The Adventures of China Iron by Gabriela Cabezón Cámara tr. Fiona Mackintosh and Iona Macintyre (Charco Press, Nov. 2019)
GABRIELA CABEZÓN CÁMARA’S THE ADVENTURES OF CHINA IRON
by Sam Carter
In a famous 1943 ink drawing, the Uruguayan artist Joaquín Torres-García portrayed South America through the perspective that had been used to depict North America. He called it América invertida—“Inverted America”—and, true to its title, placed the equator at the bottom of the image and the southern continent at the top. The point is simple yet powerful: there is no reason for Latin Americans to look elsewhere for aesthetic inspiration. Compass needles might be pulled inexorably toward magnetic north, but Torres-García indicates art need not orient itself in the same way. Cartography’s conventions are revealed to be contingent and even detrimental; the status quo, in his work, proves to be imbalanced—and ripe for upheaval.
Rebecca F Kuang: ‘Who has the right to tell a story? It’s the wrong question to ask’
Este artículo tiene más de dos años.
The bestselling author of Babel and the the Poppy War trilogy on her new satire of the publishing industry and why she won’t write in the same genre twice
23 September: This story, “The Judgement,” I wrote at one sitting during the night of the 22nd-23rd, from ten o’clock at night to six o’clock in the morning. I was hardly able to pull my legs out from under the desk, they had got so stiff from sitting. The fearful strain and joy, how the story developed before me, as if I were advancing over water. Several times during the night I heaved my own weight on my back. How everything can be said, how for everything, for the strongest fancies, there waits a great fire in which they perish and rise up again. How it turned blue outside the window. A wagon rolled by. Two men walked across the bridge. At two I looked at the clock for the last time. As the maid walked through the ante-room for the first time I wrote the last sentence. Turning out the light and the light of day. The slight pains around my heart. The weariness that disappeared in the middle of the night. The trembling entrance into my sisters’ room. Reading aloud. Before that, stretching in the presence of the maid and saying, “I’ve been writing until now.” The appearance of the undisturbed bed, as though it had just been brought in. The conviction verified that with my novel-writing I am in the shameful lowlands of writing. Only in this way can writing be done, only with such coherence, with such a complete opening out of the body and the soul. Morning in bed. The always clear eyes. Many emotions carried along in the writing–joy, for example–that I shall have something beautiful… —
The Japanese author on the humour of Kurt Vonnegut, the joys of James Joyce and translating Beatrix Potter
Mieko Kawakami
Fri 12 Jan 2024 10.00 GMT
My earliest reading memory We had very few books at home, growing up, so I always looked forward to the Japanese textbooks that were handed out in school every term. I would read the entire book in one day, and over and over again after that. Textbooks might seem boring, but they gave me a way into contemporary poetry, haiku and tanka poems.
My favourite book growing up Demian by Hermann Hesse. Of all the protagonists, Sinclair appealed to me because of his introspective nature and lack of confidence.
The book that changed me as a teenager I was lucky to read Kurt Vonnegut as a teenager. Michael Ende has written about the way in which humour is not an expression of playfulness but rather an attitude of how a person deals with the extreme hardships and setbacks that occur in life. This understanding of humour is connected to the spirit of Osaka, the city where I was born and raised. It surprised me that I could understand the essence of my own culture through the work of Vonnegut, an American writer. Through his imagination and epic experiences, he taught me about hope amid despair.
The writer who changed my mind James Joyce. He completely transformed the way I thought about poetry – the whole concept of it, from form to content.
The book that made me want to be a writer I can’t think of one, because I never aspired to become a writer. I just gave my all to every job and got to where I am now.
The book I came back to Gravity and Grace by Simone Weil. As a non-believer, I could read and understand Weil’s work but never felt I could touch its essence. Now that I’m older and have been exposed to human limitations in various ways, the “God” that Weil refers to has taken on a new significance for me.
The book I reread Growing Up (Takekurabe) by Ichiyō Higuchi, who was one of the first professional female writers in modern Japan. She depicts, in superb prose, the brilliant innocence of children and the customs of the old part of Tokyo, from 130 years ago. Aside from being a pleasure to read, the story reminds me of how the economic disparity and systemic inequality of her time remain unchanged today. The Zürau Aphorisms by Franz Kafka is another one.
The book I could never read again I find many books are too macho to read now. Stories about “inheritance” or “succession”, depicting the conflict between sons and their oppressive fathers.
The book I discovered later in life A Manual for Cleaning Women by Lucia Berlin. This short-story collection was translated into Japanese a few years ago. I’m amazed by her ability to write about life’s sorrows and disappointments.
The book I am currently reading The Tale of Peter Rabbit and Other Stories by Beatrix Potter. I’m currently translating all 23 tales into Japanese, so I’ve been reading them very closely for the past two years. I am constantly impressed by their perfect structure – the illustrations are wonderful too. For example, the animals that eat well have shiny fur, whereas the less fortunate ones look greasy and flabby – their fur is painted differently according to class. There’s a lot I have learned from Potter’s life and her insightful vision.
My comfort read Kafka, because his works contain the truth that despair is neither something to be detested and shunned nor a sudden misfortune, but a natural condition for human life.
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