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George Szirtes
George Szirtes's many books of poetry have won various prizes including the T. S. Eliot Prize (2004), for which he is again shortlisted for Bad Machine (2013). His translation of László Krasznahorkai's Satantango (2013) was awarded the Best Translated Book Award in the US. The act of translation is, he thinks, bound to involve fidelity, ambiguity, confusion and betrayal.

Articles Available Online


Foreword: A Pound of Flesh

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Issue No. 12

George Szirtes

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Issue No. 12

1.   ANALOGIES FOR TRANSLATION ARE MANY, most of them assuming a definable something on one side of the equation – a fixed original...

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January 2014

Afterword: The Death of the Translator

George Szirtes

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January 2014

1. The translator meets himself emerging from his lover’s bedroom. So much for fidelity, he thinks. 2. Je est...

Keith was not the songwriter Darren and Stewart wrote the songs Keith hit things, some of which were drums He came in one day with a song and nobody wanted to play it The song was the least of their problems They had signed with a label, so their music was used in adverts and that, it brought in some dosh, they were shameless rock sluts because the fans downloaded the songs for free Slutdom was not the issue The issue was that the contract would not let them do independent gigs Keith had had an argument with them because the Arctic Monkeys, look at the fucking Arctic Monkeys, why the fuck can’t we do what the fucking Arctic Monkeys, this being the capacity for inarticulate rage which had made him a drummer in the first   And Darren and Stewart, being songwriters, had talked and talked and talked and talked to the point that there were signatures on the contract   Then the inconceivable had happened which is that Thom Yorke sent an email inviting them to do a gig Keith said they should just do it, fuck the fucking contract but Darren and stewart   So then Keith was very quiet Never a good sign Given Keith’s known propensity to hit things other than drums So Darren said they would record the song       Keith tried to explain his concept and Darren and Stewart kept arsing about and then Sean the keyboardist sussed that it was an arsing about session and then Keith put down his sticks Darren, Stewart and Sean sussed that the beat was gone Keith, says Darren What the fuck Keith disengaged from the scaffolding of things that could be hit that made noise   He stood up he walked across the floor while Darren, Stewart and Sean varied the theme of   What the fuck He took the mic from Darren In addition to not being a songwriter Keith was not a singer he dragged the lyrics of the song over reluctant vocal chords and spat them into the mic fucking great man said Darren who did not want another guitar percussioned to subatomic particles against wall,

Contributor

August 2014

George Szirtes

Contributor

August 2014

George Szirtes’s many books of poetry have won various prizes including the T. S. Eliot Prize (2004), for which...

Shine On You Crazy Diamond

poetry

November 2013

George Szirtes

poetry

November 2013

And so they shone, every one of them, each crazy, everyone a diamond shining the way things shine, each becoming a gleam in his...
Rescue Me

poetry

November 2013

George Szirtes

poetry

November 2013

Pain comes like this: packaged in a moment of hubris with a backing band too big for its own good. It isn’t the same...

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poetry

Issue No. 18

Two New Poems

Dorothea Lasky

poetry

Issue No. 18

Do You Want To Dip The Rat   Do you want to dip the rat Completely in oil  ...

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March 2013

Celan Reads Japanese

Yoko Tawada

TR. Susan Bernofsky

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March 2013

There are some who claim that ‘good’ literature is actually untranslatable.  Before I could read German, I found this...

fiction

November 2016

Somnoproxy

Stuart Evers

fiction

November 2016

The day’s third hotel suite faced westwards across the harbour, its picture window looking down over the boats and...

 

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