#Andrew Bertaina

[citronreview-blog]

Our journal of brief literature beckons you to the fall season. https://citronreview.com/

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by The Citron Review (@citronreview)

Photograph by Jill Katherine Chmelko

[icedteadrinker]

[aeide-thea]

in light of some of the tags this post is already accruing, it seems irresponsible not to emphasize that the andrew bertaina piece pictured above is a prose poem, NOT an actual translator's note—like, yes, this is hilariously conceited, but it's an entirely deliberate, fictional conceit!

Hi I'm looking for a specific post, it's an image of the inside page of a book that was translated by this guy who didn't read the original but felt that he was uniquely qualified to translate it anyway because he once saw the author and felt he understood him implicitly at a glance

i don't remember it...

anybody know?

[aeide-thea]

okay not to be really aggressively salty but honestly: can't believe someone posted that andrew bertaina piece without any mention of its fictionality AGAIN

like. we JUST went thru all this last winter. why in god's name would you start the idiot ball rolling all over again.

[mumblingsage]

Someone is always e-mailing me to say they were rather fond of my work, but they can’t seem to find a place for it right now. As if my writing were an orphan beating on doors at midnight. I hear you already, dear reader, another writer who’s going to take an analogy beyond its logical extreme. But right now, my sweet, I’m just e-mailing to say that I’ve found a home for the way your lower lip curls slightly in your smile. And a home for the curls in your hair, smelling of apples. I’ve found a home for the freckle just above the joint on your left elbow, And for the slight birthmark, shaped like Australia, on your shoulder. But someone else is interrupting the flow of my thoughts just now, sending me a quick note to say that they could not find a home for my work. But they wish me the best of luck placing it elsewhere.

“Placing it Elsewhere” by Andrew Bertaina, at Rejection Letters

[enricocassi]

La Primavera di Alba ospita per il settimo anno consecutivo la Notte Bianca delle Librerie.

La manifestazione che vede, dal primo pomeriggio fino a tarda sera, le librerie e il centro storico della città di Alba coinvolti in appuntamenti culturali legati alla lettura.

Andando per librerie

Ore 11.00

Anticipazione dell’evento con “I ragazzi di Virmarone” di Fabrizio Buonamassa alla Libreria Mondadori.

Ore 15.30

Via ufficiale alla Notte Bianca delle Librerie. Animazione teatrale alla Cooperativa Libraria La Torre, in collaborazione con la Scuola Primaria Coppino e l’Istituto Comprensivo Centro Storico.

Ore 16.00

Libreria L’Incontro: spettacolo tratto dal libro “Due calzini blu” di Matteo Abbate, che condurrà i più piccini in un viaggio appassionante attraverso i percorsi della fantasia.

La Libreria Mondadori ospiterà una lettura animata per bambini del libro illustrato “L’Inaugurazione del Poseidon” di Davide Calì.

Presso la Libreria Star Shop si svolgeranno tornei qualificanti e dimostrazioni di giochi di carte di Pokemon e Krosmaster.

Ore 16.30

La Cooperativa Libraria La Torre proporrà un laboratorio di lettura per bambini dai 2 ai 5 anni dal titolo Ghirighì.

In concomitanza una proposta per un pubblico adulto, alla Libreria Fooxbook, Donatella Coda Zabretta parlerà del suo libro sulla crescita interiore dal titolo “Il coraggio di ascoltarsi”.

Ore 18.00

Alla Libreria L’Incontro il giocoliere Bingo e la Compagnia Teatro Carrozzina assaggio di quello che sarà il festival degli artisti di strada del 27 maggio.

La Cooperativa Libraria La Torre presenterà invece Respira, il romanzo di Roberto Saporito.

Alla Libreria San Paolo i bambini e ragazzi del laboratorio teatrale Donchisciottesiamonoi daranno vita allo spettacolo “Chaos! Dèi ed eroi ora la parola passa a noi…”

La Libreria Milton proporrà invece le imprese sportive del protagonista del libro “Vicino alle stelle” di Andrea Franchello e Marco Chinazzo.

La Libreria Mondadori ospiterà il giornalista del TG1 Rai Sergio Piani che attraverso il suo saggio “La Mezzaluna d’Europa. I Musulmani nei Balcani dagli Ottomani fino all’Isis”.

Ore 18.30

Incontro dal taglio psicologico, proposto da FooxBook con Maura Saita Ravizza che dialogherà sul suo libro “Psicogenealogia e atti simbolici”; l’altro alla Libreria San Paolo con un’esposizione di dipinti “Piccole finestre sul mondo” di Francesca Dondoglio.

Ore 19.00

la Libreria Milton presenterà l’opera prima del giovane albese, Paolo Bosca dal titolo “Cristallino: un mondo nel futuro”. Una scrittura tagliente e un puzzle da riordinare sono gli ingredienti di questo romanzo filosofico introspettivo.

Ore 19.30

Libreria Zanoletti con “Prati di Lucciole per sempre” di Luciano Roero che narra le vicende del gruppo musicale di cui l’autore fa parte. A fare da sfondo i turbolenti anni’70, ricchi di cambiamenti.

Ore 20.00

Alla Libreria Milton, Silvano Bertaina spiegherà al pubblico presente “Come sopportare un collega di lavoro”.

Stessa ora per un altro appuntamento legato invece al mondo del fantasy: alla Libreria Star Shop Massimiliano Cerutti presenta il suo grafic novel in formato digitale “Noctem Animae”.

Ore 20.30

La Libreria San Paolo ospiterà il giornalista sportivo Gigi Garanzini che presenterà il suo libro “Il minuto di silenzio”. La storia del calcio attraverso i suoi eroi, una serie di ritratti che richiedono da uno a tre minuti di lettura per ciascuno.

Alla Libreria Milton, ci sarà una presentazione della Casa Editrice CasaSirio, a cui seguirà un incontro con Fernando Masullo autore del libro “Mr. President”, che narra la storia degli Stati Uniti d’America attraverso i profili dei suoi 45 presidenti.

Ore 20.45

alla Cooperativa Libraria La Torre sarà la volta di Stefania Spadoni, una giovane fotografa che nel suo progetto di narrazione fotografica e scrittura Come mi senti, racconta il difficile percorso di come si affronta una malattia: la strada verso una possibile guarigione, le privazioni, gli ostacoli, le gioie.

Ore 21.00

Libreria FooxBook durante il quale si parlerà di alimentazione e benessere.

Completamente diverso sarà l’altro evento in programma alla Libreria Mondadori dove sarà presentato il libro “25 grammi di felicità”. Come un piccolo riccio può cambiarti la vita di Massimo Vacchetta.

Ore 21.30

Il pubblico della Libreria L’Incontro potrà godere di un’ora e trenta di poesia, racconti, risate, vino e bellezza grazie allo spettacolo “Non ho ancora ucciso nessuno” di Andrea Zorretta, in arte Andrew Faber.

Ore 22.00

Nella Libreria Milton ci si potrà addentrare nel fantastico mondo della fantascienza. Infatti, il libro Viaggi nel tempo” di Fabrizio Farina si snoda in undici racconti tra orologi che scorrono alla rovescia, persone che si risvegliano nel passato, avventurieri a caccia di t-rex.

http://ift.tt/eA8V8J

[mumblingsage]

It’s worth noting that “A Translator’s Note” is a work of fiction/prose poetry (and is listed as poetry on Andrew Bertaina’s website), not a real note from a real translator. 

It’s a great piece. It’s just a great piece of fiction. 

you’ve all heard of “faithful translations” now get ready for “unfaithful translations” where i make my translation say whatever the fuck i want because i think the source material sucks ass

[ap-apt]

AWP recap, an upcoming marathon reading, plus the 2017 AIDS Walk in Boston

It’s been nearly a week since we got back from DC for the annual AWP conference. We felt strange being in DC, happy to see so many friends while many of us feel unsafe in the nation’s capitol due to the current GOP administration.

But we found ways to act up and to resist. We asked apt contributors who stopped by the table to start a conversation [heart] with the administration. We were lucky to see so many apt contributors take part—Ray Shea, Glenn Shaheen, Suzannah Russ Spaar, Lucia LoTempio, Simeon Berry, Alex McElroy, Kurt Klopmeier, Elisa Gabbert, Andrew Bertaina, Aaron Brown, Gillian Devereux, Justin Lawrence Daugherty, Lena Bertone, Yun Wei, Emily Jaeger, Shannon Austin, Danielle Evennou, Meghan Lamb, Kendra Fortmeyer, and Gregory Crosby, and you can read their Conversation Hearts at our Instagram page.

We also had the opportunity to host five great apt contributors and AP authors at a reading on Friday night at the Black Squirrel.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

#gallery-1662-1-slideshow .slideshow-slide img { max-height: 410px; /* Emulate max-height in IE 6 */ _height: expression(this.scrollHeight >= 410 ? '410px' : 'auto'); }

Everyone was at the top of their game, and you can watch a snippet of Krysten Hill’s reading, specifically her poem “Prayer” from her recently released chapbook, How Her Spirit Got Out.

We also co-sponsored a candlelight vigil for free speech on Saturday night across the street from the White House, where we heard so many heartening speeches and readings from astounding writers, including Literary Firsts  alum, Melissa Febos, whose speech ended with, (our paraphrase) “A vigil means staying awake and alert during the time when you would normally be asleep. Don’t go to sleep. This vigil is going to last long after we throw these candles away.”

In keeping with that sentiment, we’re committed to staying awake and continuing to resist. We’re working on two events in the Boston area:

First, a marathon reading of Sinclair Lewis’s satirical (though now potentially prescient) political novel, It Can’t Happen Here, which involves a journalist’s fight against the fascist regime of a new president in 1930s US. The reading will be free and open to the public and take approx. 16 hours, but we’re looking forward to it, and we’ll have more info on the date and location soon.

Second, Randolph and I (Carissa) are taking part in the AIDS Walk in June. We’ve done so before as course marshals, but now we’ve assembled an Aforementioned team to walk and raise money and awareness for those living in Boston and Massachusetts with HIV and AIDS. If you’re interested in walking with us, we’d love to have your support! Just visit our page at the AIDS Action Committee site, and click “Join Team.”

And if you’re too far away, or you can’t make it, we hope you’ll consider sending a donation. You can read about where your donation goes at the AAC site.

We feel this cause is particularly important now, with the Affordable Care Act at risk of being eliminated. People with pre-existing conditions will be particularly vulnerable to losing their access to healthcare. We want to help them as much as we can, and we’d love to have your help. Even if you’re not in Boston, and even if you don’t have the means to make a donation, we hope you’ll spread the word and help us reach as many people as possible.

AWP recap, an upcoming marathon reading, plus the 2017 AIDS Walk in Boston was originally published on Aforementioned Productions

[eunoiareview]

Migrations

Long after I’ve left my own children to move back out west, I remember a morning from my childhood. My mother, sitting by the loom, the warm light from the window catching the red in her hair, tells me that my father is a bird.

“He flew away,” she told me, “somewhere south for the winter.”

I misunderstood the metaphor and at school that week I borrowed a pair of binoculars from my best friend. On…

[whiskeypaper]

THAT SUMMER by ANDREW BERTAINA

That summer everyone was involved in a cause. Every street corner had someone holding a sign, telling you to be for or against something, sometimes both on the same corner. It was sweltering that summer. We stashed our freezer with popsicles and ate them on the stoop, while pigeons shat indiscriminately on the sidewalk. When we drove, we left pieces of skin on leather seats, browned our arms as we walked the sidewalks looking for a cause that suited us. We were young and cared about everything. We wanted to be in every protest, holding up signs, sweating through our shirts while we yelled at people to think just like we did. We were so passionate that we wanted to be on both sides, waving signs from across barriers at ourselves while chanting pithy slogans. We wanted to be a part of something larger, to shed our shells like crabs and slip into something new.

You wound up devoting yourself to poetry, and I wound up devoting myself to you. You’d lie awake at night reading Lorca, crying at certain passages, your night gown half-open—collarbone exposed. I'd run my fingers through your hair as if it were silk, as if it were rain, as it were a loom and my hands were thread, as if we would one day get old, as if we would one day be dead, as if we would not exist forever but only inside the eternity of this moment.

We told each other stories as we looked at the stars. You pointed out certain symmetries of night skies and the deaths of famous men. You said that Napoleon and Caesar both died under a full moon, that Mark Antony and Marcus Aurelius died when Neptune was at its brightest, while I listened in the cold, damp, evening. After you’d finished, it would be my turn to lie awake, watching the outline of your ribs, wreathed in skin, rising and falling—such a beautiful liar.

On the way home, while the moon lay like oil on water, I asked why all of our conversations were about dead people. You said you had more in common with them than the living, that they understood you were a kind of labyrinth, and life was a confused searcher. I kissed you on the lips, hard. I said I'd been searching for you all summer, through cups of coffee, trails of cigarette smoke, bits of glass upon the shore, broken fingernails and fingertips, the slight grazing of knees beneath the table. And you turned from me and said, "I’d like to get more coffee,” as if the words were empty.

A week later I was gone, traveling back out west to finish college. I left on a warm summer evening—the sky purpling under a mass of cumulus clouds. After a few miles I stopped thinking of you. I drove through the rice fields—insects pattered like rain against the windshield. By the time I reached San Jose, the dark hills rising sentenially above the valley, I’d forgotten you.

Until tonight, when I was on the roof, stringing Christmas lights from the gutter with the children watching. I told them to throw up more lights, lost my balance and fell. I broke my right arm on the sidewalk. With that, you, and the memory of that summer returned to me. I realized, as I lay there, that I had not missed you in my mind or heart. I had carried you around in my bones. And now you had been released, the night was suffused with you. And as I lay on the cement, beneath a pinkish sky, with my family gathered around me, I thought of you. I thought of that summer, of all the summers that had passed since I’d seen you, and all the summers that would pass without you, enough summers to fill a lifetime.

::

About the Author: Andrew Bertaina is currently living and working in Washington, DC where he obtained an MFA in creative writing from American University. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Broadkill Review, OxMag, Big Lucks, The Wilderness House Literary Review and Fiction Southeast. He am currently a reader and book reviewer for Fiction Southeast.

Story Song: "Avenues" by Whiskeytown

Photo Credit: Elisabeth Clem/Poppy and Pinecone

[mumblingsage]

The Threepenny Review is a fiction journal and Andrew Bertaina’s “A Translator’s Note” is listed as a prose poem on its table of contents. Which isn’t to say it isn’t brilliant, but it is not an actual foreword to a translation of anything

you’ve all heard of “faithful translations” now get ready for “unfaithful translations” where i make my translation say whatever the fuck i want because i think the source material sucks ass

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

The above screenshot didn't feel right. So I checked it. It's not an actual translators note to anything, it's a standalone poem by Andrew Bertaina that was published in a literature journal, and then in an anthology. It's fiction, not meant to be taken seriously and seems to be a satire on the exact topic. I think the person who posted it knew but you know how tumblr is, you post one thing without enough context and it becomes fact.

That's how we invented a Greek goddess once.

(yes I know I'm fun ruiner)

you’ve all heard of “faithful translations” now get ready for “unfaithful translations” where i make my translation say whatever the fuck i want because i think the source material sucks ass

[dragon-says-goodnight]

Also, why on earth would an Icelandic translator have a note, written in English? And Andrew Bertaina is in no way even slightly an Icelandic name.

Also, as far as I can find, the first Iceland translation of Dracula is “Makt Myrkranna” aka “Powers of Darkness”, from 1900.

Hi I'm looking for a specific post, it's an image of the inside page of a book that was translated by this guy who didn't read the original but felt that he was uniquely qualified to translate it anyway because he once saw the author and felt he understood him implicitly at a glance

i don't remember it...

anybody know?

[evas-apartment]

So, this isn't...at all from an Icelandic translation of Dracula. Its a poem, from Andrew Bertaina, compiled by the literary magazine Threepenny Review in 2018.

I was initially confused why it kept taking about Italy, and Italian, considering Dracula was originally in English, and Bram Stoker was Irish, and the Icelandic translation of Dracula, from 1901, was certainly not made by Bertaina, but a man named Valdimar Ásmundsson under the title Makt Myrkranna (Powers of Darkness).

However, and interesting tidbit is that in this Icelandic version, there's a preface by Stoker claiming that Dracula is a true story, and, as Wikipedia notes, character names were changed, the book was abridged, and it was more "overly sexual than the original" so there's that.

Hi I'm looking for a specific post, it's an image of the inside page of a book that was translated by this guy who didn't read the original but felt that he was uniquely qualified to translate it anyway because he once saw the author and felt he understood him implicitly at a glance

i don't remember it...

anybody know?

[there-is-no-romeo]

guys i hate to do this (forgive me if you all already knew this, im bad at telling whether people are joking or not) but

i googled andrew bertaina (cos i was pretty sure dracula was not written in italian, and i had no idea why a translation from italian to icelandic would have an english translators note) and not only was this not written in 1897, but andrew bertaina is alive and well

Hi I'm looking for a specific post, it's an image of the inside page of a book that was translated by this guy who didn't read the original but felt that he was uniquely qualified to translate it anyway because he once saw the author and felt he understood him implicitly at a glance

i don't remember it...

anybody know?