Goed, ik zal er niet om liegen: natuurlijk was ik opgelucht toen de trein Rotterdam Centraal binnenreed.
Introduction
A new year of Crossing Border meant the 7th edition of The Chronicles. We proudly present a new collective of young, talented writers and translators who reported on this years’ festival. Sam Byers, Tatiana Salem Levy, Daphne Huisden and Monika Kompaníková were our eyes and ears, the chroniclers of Crossing Border. Their daily stories were immediately translated by Roos van de Wardt, Taco Schreij, Alice Paul, Didi van Ingen, Lucy Greaves and Denis Dobrovoda and published on our website the very same night.
On Saturday the 16th of November, the authors and translators gave a live performance at the festival in The Hague with readings and an interview; in Antwerp on Sunday the 17th of November.
Besides the festival columns and translations, fragments from Sam’s, Tatiana’s, Monika’s and Daphne’s novels are available on this website (as download, in English or Dutch). Click on the photos to find them. Do the same thing to find out more about all the participants.
During Crossing Border, the translators of The Chronicles were offered a master class in literary translation by the Dutch Foundation for Literature. Read more about it here.
Enjoy reading!
All stories
Faz tempo, cheguei à conclusão de que há certa dose de bruxaria no ato de escrever.
Letisko po tretie! Kto by bol povedal, koľko podnetov môže jedno letisko poskytnúť.
I feel, and have always felt, a sense of ambivalence about conclusions.
Do lado de fora, está muito frio.
Sam Byers svoj prvý stĺpček napísal zo svojej pohovky doma v Británii, namiesto toho, aby písal v hotelovej izbe v Haagu – zmeškal lietadlo.
En zo kwam het dat ik na afloop geen zin meer had om verstandig te doen.
For me, Solomon’s most memorable remarks focused on the notion of difference.
Acordo no meio de um pesadelo: meu pai foi condenado à prisão e me avisa que vai se matar.
Prebudila som sa do bieleho rána. Pozerám z okna hotelovej izby.
Having re-inserted myself back into the appropriate time and space by managing to successfully arrive in The Hague,
Maar ik had niet lang de tijd om mezelf dit kwalijk te nemen. Het zaallicht veranderde en Lucius kwam op.
Opäť stojím na letisku. Tentokrát na Schwechate vo Viedni, na skok od Bratislavy.
Verdomme, dacht ik. Ik moet toch ergens een stukje over schrijven!
Um livro, que livro?
Hello and welcome to my second posting, which reaches you not from the exciting new surroundings promised by The Hague, but from the rather more familiar surroundings of my own sofa, which this morning I rather spectacularly failed to leave.
Stojím na letisku v Bratislave v rade pri kontrole batožiny, za mnou dvadsaťročná sestra, predo mnou mama.
En als ik er een keer niet onderuit kan, zit ik in een hoekje: jas op schoot, blik op de uitgang, klaar om te gaan.
Estendeu-me o volume pesado, aberto na página que queria me mostrar: é a sua cara. Olhei para o retrato de Spinoza e nem hesitei: claro que não!
My relationship to travel is eccentric: I try very hard to leave at least half of me at home.