He turned his gaze to the sculpted figures above the building’s entrance—mutilated and broken segments of human bodies—but no matter where he looked the dream was still inside him, he couldn’t get rid of it, it was like an aftertaste or a bright light burned into your eye, leaving behind a dark spot in your field of vision.
Han vände blicken mot de skulpterade gestalterna ovanför ingången, halva människokroppar, stympade och sönderbrutna men vart han än såg fanns drömmen ännu inom honom, han blev inte kvitt den, den var som en eftersmak eller ett skarpt ljus inbränt i ögat efterlämnande en skugga i synfältet.
A few years ago I was drawn into the world of translated speculative fiction, and all of that changed.
I was enthralled by the stories and books from around the world that I would never have heard about, or been able to read, without the work of excellent translators.
Όταν μπήκε στο μαγαζί, δούλευα στη γλώσσα μιας πελάτισσας. Της χτυπούσα έναν γαλάζιο ήλιο· σ’ εμένα, βέβαια, φαινόταν ανοιχτός γκρι. Ήθελε να λάμπει το στόμα της με το προσωπικό της χρώμα ακόμα κι όταν ήταν κλειστό. Άκου ιδέα!
When you really love something, it's not enough to enjoy it only through other people's work. I think it is unavoidable that at some point you will try to engage with it, to become something more than a spectator.
We're delighted to finally open our doors to submissions of translated speculative fiction, poetry and related non-fiction. Head on over to our submission guidelines to find out more! (As you can see, our website still needs a bit of polishing before it's as shiny as we want it, but we're getting there!)
Samovar came about because we wanted to discover more about the speculative fiction that was being written, read and discussed in other languages. We were lucky enough to be able to team up with Strange Horizons, who were also wanting to explore more translated fiction, and we're hugely grateful to all those who donated to last year's fund drive, and enabled us to open our doors!…