the last few poems in Aberto todos os dias   by João Luís Barreto Guimarães. In my experience, translating poetry involves a negotiation between sense and sound. The words I choose need to communicate a meaning close to the Portuguese original, and also a similar rhythm and sound patterning. There’s some adjusting to be done: swapping a word for a synonym with one extra syllable, or with one less. Swapping a word for a synonym whose vowel sounds complement an existing pattern in the line. It reminds me of being a dressmaker making small tucks or opening seams in a garment to get the best fit. The acrostic is a literary form where such subtle alternations are inadmissible. Guimarães’s poem 'Introdução à poesia' ('Introduction to poetry') describes a group of fruit trees planted so that the first letter of each spells out the word CALMA (in English, CALM): Cerejeira, Ameixoeira, Limoeiro, Macieira, Ameixoeira. Translating this list ...

a o a the the the

When translating, there are always textures in the source language which cannot be directly replicated in the target language. Moving from Portuguese to English, gender is one such texture. Every noun in Portuguese is either feminine or masculine (which is the case in many other languages too) while English only has gendered nouns in special cases. I have been translating João Luís Barreto Guimarães’s collection Aberto todos os dias from Portuguese into English. I noticed a pattern at the start of the poem ‘Aquela garça ali’ (or  ‘That heron there’) . The first six nouns are alternately feminine and masculine. The nouns are:  a garça, o bote, a curva, o rio, a cidade, o fim. (In English this would be: the heron, the boat, the curve, the river, the city, the end).  Since every noun in Portuguese – whether animate, inanimate, concrete, abstract – is gendered, gender can seem arbitrary, not carrying significant meaning. To me the gender of a noun stands out ‘as though each ...