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“The Translation Tango: On Being an Emerging Translator”
I’ve never liked traveling. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed living abroad or visiting the various countries that have welcomed my feet. Rather, it’s something in the physical movement from place to place that unsettles. The movement between cultures and languages is a bodily experience; it marks you, and it can be exhausting to learn…
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“Ulva Lactuca”
Cristina Peri Rossi; Megan Berkobien :: Buy a mattress of… He had wanted to try out a new waterbed, but she had thought it an excessive investment. Investment, no, he corrected himself: an expense. Aboard that aquatic mattress, they could have paddled themselves through life, hardly swaying, rowing – arms crossed, excuse me, in cross,…
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“The Port”
Llucia Ramis; Megan Berkobien :: I remember a hedgehog devoured by ants; we found it near the house and wanted to feed it milk from the tetra-brik carton. It was dead by morning. I remember my brother wanted to taste an ant because the Chinese eat them, so he put it in his mouth while…
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An Interview with Anne Carson
Edited by Matthew Jakubowski :: I first met the pair in their class “Egocircus” at the University of Michigan (an incarnation of the course on collaboration first offered at New York University). The seminar began with a series of curiosities: for example, Currie’s favorite shoes worn days prior were now suddenly relocated on Anne’s feet, and she…
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“All the World’s Men”
Llucia Ramis; Megan Berkobien :: Uncle Joan had a Fiat. The few people who owned cars in Felanitx had to take the others to the warfront at Manacor. The frontlines frightened Uncle Tomeu, Joan’s brother-in-law, and so he offered to accompany him on those trips instead. On the ride there he stood on the door…
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“Milky Way”
Cristina Peri Rossi; Megan Berkobien :: There were so many stars he felt he saw them not only through his eyes, not only did they flood his pupils and retinas and irises and eyelashes and the lake of his brow, but suddenly the stars invaded him, penetrating him through his ears, assailing his hearing, filling…
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“By Night We Howl”
Care Santos; Megan Berkobien :: But, what does a mountain of books matter when compared to the iron bridges, the concrete masses, the skyscrapers hurdled into the void? We heard them fall piece by piece, one by one. First the glass gave way, then the iron and cement frames. The entire city began to corrode.…
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Selections from “Doll House”
Patricia Esteban Erlés; Megan Berkobien :: FRESH MEAT I like opening the fridge and finding you there. Read the full selection here.
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“Music and Petals”
Gabriela Damián; Megan Berkobien :: In the depths of my head the melody booms alongside a groan, deep and dry; the combination submerges me in a thick drowsiness. I feel so heavy that I sink, I feel like all of me is paralyzed, but the strangest part is that it’s not my body that can’t…
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“The Bridge”
Gabriela Damián; Megan Berkobien :: I’m out in the open air, in the sun. The treetops are green and high up. I walk through tall grass, which whispers with the passing of a cool wind, almost cold, reminiscent of early spring. My grandparents’ house, where my aunt lived all her life, stands in front of me…
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