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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...

It’s Sunday, after lunch The sun hovers, full up The houses – the tarmac, the lampposts, the cars in the driveways – glitter in the heat Everyone is inside, or at the back, in pools of velveteen shade The sun pervades, making everyone sleepy Cold, numbing drinks A little snooze later Prepare for Monday Recharge The wood cladding on these houses absorbs the heat, keeps the houses cool It’s Nordic, the developers had said, cool in summer warm in winter It was ingenious to build on this land, which had been previously impossible to develop Low ground, near to the ancient waterways, prone to flooding Amazing technology The houses sit like rows of teeth in the landscape, a yawning, half-smile that trails off, giving way to pasture and, beyond that, the marshes The fields roll out for miles, sinking lower towards the horizon Beyond, barely visible through the haze that rises from the marshland, the shape of an island     A woman stands at the sink, rinsing plates, putting them into the dishwasher Crumbs on the table, half-empty glasses with fingerprints, smears of gravy The woman’s eyes itch with tears The family have gone to their rooms When the dishes are all rinsed and stacked and the table wiped, the woman goes out to the garage There’s a naked man in there, wrapped in plastic He’s not dead He’s not alive either    *   I mean you no harm I promise You know that, don’t you? I wouldn’t hurt you I couldn’t, even if I wanted to Which I don’t I am here to help you I am here to make your life easier I want your life to be easier I want you to be happy I want you to relax and be happy If you like, we can get in the car and take a drive We’ve got the whole day and I’m here for you I’m here to do whatever it is that you want to do I know, I know, it’s strange, isn’t it? It’s probably going to take some getting used to But I’m

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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Interview

February 2016

Interview with Gerard Byrne

Izabella Scott

Interview

February 2016

I first encountered Gerard Byrne’s eerily dislocated films at Tate Britain, where 1984 and Beyond (2005–7) was shown on...

poetry

August 2016

No Holds Barred

Rodrigo Rey Rosa

TR. Brian Hagenbuch

poetry

August 2016

Hello. Dr Rivers’ clinic? Thank you. Yes. Yes, doctor, I would like to be your patient. With your permission,...

fiction

August 2013

How to Be an American

Will Heinrich

fiction

August 2013

Begin with a man on the beach. The sea is strangely iridescent, lighter in its lights and blacker in...

 

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