My Year in Books: 2022

Abridged: The Grand Inquisitor by Dostoyevsky

“I am in the wrong city/speaking the wrong language”: The Italian Professor’s Wife by Ann Pedone

This must have been what Amichai was talking about when he crafted the image of translators’ fleeing a conference where their desks had been set on fire: 19 Ways of Looking at Wang Wei (with more ways) by Eliot Weinberger, + all of Octavio Paz’s interventions within the book + Russel Maeth’s Para leer “Nineteen Ways…”.

Reading the kind of poetry I’d aspire to write one day: Leadbelly by Tyehimba Jess, Blackacre by Monica Youn, Darwin by Ruth Padel; Pictures from Breughel and Other Poems by William Carlos Williams

Learning the craft:  The Art of Daring, by Carl Phillips

The Seamus Heaney Syllabus: All of it. 

But then I also met Jack Spicer, posthumously: After Lorca, The Holy Grail, Golem.

The Sealey Challenge (not all completed in August): Frank O’Hara, Lunch Poems; John Ashbery, Houseboat Days; John Ashbery, Some Trees; Sylvia Plath, The Colossus and Other Poems; Amiri Baraka (LeRoi Jones), Preface to a Twenty-Volume Suicide Note; James Tate, The Lost Pilot; Jorie Graham, Hybrids of Plants and of Ghosts; Sharon Olds, Satan Says; James Schuyler, The Morning of the Poem; Kenneth Koch, Selected Poems; Tracy K. Smith, The Body’s Question ; Richard Siken, Crush; Ada Limón, Lucky Wreck; Shane McCrae, Mule; Eavan Boland, The Historians; Barbara Guest, The Location of Things; Alice Notely, Selected Poems; Chris Abani, Smoking the Bible; Ezequiel Zaidenwerg, Lyric Poetry is Dead; Achy Obejas, Bumerán/Boomerang; Rachel Kaufman, Many to Remember; Molly McCully Brown, The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded; Eileen Myles, I Must Be Living Twice; Bernadette Mayer, A Bernadette Mayer Reader; Leonard Cohen, Let Us Compare Mythologies; Lisa Richter, Nautilus and Bone; Nathaniel Perry, The Long Rules; Ilya Kaminsky, Dancing in Odessa; Solmaz Sharif, Look; Diane Seuss, frank: sonnets; Jessica Greenbaum, Inventing Difficulty

Other Brooklyn Poets’ miscellany: Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman 

Discomfitingly timely: Where the Jews Aren’t by Masha Gessen

Saw the ad for the TV series, wasn’t super interested in watching but did want to read the book it was based on: Tokyo Vice by Josh Adelstein

Kept falling asleep in the middle of chapter five: Silverview by John LeCarré

Surprisingly, as bad as the internet said it was, DNF: The Ink Black Heart by Robert Galbreith

Keep going back to him: A Nest of Vipers by Andrea Camilleri

I know I’ve said it before, but what I like about my current book project is the way it blurs the lines between what I read for pleasure and what I read for work: The Moor’s Last Sigh (for about the sixth time) by Salman Rushdie;  The Last Anglo-Jewish Gentleman by Todd Endelmann.

Philologists behaving badly: The Latinist by Mark Prins, Babel by Rebecca Kuang

A Personal Seamus Heaney Syllabus

Following my surprising foray into poetry? as a pandemic project, I applied for and was accepted into a yearlong program at Brooklyn Poets — lots of writing, lots of reading, lots of critique, lots of class. One of the elements of the program is that each participant chooses a poet to do a yearlong deep-dive read. Because I’m particularly interested in translation and reworking medieval texts, I’ve chosen Seamus Heaney. I feel a little intimidated about having to be intelligent about the work of a poet that is totally out of my context, as if I should be able to jump in and be brilliant just because I already know how to read text; but if I can screw up my courage, I’ll try to blog my way through reading Heaney’s oeuvre. 

I’ve kept the secondary literature to a minimum, partly so that I’m approaching the poetry without it being filtered through others’ readings first, and partly, honestly, just because there are still only 24 hours in a day and I have an academic book, a trade book, and a translation that I’m also supposed to be working on, plus all the other stuff… But in any case,  what I’m reading this year is after the jump:

Continue reading “A Personal Seamus Heaney Syllabus”

My Year in Books: 2021

The idiosyncratically categorized record of my 2021 book reading:

Carried over from last year: Dante’s Inferno

Reading comprehension was never going to be the issue in Project #SarahLearnsItalian, but I’m really proud of myself for this all the same: Se questo è un uomo by Primo Levi

I’m starting to toy more seriously with the idea of doing an MFA, but decided to take some one-off classes before committing to a whole degree; this is what I read there: Just Us by Claudia Rankine; The Source of Self-Regard by Toni Morrison; In The Heart of Texas by Ginger McKnight-Chavers; Appropriate by Paisley Rekdal

And I’ve also been reading more poetry: Invasive Species by Marwa Helal; Hapax by A.E. Stallings; Accepting the Disaster by Joshua Mehigan; Playlist for the Apocalypse by Rita Dove

And especially prose poetry: Mean by Miriam Gurba; The Fire Eater by José Hernández Díaz

…and specifically some models of academics also writing poetry: The Day of Shelley’s Death by Renato Rosaldo; A Tithe of Salt by Ray Ball

I’m not the audience for this: Guide of the Perplexed by Dara Horn

I’m not the audience for this and was pleasantly surprised by how much I liked it and how well I thought it worked: The Unquiet Dead by Ausma Zehanat Khan

And so I continued reading the series: The Language of SecretsAmong the Ruins (I’m listening to the audiobooks and I wasn’t crazy about how the narrator handled all the accents in this one), and A Dangerous Crossing.

Skip it if you listen to the podcast: RedHanded by Suruthi Bala and Hannah Maguire, audiobook read by the authors

People take both Goodreads and Twitter way too seriously: Leaving isn’t the Hardest Thing by Lauren Hough

I needed a break from George Smiley: The Russia House by John LeCarré

And then I went back to George Smiley: The Honourable Schoolboy, Smiley’s People

This wasn’t a book I thought I’d go back and reread, but I did after watching The Unlikely Murderer on Netflix: The Man Who Played With Fire by Jan Stocklassa

Now I want to read everything that the author has written, so I’ll get started on that in the new year: The Netanyahus by Joshua Cohen

Best of the year: The Netanyahus, and Mean

My Year in Books: 2017 (Part 2)

Normally I don’t include my academic reading in my year-end roundup, but I wanted to keep track of what I accomplished on my sabbatical so I have a running list already prepared. I didn’t end up reading exactly what I expected. I thought that I would sit and read a lot of Arabic text since I had time to work without interruption. However, I found that just coming off of finishing the book that has had me tied to my desk chair since 2011-12, I didn’t just didn’t want to sit at my desk. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to work or to read, but I wanted to not be in a desk chair at a desk. I read out of doors and, since the weather was mostly disgusting in the summer and then, suddenly, freezing, with very little in between, on my couch in my living room. The little table-sitting that I did was devoted to working on a translation project that is ongoing. I didn’t have the wherewithal for another semester of all-day desk-sitting, so I translated in the morning and read, took notes, and wrote while sitting on the couch in the afternoons. Like translating, reading medieval Arabic text is a desk activity, and so it just didn’t happen that much; it was one or the other in terms of desk time and I wanted to make some progress on that project, which had stalled while I finished my book. Realistically, I was also just mentally exhausted from finishing the book and tenure, and reading text is a taxing activity; certainly far moreso than reading scholarship.  In a certain respect, keeping this list has gotten me to think about habits of reading and the physicality that governs them. I thought that the long stretch of time would be good for reading text, but it was actually better for reading scholarship precisely because of how I was prepared to sit or not sit after years of a very specific kind of sitting. I’m hoping that now that I’m back to teaching, where I’ll have blocks of time where I’m on my feet, blocks of time where I’m prepping classes (which I can do anywhere), and blocks of time in meetings — that is, I’ll have lots of different physical modes of being at work — that I’ll be able to put in an extra hour or two of desk time, both physically and mentally. (I’m also hoping this doesn’t sound completely bonkers.)

With that said, here’s the mostly-complete list of what I read this semester with an eye toward reading widely and starting to think about the intellectual setting and framework for my next book:

Altschul, Nadia and Kathleen Davis, ed. Medievalisms in the Postcolonial World: The Idea of “The Middle Ages” Outside Europe. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2009.

Benor, Sarah Bunin. “Jewish English,” in A Handbook of Jewish Languages, ed. Lily Khan. Leiden: Brill, 2016. 130-7.

—. “Do American Jews Speak a ‘Jewish Language’?: A Model of Jewish Linguistic Distinctiveness,” Jewish Quarterly Review 99:2 (2009): 230-69.

Bishop, Chris. Medievalist Comics and the American Century. Jackson: The University Press of Mississippi, 2016.

Calderwood, Eric. “Franco’s Hajj: Moroccan Pilgrims, Spanish Fascism, and the Unexpected Journey of Modern Arabic Literature,” PMLA 135:5 (2017): 1097-1116.

Coope, Jessica. The Most Noble of People. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 2017.

Dangler, Jean. Edging Toward Iberia. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2017.

Derrida, Jacques. “Like the Sound of the Sea Deep Within a Shell: Paul de Man’s War,” Critical Inquiry 14:3 (1988): 590-652.

Dockray-Miller, Mary. Public Medievalism, Racism, and Suffrage in the American Women’s Colleges. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017.

Efron, John M. German Jewry and the Allure of the Sephardic. Princeton: UP, 2016.

—. “Scientific Racism and the Mystique of Sephardic Racial Superiority,” The Leo Baeck Institute Year Book 38:1 (1993): 75-96.

Guichard, Pierre. Los reinos de taifas: Fragmentación política y esplendor cultural. Málaga: Editorial Sarriá, 2005.

Hernández Cruz, Victor. In the Shadow of al-Andalus. Minneapolis: Coffee House Books, 2011.

Herman, David. “Narrative Worldmaking in Graphic Life Writing,” in Graphic Subjects: Critical Essays on Autobiography and Graphic Novels, ed. Michael Chaney. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2011. 231-43.

Hever, Hanan. Suddenly, the Sight of War. Stanford: UP, YEAR.

Horn, Dara. “The Future of Yiddish in English,” Jewish Quarterly Review 96 (2006): 471-80.

Judt, Tony. A Grand Illusion?: An Essay on Europe. New York: UP, 2011.

León, María Teresa. Doña Jimena Díaz de Vivar: Gran señora de todos los deberes. Madrid: Castalia, 2004 reprint.

—. La Historia tiene la palabra: Noticia sobre el salvamiento del Tesoro artístico de España. Madrid: Endymion, 2009.

Marx, Karl. “On the Jewish Question,” in The Early Writings. New York: Penguin.

Moretti, Franco. Distant Reading. New York: Verso Books, 2013.

Muñoz Molina, Antonio. Córdoba de los omeyas. Madrid: Seix Barral, 1991.

Nirenberg, David. Anti-Judaism.

Ozick, Cynthia. “America: Toward Yavneh,” in What is Jewish Literature?, ed. Hana Wirth-Nesher. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1994. 20-35.

Rashid, Hussein, “Truth, Justice, and the Spiritual Way: Imam Ali as Superhero,” in Muslim Superheroes: Comics, Islam, and Representation, ed. A. David Lewis and Martin Lund. Boston: Harvard University Press, 2017.

Ravitzky, Aviezer. The Roots of Kahanism: Consciousness and Political Reality. Jerusalem: The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1986.

REDACTED, Prof. Dr. REDACTED. REDACTED: A book I reviewed in manuscript, confidentially, for a press. REDACTED: REDACTED Press. Forthcoming, inshallah, 2018.

Rein, Raanan. “Echoes of the Spanish Civil War in Palestine: Zionists, Communists, and the Contemporary Press,” Journal of Contemporary History 43:1 (2008) 9-23.

Rennger, N.J. “The neo-medieval global polity,” in International Relations: Theory and the Politics of European Integration, ed. Morten Kelstrup and Michael Williams. New York: Routledge, 2000. 57-71.

Rodríguez, Ana A. “Mapping Islam in the Philippines: Moro Anxieties of the Spanish Empire in the Pacific,” in The Dialectics of Orientalism in Early Modern Europe, eds. Keller, Marcus and Javiero Irigoyen García. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017. 85-100.

Rosser-Owen. Maryam. Islamic Arts from Spain. London: V&A Publishing. YEAR?

Roth, Laurence. “Innovation and Orthodox Comic Books: The Case of Mahrwood Press,” Multi-Ethnic Literature of the United States 37:2 (2012): 131-56.

Salgado, Minoli. “The Politics of Palimpsest in The Moor’s Last Sigh,” in The Cambridge Companion to Salman Rushdie, ed. Abdulrazak Gurnah. Cambridge: UP, 2007. 153-68.

Schirmann, Jefim. “Samuel Hanagid: The Man, the Soldier, the Politician,” Jewish Social Studies 13:2 (1951): 99-126.

—. “The Wars of Samuel Ha-Nagid,” Zion

Schorsch, Ismar. “The Myth of Sephardic Supremacy,” The Leo Baeck Institute Yearbook 34:1 (1989): 47-66.

Stein, Sarah Abrevaya. “Sephardi and Middle Eastern Jewries Since 1492,” in The Oxford Handbook of Jewish Studies, ed. Martin Goodman, et al. Oxford: UP: 2002. ##.

Tabachnick, Steven E, ed. The Cambridge Companion to the Graphic Novel. Cambridge: UP, 2017.

—. The Quest for Jewish Belief and Identity in the Graphic Novel. Tuscaloosa: The University of Alabama Press, 2014.

El-Tayyib, Fatima. European Others: Queering Ethnicity in Postnational Europe. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2011.

Unamuno, Miguel de. Gramática y glosario del Poema del Cid. Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1977.

Viguera Molins, María Jesús. “El Cid en las fuentes árabes,” in Actas del Congreso Internacional El Cid, Poema e Historia, ed. César Hernández Alonso. Burgos: Ayuntamineto de Burgos, 2000.

Wilson, G. Willow. “Machina ex Deus: Perennialism in Comics,” in Graven Images: Religion in Comic Books and Graphic Novels, ed. A. David Lewis. New York: Continuum Publishing, 2010. 249-56.

Zihri, Oumelbanine. “A Capitve Library Between Spain and Morocco,” in The Dialectics of Orientalism in Early Modern Europe, eds. Keller, Marcus and Javiero Irigoyen García. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017. 17-31

Translating in a Time of Trump

(Or, How To Think Like a Literary Terrorist)

It is with absolute glee that I have returned to the literary translation project that I had to shelve 18 months ago in the interest of finishing my work and doing the kind of work that would count towards making me tenurable. Yes, I still have a bee in my bonnet about peer review and about what “counts,” but let’s shelve that for the moment in the interest of talking about a strange new nexus between literature and terrorism.

In the course of yesterday’s work, I arrived at a passage that discusses the Umayyad practice of crucifying convicts and the fear and displeasure it could inspire in the citizens of the capital city of Córdoba:

The promenade stretched out at the foot of the wall on the right bank of the river, unspooling a thread of fortresses and, sometimes, of crosses; for that is where the bodies of executed convicts were placed on public display. Amongst the smells of Córdoba that texts have preserved for us, one we have to overcome is the stench of rotting human flesh. Not for nothing does Ibn Khaldun (who knew everything) affirm that in the cities the air is cut with the putrid breath of filth and only thanks to the constant movement of people do waves of fresh air disperse those immovable humors.”

And because this is work for a general audience of readers, and because Islamophobic crimes and terrorist attacks have risen by order’s of magnitude since last year‘s presidential election, I found myself pausing to wonder how some general readers might misapprehend or misappropriate this graphic, smelly passage.

The white nationalists, Klansmen, neo-Nazis, sons of the Confederacy, and general racists, Islamophobes, and anti-Semites who have been dominating the news more and more (no, really, in spite of Trump having ruined that phrase for us, too) have shown themselves beyond willing to use the Middle Ages and classical antiquity to further their claims of religious hegemony and racial superiority. (For examples, see recent public interventions by my colleagues here, here, here, here, here, and here.) Their rhetoric is confused. On the one hand they use the term “medieval” to mean backwards and to criticize Islam. But on the other hand, they idealize the medieval as a time of racial purity. Crusading rhetoric has become commonplace in current political discourse. The Middle Ages is fair game for the racists who have proven themselves, over and over again, a hundred years ago and today, willing to kill for their cause.

The city walls of Córdoba during the Cruces de Mayo festival this year.

One of the terrible things about terrorism is that you have to start to think like a terrorist just to go about daily life: When I pack to go to the airport, I have to think about whether anything I’m packing might be or look like something I could hijack or crash or blow up a plane with just to be able to get through security. I have to think about the most logical path for a gunman through a building to be able to have an escape-or-barricade plan in mind just in case, to be able protect myself day to day. I wouldn’t think about how to crash planes or shoot people in buildings otherwise but for the rise of terrorism and my need to go on with my life around it and around the security (theater) measures it has necessitated. Terrorism breeds terroristic thinking.

And now — do I have to think like an Islamophobe or a white supremacist just to be able to do my work and do no harm? I must take into account how my translation project about medieval Islam might be used against modern, flesh-and-blood Muslims by white nationalist terrorists. I have to wonder whether the above passage might be seized out of the historical and narrative context of late antique and early Islamic crucifixion and out of the context of the love letter to Córdoba that I am translating and used instead to demonize any and all Muslims, medieval and modern, as… I don’t know. I don’t want to have to get seven feet ahead of deadly hatred by imagining hatred. I don’t want to be the one who demonizes my academic subjects and my friends, even if it is to protect them. These are lines I will not cross.

I find myself in a quandary: If I go ahead with this project, if I put this paragraph out in the world, I might be putting ammunition into the hands of terrorists. But if I quash it, I let those same terrorists dictate nothing less than the very course of history, medieval and modern; they would limit what people could know about the Middle Ages and limit what people in the present could say about it.

I will confess an unpopular opinion here: I am a free-speech absolutist. Incitement to violence? No way. But short of that? Sure. Even after this weekend I’m still the Jew who believes that Nazis should be allowed to march down Main St. and that I should then denounce them long and loud. I believe that we fight speech with speech. It’s a position that has been sullied lately by white dudebros who don’t really understand or believe in free speech, but rather who feel entitled, but it is one that is still carefully thought and actively defended by organizations such as the ACLU. (This Twitter thread by my colleague David Perry is a useful and clear articulation of the difference and the consequences.)

This is not a decision I take lightly or unaware of the potential real-world consequences. But I will translate, I will publish, and if it all goes badly wrong I will fight speech with speech and hope that it will be enough.