Half-Assed Worldliness
Pam pointed out an article on American's half-assed literary worldliness this week.
I myself am an embarrassingly unworldly reader and probably don't read more than 2 works in translation in any given year; I couldn't tell you the last time I read a contemporary translated novel.
She pulled out a very apt excerpt:
We don’t have much time, so we want a taste, some fast food to go. And so we read ethnic literature the way we down an ethnic meal. We can get a burrito almost anywhere, but it’s often mildly spiced, adjusted just for us, and wrapped for those in a rush. So we’re eating a translated burrito, and we’re reading a world prepared especially for us. But we don’t believe anything is missing.
But to continue the food metaphor - how many of us are truly satisfied by that vaguely ethnic burrito? It's what you get when you're in a hurry, yes, but if you had a choice between a legit local taco truck and a Taco del Mar, equally convenient, then which would you choose?
OK, so I'm sure some absurd portion of the population would still opt for the Mar and not know the difference, but surely not all of us? And the more who have the chance to try the real thing..
It’s not the ease of a Western voice I want, it’s the ease of taking book reading cues from well-known lists (I've read many foreign Nobel-winning writers) or what’s available at the library or what my friends recommend. I’d love to read more works in translation but unless a book comes across a familiar recommendation channel, I’ll likely not even know it exists. Same for music, film, etc.
Kinda sad.