The Republic of False Truths
by Alaa al-Aswany, translated by SR Fellowes, Faber £16.99/Knopf $28.95
Banned in the author’s home country, this fictionalised account of 2011’s Egyptian revolution serves up a chorus of voices — a corrupt general, a depraved but pious cleric, an idealistic school teacher, a dissatisfied workers’ representative — to capture the discontent, the excitement and the dashed hopes of the Tahrir Square movement.
Civilisations by Laurent Binet, translated by Sam Taylor, Harvill Secker £16.99/Farrar, Straus and Giroux $27
What if Vikings, rather than Spaniards, had been the first Europeans to roam the Americas? And what if the Incas, acquainted with horses and iron, and immune to Old World diseases, had sailed across the Atlantic and invaded 16th-century Europe? A bold and thrilling experiment in counter-factual history from a masterful storyteller.
Kokoschka’s Doll
by Afonso Cruz, translated by Rahul Bery, MacLehose Press £14.99
The tale of Austrian painter Oskar Kokoschka, who was so distraught by his separation from Alma Mahler that he commissioned a life-size replica of her, is one of many narrative strands woven into this quirky, multi-layered and occasionally surreal novel about identity and loss by one of Portugal’s most celebrated writers.
At Night All Blood Is Black
by David Diop, translated by Anna Moschovakis, Pushkin Press £14.99/Farrar, Straus and Giroux $25
The recently announced winner of this year’s International Man Booker Prize tells the story of Alfa Ndiaye, a Senegalese soldier fighting with French forces during the first world war, and chronicles his descent into brutality and madness after the death of his childhood friend. A powerful examination of comradeship and violence.
The Dangers of Smoking in Bed
by Mariana Enriquez, translated by Megan McDowell, Granta £12.99/Hogarth $27
Unnerving tales of voyeurism and self-harm, of missing children and male violence against women. With this latest collection of spine-tingling short stories, a predecessor to Enriquez’s excellent The Things we Lost in the Fire, the Argentine writer reaffirms her claim to the title of queen of Latin American gothic.
Tell us what you think
What are your favourites from this list — and what books have we missed? Tell us in the comments below
Slash and Burn
by Claudia Hernández, translated by Julia Sanches, And Other Stories £11.99
In an unspecified war-torn country, evocative of the author’s native El Salvador, an unnamed narrator takes up arms to fight for the poor but must pay a high price as she is forced to give up her daughter. A brutal dramatisation of the immediate and longer-term consequences of war as experienced by women.
Love in Five Acts
by Daniela Krien, translated by Jamie Bulloch, MacLehose Press £14.99
In this multifaceted examination of female longing and loss, German novelist Daniela Krien tells the interconnected stories of five women struggling to reconcile their multiple and often conflicting roles as professionals, as mothers, as daughters, as wives, as lovers and as friends. A sympathetic and clear-eyed view of modern womanhood.
Our Lady of the Nile
by Scholastique Mukasonga, translated by Melanie Mauthner, Daunt £9.99
Set in a Catholic girls’ school in late 1970’s Rwanda, this debut novel moves from a near-satirical and light-hearted depiction of the schoolgirls’ antics towards a darker and deeply troubling examination of the ethnic hatred that would eventually lead to the massacre of more than half a million Tutsi in 1994.
The Employees
by Olga Ravn, translated by Martin Aitken, Lolli Editions £12.99
Danish artist Lea Guldditte Hestelund invited novelist Olga Ravn to write a piece of fiction based on an exhibition of her sculptures. The result is a critique of life in the modern workplace, in which the discovery of strange objects on a faraway planet leads a space crew to question what it means to be human.
In Memory of Memory
by Maria Stepanova, translated by Sasha Dugdale, Fitzcarraldo £14.99/Book Hug Press $25
In her first prose work published in English — a rich and sprawling hybrid of memoir, literary essay and fiction — Russian poet Stepanova sifts through the letters, scrapbooks and photographs left behind by her deceased aunt, threading her family’s memories into the troubled history of 20th-century Russia.
Summer Books 2021
All this week, FT writers and critics share their favourites. Some highlights are:
Monday: Business by Andrew Hill Tuesday: Economics by Martin Wolf Wednesday: Politics by Gideon Rachman Thursday: History by Tony Barber Friday: Fiction by Laura Battle Saturday: Critics’ choice
Join our online book group on Facebook atFT Books Café
I’ve long loved Japanese literature and over the years with each passing August I’ve picked up more and more books translated from Japanese for Women in Translation Month. Hiromi Kawakami, Yuko Tsushima, Yoko Ogawa, and so many others have become some of the authors I recommend and return to most often. Here I’ve collected some of my favorites, 20 must-read Japanese books by women in translation. And if you’re looking to read a book on Japanese translation itself, I highly recommend Polly Barton’s brilliant and stunning reflection of language and life, Fifty Sounds.
Territory of Light by Yuko Tsushima, Translated by Geraldine Harcourt
Territory of Light follows a woman starting her life over again with her young daughter after being left by her husband. Her new Tokyo apartment is awash in light but she finds herself falling further into darkness and depression. As time passes, she confronts her new reality and makes plans for the future. It is a painful and honest journey, one that will ring true to many who have had to remake their life in a new image after loss, but it’s so beautifully told. The translation is particularly exquisite. “At once tender and lacerating, luminous and unsettling, Yuko Tsushima’s Territory of Light is a novel of abandonment, desire, and transformation.”
Manazuru by Hiromi Kawakami, Translated by Michael Emmerich
Twelve years have past since Kei’s husband disappeared and left her alone with their 3-year-old daughter, Momo. Still haunted by the disappearance, Kei keeps returning to the seaside town of Manazuru to remember and connect to something just out of reach. Manazuru is a beautifully subtle and profound story of loss and memory. There’s this restless quality to the novel that’s utterly gorgeous and — as is usually the case with Kawakami — there’s a strange, unusual element that I wouldn’t dare spoil for you! Find your way into the other works of Hiromi Kawakami with this reading pathways post.
Breasts and Eggs by Mieko Kawakami, Translated by Sam Bett and David Boyd
Published in Japan in 2008, Mieko Kawakami’s novella Breasts and Eggs won the prestigious Akutagawa Prize and the praise of authors like Yoko Ogawa and Haruki Murakami. This newly expanded novel is Kawakami’s first to be published in English and has already been hailed as a “feminist masterwork.” Breasts and Eggs is an intimate and striking novel of women’s bodies and agency in modern Japan, following three women — sisters Natsu and Makiko and Makiko’s daughter Midoriko — as they reflect on and determine their futures.
The Lonesome Bodybuilder: Stories by Yukiko Motoya, Translated by Asa Yoneda
I loved this collection of strange and wonderful stories. Winner of the Akutagawa Prize and the Kenzaburo Oe Prize, Motoya is a magician — she takes mundane, daily life and just twists it into these amazingly clever and fantastic tales. In these stories, a newlywed notices that her husband’s features are sneakily sliding around his face to match hers, umbrellas are more than they seem, women are challenging their boyfriends to duels, and you might want to reconsider dating the girl next door.
The Factory by Hiroko Oyamada, Translated by David Boyd
In Hiroko Oyamada’s English language debut The Factory, three characters find work at a sprawling industrial factory. They settle into their new jobs and they soon realize that their lives have slowly (or is it quickly? Time doesn’t seem to make sense any more) been taken over by the factory. Reality dissolves, strange creatures begin to appear, and the list of unanswered questions about this unusual factory grows longer. Winner of the Shincho Prize for New Writers.
The Hole by Hiroko Oyamada, Translated by David Boyd
The Hole is a surreal and atmospheric novel reminiscent of Lewis Carroll, David Lynch, and Hayao Miyazaki’s My Neighbor Totoro. Asa and her husband move to a remote home in the countryside after her husband transfers jobs. A chance encounter with a strange creature leads Asa to a series of bizarre circumstances as she tries to find her place in this new world. It’s especially impressive to see Oyamada create such a sensory rural novel, full of the lethargic, sticky heat of summer and the buzz of cicadas, after seamlessly crafting the industrial setting in her debut novel The Factory, also translated by David Boyd.
The Sky Is Blue With a Single Cloud by Kuniko Tsurita, Translated by Ryan Holmberg
Drawn & Quarterly has the most fantastic offerings of literature in translation and so I was thrilled to hear about The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, the first collection of stories by the “visionary and iconoclastic feminist cartoonist” Kuniko Tsurita to be available in English. Tsurita was the first and only regular female contributor in the legendary alt-manga monthly Garo and this collection reclaims her historical and literary importance. I particularly loved Gabrielle Bellot’s piece in The Atlantic about the collection — in her thoughtful review, Bellot discusses the ways in which Tsurita broke both gender and genre norms in her art.
Tokyo Ueno Station by Yu Miri, Translated by Morgan Giles
Kazu is a ghost that haunts Ueno Park — where he had previously lived in one of its homeless villages until the time of his death — but when you’ve finished this elusive and devastating novel, Kazu will begin to haunt you too. Described as a work of “post-tsunami literature and a protest against the 2020 Tokyo Olympics” and a novel for our times for its scathing critiques of the imperialist and capitalist systems, TokyoUeno Station hits even harder in the wake of the pandemic as vulnerable populations worldwide have been impacted disproportionately and the gulf between rich and poor grows at alarming rates.
Spring Garden by Tomoka Shibasaki, Translated by Polly Barton
Spring Garden follows Toro, a divorced man living in an older apartment complex that’s about to be demolished in a rapidly urbanizing Japan. Toro is drawn into an unusual relationship with Nishi, an artist living upstairs who tells him about her interest in the sky-blue house next door to the complex. The house soon becomes symbolic to both Taro and Nishi “of what is lost, of what has been destroyed, and of what hope may yet lie in the future for both of them.” This poignant novella of memory and loss left me stunned. Part of Pushkin Press’s incredible Japanese Novellas Series, which I’ve found to be a great resource for discovering new authors.
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata, Translated by Ginny Tapley Takemori
Keiko Furukura has worked at a convenience store for 18 years, comfortable in the patterns and norms of the store and its customers but aware of her family and society’s general disappointment in her. When a young man enters her life she has the chance to change everything — if she wants to. From one of Japan’s most exciting contemporary writers, Convenience Store Woman is a dark, funny, and compelling novel with a heroine that defies convention and description.
Where The Wild Ladies Are by Yoko Matsuda, Translated by Polly Barton
This surprising and clever collection of stories draws inspiration from traditional Japanese ghost and yōkai tales, many of which have been immortalized as kabuki or rakugo theatrical performances. Strange, poignant, and at times delightfully funny, these feminist retellings explore and critique roles and expectations for women in contemporary Japan and beyond. I’d recommend it to fans of The Lonesome Bodybuilder: Stories by Yukiko Motoya, translated by Asa Yoneda
Earthlings by Sayaka Murata, Translated by Ginny Tapley Takemori
In this hotly anticipated followup to Convenience Store Woman, Sayaka Murata and translator Ginny Tapley Takemori return with another strange and unconventional novel of what it means to be an outsider. Eleven-year old Natsuki has always felt different, but finds solace in her plush hedgehog Piyuut and summers with her cousin Yuu. The pair come to believe that they are aliens (as is Piyuut, from the planet Popinpobopia) and this belief and their bond begins a bizarre and at times shocking coming-of-age story. Like Convenience Store Woman, Earthlings looks closely at societal expectations and pressures to conform to dizzying effect.
The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa, Translated by Stephen Snyder
I’m in awe of Yoko Ogawa and always excited to see her newest project — her range is incredible, from books like her touching novel The Housekeeper and the Professor to her terrifying collection of stories Revenge: Eleven Dark Tales, and now The Memory Police. On an unnamed island, objects are disappearing. First it’s small things that go missing and many of the people on the island are unaware of the changes. But it soon escalates and the citizens who can recall the lost objects live in fear of the Memory Police. Ogawa’s writing is always stunning — haunting in its own spare, powerful way — and The Memory Police is a masterful take on an Orwellian novel of state surveillance.
Revenge: Eleven Dark Tales by Yoko Ogawa, Translated by Stephen Snyder
Revenge is an intricately interwoven collection of stories about grief, death, and yes, revenge, where each story stands alone but also connects in surprising ways to its fellows. This layered effect coupled with the subtle calm of Yoko Ogawa’s prose in a thrilling translation by acclaimed translator Stephen Snyder makes the disturbing elements of these stories feel even more chilling. If you like Revenge, I would recommend Ogawa’s The Diving Pool: Three Novellas and Hotel Iris, both also translated by Snyder.
Toddler Hunting And Other Stories by Taeko Kono, Translated by Lucy North and Lucy Lower
Kenzaburo Oe calls Taeko Kono — winner of Japan’s top literary prizes: the Akutagawa, the Tanizaki, the Noma, and the Yomiuri — “the most carnally direct and the most lucidly intelligent woman writing in Japan,” and it’s hard to disagree after reading the unsettling and striking stories in Toddler Hunting. Pleasure and pain mix in the lives of the women and girls of Taeko Kono’s stories, as scenes of sadomasochism and obsession veil her sharp attacks at the ideals of motherhood and femininity.
A True Novel by Minae Mizumura, Translated by Juliet Winters Carpenter
While this much loved and admired novel is often described as a loose retelling of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights set in Japan, A True Novel is so much more than that. First serialized in the monthly literary journal Shincho and published in two volumes, A True Novel is a rich and and masterfully crafted story of lovers set against a fascinating and important moment in Japanese history. It is a powerful and haunting examination of Japan’s post-war westernization and its struggle to retain its identity in a moment of economic upheaval. And new from Minae Mizumura and translator Juliet Winters Carpenter, I’d also recommend An I-Novel, a semi-autobiographical and “formally daring novel that radically broke with Japanese literary tradition” when it was published in 1995.
Lady Joker Volume 1 by Kaoru Takamura, Translated by Allison Markin Powell and Marie Iida
Kaoru Takamura has been hailed as “one of Japan’s great modern masters” and since its 1997 publication, Lady Joker has become a cultural touchstone in Japan, taught in classrooms and adapted for film and television, with millions of copies sold. It was inspired by the unsolved and real-life Gilco-Moringa kidnapping case perpetrated by “the Monster with 21 Faces.” An immense and extraordinary feat of writing and translation that has been long-awaited in English, Lady Joker is at once a thriller and a sweeping cultural history of Japan, a love story and a work of poignant social commentary. The second volume is set to be published in summer 2022.
Strange Weather in Tokyo by Hiromi Kawakami, Translated by Allison Markin Powell
Shortlisted for the Man Asian Literary Prize and the International Foreign Fiction Prize, Strange Weather in Tokyo is a sweet and poignant story of love and loneliness. Tsukiko is 38, lives alone, works in an office, and is not entirely satisfied with her life when she runs into a former high school teacher, who she knows as sensei, at a bar one night. They talk and over time this hesitant intimacy grows into something more. It’s a “moving, funny, and immersive tale of modern Japan and old-fashioned romance” while also managing to be this quiet, understated beauty of a book.
Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto, Translated by Megan Backus
Banana Yoshimoto is one of the most popular Japanese novelists around the world and despite her extensive catalog, her debut novel Kitchen remains her best-loved book. First published in 1988, Kitchen caused such a frenzy that the media dubbed the buzz around her work “Bananamania” and its English translation by Megan Backus followed in 1993 — published with a companion story “Moonlight Shadow.” A beautiful and tender story of transience and love, Kitchen examines the exhaustion of young people in contemporary Japan and the ways that tragedy shapes a person’s life through the stories of heroine Mikage and her friend Yoichi and his mother, who take Mikage in when her grandmother dies.
The Emissary by Yoko Tawada, Translated by Margaret Mitsutani
Yoko Tawada is one of the most fascinating writers of our time, writing stories, novels, poems, plays, and essays in both Japanese and German. Winner of the 2018 National Book Award for Translated Literature, The Emissary is her most recent novel. After an unnamed but possibly nuclear disaster, Japan has cut itself off from the rest of the world. Children are now born ancient and frail and rely entirely on their newly vigorous grandparents to care for them. In Tawada and translator Margaret Mitsutani’s gifted hands this dystopian meditation on mortality and modern Japan is both chilling and tender, haunting and hopeful.
Looking for even more recommendations? Browse our Japan archives.
ORLANDO, FL — Wycliffe Associates, an international organization that empowers mother-tongue Bible translators and partners with local churches in the advancement of Bible translation, is assisting with printing and distributing newly translated Scriptures through its Print On Demand initiative.
“Translation is the crucial first step,” says Interim President and CEO Tim Neu. “But when this work is finished, there’s one more absolutely crucial step to take: the Scriptures must be printed. This is one of the best and easiest ways for God’s Word to be shared freely and fully within language groups, especially in remote areas of the world.”
Wycliffe Associates provides technology to national Bible translators in Africa, the Middle East, Asia, Latin America, and the Pacific, where many of them are in danger and persecuted for their faith.
Print On Demand units, high-speed digital printing equipment that can produce small or large quantities of Scripture, operate discreetly and quietly, keeping Bible translators safe. Wycliffe Associates trains workers to maintain and operate the portable equipment.
“In some regions, persecution is so intense, people can’t gather safely for worship or Bible study,” says Neu. “But with the printed Scriptures, they can read, study, memorize, and share God’s Word safely in their own homes.”
For example, Bible translators and local churches in one region are using the equipment to print the Gospel of John. One Christian is smuggling the copies into a city where he has connected with a group of believers who are discreetly leaving them on doorsteps.
Currently the organization hopes to help local churches in 32 language groups that have organized teams of mother-tongue Bible translators. However, the groups need to print the Scriptures to be able to share them.
A basic Print On Demand unit costs $2,000, while the price of large-scale equipment for producing greater quantities is $25,000 each.
“This will be the first time ever that churches in these areas can read, pray, study, and worship together from printed Scriptures in the language of their heart,” says Neu.
So far Wycliffe Associates has provided 131 Print On Demand units worldwide.
“Right now, Christians in local churches are making wonderful progress in their Bible translation work,” says Neu. “For them, a Print On Demand unit is a great solution.”
About Wycliffe Associates
One of the world’s leading Bible translation organizations, Wycliffe Associates was organized in 1967 by friends of Bible translators to accelerate the work of Bible translation. Wycliffe Associates empowers national Bible translators to provide God’s Word in their own language, partners with the local church to direct and guard translation work, harnessing their passion and desire for God’s Word, and engages people from all around the world to provide resources, technology, training, and support for Bible translation.
Because millions of people around the world still wait to have the Scriptures in the language of their hearts, Wycliffe Associates is working as quickly as it can to see every verse of God’s Word translated into every tongue to speak to every heart. Wycliffe Associates is directly involved with speeding Bible translation by providing technology, training, resources, logistics, networking, expertise, volunteers, discipleship, church planting, and support. Wycliffe Associates staff and volunteers are currently accelerating Bible translations in 68 countries. For more information, please see https://ift.tt/3gMFFgn.
Read more news on Bible Translation and Christian Persecution on Missions Box.
The University of Malta’s Matriculation and Secondary Education Certificate “MATSEC” Examination Board apologized over a father's suicide note translation question in student’s SEC exam held on June 15th.
The 10-mark question read Translate the following text into English; students were left shocked after the exam as the paragraph appeared to be a suicide note by a father to his kids and wife.
The test paragraph which was translated by 15-16 year-old teenagers reads: ““My dear wife and children, I’m so sad I can’t live anymore, when you read this letter I’ll be dead and you won’t see me anymore. I gave you a lot when I was young but now I’m older and you left me alone and poor without money, therefore, I’ll leave this life and die.
Maybe I’ll find another life. Maybe I’ll be happy there. Maybe I’ll live with poor people like me. I love you. Bye.”
Then he ate the poison, then slept in his bed, and the next day he woke up happy and his wife called him and he laughed, his children called him and he laughed.”
Just found out Matsec asked O level Arabic students to translate a su***de note???? WTF???
— 🪶𝙵𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛🪶 (@_FrostFeather_) June 17, 2021
It was an "error of judgment", MATSEC revealed. We always review the system with the aim to avoid such mistakes and situations, but we failed this time.
A statement by MATSEC, located in Malta’s Msida, says students of the SEC Arabic examination panel were selected based on their subject knowledge and according to their experience in the level and the incident will not affect their grades.
A research group led by Professor Sachie Hiratsuka, Institute for Biomedical Research, Shinshu University, has found that a specific sequence of messenger RNA (mRNA), which exists outside cells, binds to receptors on the surface of natural killer (NK) cells and is taken up into the nucleus. The group found that NK cells with mRNA uptake are able to enhance their migration activity and interferon gamma production. Furthermore, NK cells incorporating the mRNA showed an inhibitory effect on cancer metastasis in animal experiments.
In recent years, the results of cancer treatment have been improving with the increase of medical technology. However, it is still difficult to effectively prevent cancer metastasis, so there is a need to develop new treatment methods. Cancer metastasis occurs when cancer cells in the body metastasize to other organs and grow again in those organs. The process is extremely complex, with various reactions occurring simultaneously, and it is difficult to say that we have enough basic knowledge at present.
In cancer metastasis, the cancer cells themselves undergo changes that increase their malignant potential, such as invasion of the surrounding tissues. At the same time, the target organ is in a condition to accept metastasizing cancer cells. Therefore, in order to prevent cancer metastasis, basic research is being conducted for a method that not only works directly on cancer cells but also works on the target organs.
Professor Hiratsuka's research team has been conducting basic research on the role of immune cells and pulmonary vascular endothelial cells in lung metastasis using a mouse model of cancer metastasis. It was found that in the mice with a primary tumor transplanted subcutaneously, some NK cells stimulated by cancer tissue migrate from the liver to the lung. Furthermore, these cells were found to have the function of suppressing cancer metastasis in the lungs, and these cells were named "anti-metastatic cells," but their molecular mechanism was not unknown. Therefore, the team decided to conduct research to elucidate the activation mechanism of anti-metastatic cells.
Messenger RNA exists inside the cell and is the blueprint for protein synthesis. Until now, it has been unclear whether mRNA also exists outside the cell, or if it does, whether it has any function other than making proteins. In this study, the group first showed the presence of mRNA in tissue-cultured medium. At the same time, they demonstrated anti-metastatic cells isolated from mice incorporated mRNA into their cells. The uptake of mRNA was attributed to the action of the ZC3H12D protein, which binds strongly to a specific part of the RNA called the AU-rich region. It was also found that the incorporated RNA was transported to the cell nucleus. Mouse anti-metastatic cells showed increased expression of genes resistant to death, activation of cell migration ability, and production of interferon gamma after incorporation of RNA. Furthermore, when the RNA-incorporated anti-metastatic cells were injected into mice, they inhibited cancer metastasis. These results indicate that some mRNAs are taken up by cells and transported to the nucleus, which may inhibit cancer metastasis. (Figure)
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LGBT Column demonstration in St. Petersburg on May 1, 2014, against the war in Ukraine and Russia. InkBoB, CC 4.0, Wikimedia Commons.
A treasure hunt awaits you, Dear Reader, one that will uncover brilliant word gems and coined phrases from around the world, and that will also lead you into endless mysteries, byways, false doors, and linguistic traps. All in the tongue-in-cheek attempt to reset global consciousness according to the precepts of a new International—and one is so badly needed in these times—but now the specter of, yes, the Queer International!
Folks on the left will surely recall the Comintern, or Communist International, a project led by Moscow from the 1920s to 1940s that aimed to coordinate global political theory, strategy, and practices. It was not only queers who used the term “Homintern” to refer to that informal system of mutual aid that queers developed especially in certain arenas, like higher-end arts institutions, where LGBTQ professionals were positioned to hire and promote some of their own. It never amounted to much more than that, ’cept maybe in Joe McCarthy’s feverish wet dreams.
A big open tent
Human beings are forever seeking similarities and fraternity in one another, through faith, language, culture, politics, class, and also sexual attraction. The Dictionary of the Queer International is a big open tent where people from every corner of the globe can assemble, mingle, and revel in each other’s myriad ways of self-expression. One of the words included here is “democratico—democratic. Adjective to indicate that a person has sex with everyone,” p. 69. How Whitmanesque! Another is “ena yesigaba sabasebenzi—proletariat,” p. 73. Queers of the world, unite!
The present book under review dubs itself “Volume 1,” which suggests endless possibilities for more volumes. After all, there are so many more cultures and languages to hear from, and then, too, terminology and material conditions evolve over time. Part of the aggravating, infuriating charm of the book is precisely the fact that it is a book at all and not an interactive website where the curious reader could search for words and concepts in whatever language they choose. It stands as both a gallant, winking nod to a venerable bibliographical tradition and at the same time a royal slap to its face.
Sources, languages, fonts, and scripts are all mashed together. A certain percentage of entries will be illegible to almost every reader—Arabic, Chinese, Korean, Russian and Bulgarian Cyrillic, Yiddish, Hindi, and several I couldn’t readily identify. Lesbians, transgender people, femmes and butches, closeted and out, all have the chance here to display the finery of their vocabulary in a cornucopia of radical egalitarianism. One thing that impressed me is how many contributors reference the whole gender discussion, differentiating biological sex from gender identity.
There is nonetheless some pretense at taxonomy. After editor Yevgeniy Fiks’s foreword and a short memoir by Evgeny Shtorn about growing up as a “blue boy” “on the border of the boundless Central Asian steppe at the time of great exodus of those who for different reasons ended up there during the Soviet era,” the dictionary proper begins, organized into five categories.
First, the longest, “People, Identities, (Re)Slurs,” by which term I believe he means words, such as “queer” itself, which contain a wide range of nuances from outright condemnation to loving embrace depending on speaker and circumstance. Probably every culture has such words—terms we can use with affection amongst ourselves but which coming from outside are heard as hostile.
Second is “Actions and Expressions,”
Third is “Body and Mind,”
Fourth “Attributes, Traits, Qualifiers,” and finally, “Objects, Concepts, Miscellaneous.”
These fungible divisions are often arbitrary, and indeed, some words get repeated from section to section, sometimes with different definitions, as more than one respondent may have submitted it.
Horizontality and the role of progressive queer culture
Fiks is a big thinker. “We live in a peculiar era when both universalism and intersectional solidarity are retreating as regional powers become stronger in a globalized world, giving rise to populist nationalism. In this situation, what is the role of progressive queer culture vis-à-vis global corporations and aggressive nation states? What is the function of the queer defense language at a time when there is an assault on pluralism globally, nationally, and locally?”
In the project he proposes, he endorses “cultural resistance to both hierarchical globalization and nationalist exclusion.” At the same time, he is not oblivious to the “conservative queer culture that is both eager to form alliances with local nationalist parties and promotes hierarchical, neoliberal globalization.” Consider them as comparable to the “comprador” class. The Dictionary, he posits, offers “a vision of an international queer language of multi-locality and horizontality.”
In what may seem to many readers an excess of democracy, to the disparagement of logic itself, the Dictionary “preserves the original usage and style of the language of the submissions in order not to impose uniformity and rigidity, introducing only minimal editing. The words and phrases submitted to the Dictionary were added in the order they arrived, without alphabetization, in order not to privilege any of the existing languages or alphabets.” In the interest of “horizontality,” the Dictionary does not even indicate the language of the entries. Oftentimes one illegible entry (except, of course, to those who do read that language) is defined only in that language, or even by a word written in another illegible language—Yiddish into Thai, Russian into Korean, etc. What are we to make of this listing (in Latin letters): “tokoloho e ngata—inkululeko,” p. 74? Our “horizontalist” goodwill is put to severe test.
“It has to be acknowledged,” Fiks admits, “that the English language is still privileged in the book, a reality that speaks of the legacy of imperialism in this particular moment in history.” To subvert that privilege, however, he as editor leaves in obvious mistakes, misspellings, and typos in the submissions received (such as, for example, a number of times “literary” is printed instead of the intended “literally”). In another instance, succeeding a number of Arabic (or Farsi?) terms for female, gay, bottom, top, there’s another word defined as “verse,” p. 16, which clearly was intended as “versatile.”
In one sense, he undercuts his own method, though, by listing the names of the countries from which submissions came, by alphabetical order, in English, from A (Austria) to V (Venezuela), although some of the words come from languages spoken in places like Burma, Thailand, and Vietnam, which are unlisted as source countries. So far, of course, Yiddish doesn’t have a territorial homeland. And he thanks his contributors, again privileging Latin letters which would not conform to the native alphabets of his correspondents, from A (Qureshi Abdullah) to Z (Andrei Zavalei).
The underground language of a despised people
Many if not most cultures have disparaged queer people to the point of ostracism and even death, claiming homosexuality is an importation or imposition from the outside. The Dictionary includes an “old offensive word” in the Kyrgyz language which, although insulting, nevertheless “serves as evidence of the existence of queer people in the nation in the past and confronts arguments about ‘western influence’ and ‘homosexual propaganda,’” p. 18. In many African lands, we know, it was homophobia itself that was brought in by European missionaries with their bibles.
In a number of instances, a definition is given that might have benefited from further explication. For example, “mana—sister (as a slang),” p. 13. This is from Spanish and is a shortened form of hermana, as mano is likewise a short form of hermano. Or “le onze août—friend of Dorothy,” p. 46; the term is French, meaning “August 11th” but where does that come from? (We know, or at least we who are in the know know, where Dorothy is from.) Or a Russian word in Cyrillic letters meaning “police, KGB,” p. 46, but the Russian letters clearly spell “Gestapo.” The phrase “cagar no maiô—to make a big mistake” is in Portuguese, though it borrows the French word maillot, literally meaning “to shit in your bathing suit,” p. 50.
Some more examples of terms whose definitions defy the imagination include “julie andrew—to be caught [cheating]” and “barbra streisand—to be rejected bluntly, blocked,” both p. 55, “brad pitt—how much?” p. 71, and “pagoda cold wave lotion—tired, exhausted,” p. 65. We have no information on where, in what language, such terms are used, not even how commonly understood they are there. Another term written in Russian, p. 55, translates as “a meeting of two older male homosexuals,” but the Russian, vstrecha na Elbe, literally refers to the meeting at the Elbe River in 1945 when the American and Soviet forces joined up to celebrate the defeat of Nazi Germany. All this is pertinent information, but it’s hidden to most readers behind the dense scrim of another language, another alphabet. At least “imelda marcos—e-mail,” p. 76, makes some phonetic sense in English, and perhaps that helps to explain some of the other terms, though we don’t know in what language.
In other cases, where the social context of a word is included, the correspondent has identified a term (in Arabic? Farsi?) referring to a gay man as “[t]ypically murmured in settings where someone is avoiding explicit gay language,” p. 15. A Kyrgyz correspondent attests to the still private sensibilities of some queer people who are not willing to come out or share the community’s codes: “There were also a couple of terms I was asked not to publish in order to keep them secret and therefore usable,” p. 18.
Social history and humor
There is much humor in the dictionary, and not all of it inaccessible to the non-queer reader. I enjoyed the Spanish terms (though not identified as such) “musculoca—gay man addicted to the gym” [someone crazy about muscles], “muerde-almohadas—bottom,” both p. 20, and “soplanuca—top” [someone who breathes on the back of your neck], p. 21. “[M]uerde almohadas” turns up again on p. 27 (no hyphen this time), defined as “pillow biter,” so between the two entries a reader can assemble a vivid image. Chinese correspondents contribute many items represented by their appropriate ideographs, but three amusing numerical terms they supplied on pp. 22-23 will be easily understood anywhere in the world: “0—bottom,” “1—top,” “0.5—versatile.”
Some definitions are recognizable social types found everywhere: A combination of three Chinese characters is explained, “while it literally translates to ‘a little wolf dog,’ it’s a slang for ruthless lover boys who are not afraid to break some hearts,” p. 25. Or the (unidentified) French term “ours polaire—an old, hairy guy with greying or white hair,” p. 31; that would be a “Polar bear” in English, but you have to figure that out for yourself.
A reader can learn some interesting queer history, for example: “jota—gay. It comes from the ‘J’ sector of the jail in mid-XXth century, where homosexual men were gathered,” p. 28. Another echo from olden times is this one: “england la?—an expression that is part of the jargon of the Burmese LGBT community and also works as a kind of joke that refers to the colonial past of Burma. Translated as: ‘are you English?’ it has the meaning of: ‘are you bottom?’ since England always went ahead or in the first place. Superbly!” p. 34.
And here’s a nice bit of social history that Emma (“If I can’t dance it’s not my revolution”) Goldman might have liked: “Ayya si’a el ‘arabi?—What time does the Arabic start? A phrase that originated in gay nightclubs, uttered by clubbers waiting in anticipation for Arabic music, fed up after a few hours of House, Techno, etc. Rich in rhythmic and upbeat tunes, Arabic melodies shall satisfy the dancers’ bodies as they shake it in and out of control. Outside the dance floor, the phrase can be a call for changing course, decrying a monotonous state prevailing thus far and hoping to stir it up,” pp. 50-51. I for one am always ready for the Arabic, how about you?
This definition has a most intriguing background: “ets del ram de l’aigua—literally meaning ‘you belong to the guild of water’ and it is slang for a faggot. Formally the ‘ram de l’Aigua’ was the guild that dyes fabrics, work is done mostly by women. For this reason, and for the use of colored dyes in the women’s clothes, this slang expression appears. Used in Catalonia,” p. 40.
If the most common Yiddish term for faggot, a feygele [little bird], is in the book somewhere, I guess I missed it, which is weird, given the editor’s profusely documented Soviet-Russian-Commie-globalist-Jewish-Yiddish-homo-artsy proclivities. But then this dictionary makes no claim to be comprehensive. Maybe he’s saving that for volume 2.
Way toward the end, in the last section on “Objects, Concepts, Miscellaneous,” appears a term in Russian meaning “a gay cruising site,” p. 77. In transliteration it’s pleshka. That word appears twice more in the dictionary—in the “Pleshka-Globe” graphic by Fiks that serves as the frontispiece, spelled out in Yiddish letters (although we only see plesh; you’d have to travel to the Sahara and the North Atlantic to find the ka), and in the end credits which also mention the photographer Etienne Frossard. The dustjacket art (which I did not receive on my copy) sketches a rough map of the Jewish Autonomous Region of Birobidzhan in far eastern Siberia, further rooting this entire project in the intensely emotional yearning for a libertarian socialist reorganization of society governed by principles of inclusiveness, freedom, justice, and love.
And perhaps in an ultimate sense, this is really not a dictionary at all: Its fatal organizational apparatus certainly renders it virtually useless from any practical point of view. It’s the kind of book you hold in your hand, thumb through for something to catch your eye, and move on—aimlessly, though pleasurably, like the book of jokes you keep on the tank in the littlest room of your house. Rather, this is a collective aspirational work of conceptual utopian literary art that lifts up our amazing human diversity, our rich emotional lives, and our right to the full expression of our desire.
Dictionary of the Queer International Edited by Yevgeniy Fiks Publication Studio Guelph (Ontario), 2020 92 pp., $15 ISBN: 978-1-9992871-2-2