Compared to the rest of the world Americans have a track record for not reading foreign books.  Our global reputation for being self-centered only adds to this I’m sure, but there is something that we can do as readers and writers to change the stigma against international books.  In 2015, only 570 translated books were published in the U.S.  This number comes from University of Rochester’s translation press, Three Percent, which is named after the margin typically associated with the number of translated books published in the US (although LitHub estimates the number is around 0.7% for literary fiction and poetry).  Why are Americans uninterested in translated fiction?  Why do people often claim they want to read a ‘real’ book instead?  What does our lack of interest in foreign authors convey to the global literary community?

Let me be clear that readers are not the only ones at fault here.  In my hunt for translated books, I have rarely seen them advertised and even less often seen them in stores.  There is definitely a systematic problem at hand here.  However, despite the additional difficulties that translated books may present to a publishing house or a marketing team, I believe that we as readers have the power to influence how frequently translated books make it into our country and onto the bookshelves.  If more Americans were to actively read translated fiction, we could change the stigma against it for the betterment of our community at large.

I started to take an interest in translated books in my first creative writing class when our professor asked us how many of us read non-American authors.  She said, “If you think the publishing world is intimating now”–and as seniors and grad students preparing to face ‘the real world’ we certainly found the idea terrifying–“imagine how difficult it would be to publish a book to the English-speaking world if your writing wasn’t in English.”  This idea sat with me for a long time.  I realized that I couldn’t recall a single author from outside of the US or Western Europe.  I realized that I couldn’t recall a single story I’d written that took place outside of the US or Western Europe.  Both of the universities I had attended emphasized how they were turning us into global citizens, but in that moment I didn’t feel like a global citizen at all.

This realization was particularly puzzling because it felt so against the reason most people give for reading books: to escape.  If readers crack open the cover of a book looking to be transported somewhere else, why do we tend to only read authors who look, think, and speak like us?  If so many Instagramers are filled with wanderlust for new places, why don’t they let books take them there?  Why have writers exhausted the ‘Americans travelling abroad’ trope, yet writers who live in other countries rarely have a voice in our fiction?

There are some readers who have responded to the lack of ethnic and cultural diversity in our literature in fantastic ways, like the organizations Words Without Borders and World Literature Today.  One reader and writer, Ann Morgan, recently completed a challenge she set for herself to read one book translated from every country in the world.  Last year she completed her goal and during her journey, her idea was received so positively that some countries even sent her books for free.  Though I doubt I can carry on at the same rate as Ann Morgan, I have begun my own challenge of a sort by trying to read at least 2 translated books a year.  Next month I’m excited to start Beauty is a Wound by Eka Kurniawan translated from Indonesian to English by Annie Tucker.  If you’re interested in changing the current stigma against translated books, I highly encourage you to invent a similar challenge for yourself.  And if you do, please let me know in the comments what translated book you plan on checking out next!




  1. I got really sad after reading the last few issues of MAR, because each one had a chunk of translated poetry that I really loved, but when I looked the writers up online, I couldn’t find translations of their books. I think that the globalization of culture will start to fix this, albeit slowly, and especially if we as readers start to demand more and more translated works. As someone who wants to broaden his horizons and learn about other histories and cultures, it can be just really exciting and fresh to immerse yourself in a book from another place. Admittedly, I’ve not read as much as I probably could from other languages, although I have read some, some South American and Asian works. It’s definitely a resolution of mine though.


  2. I was thinking about what translated books I have read, and, for the most, they are just “classics” like Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. I couldn’t really even name more than a handful of contemporary translated authors. Even though there aren’t many translated authors, they’re obviously still out there and I don’t seek them out, and I was thinking about why that is for me personally. I find that a reason I don’t like reading translated books, even though they provide a unique perspective on the world and allow new voices to be heard, is that I always feel like it isn’t the author’s voice I’m hearing. I’m always hearing an approximation of the author’s words. It is not what the author wrote; it’s what the translator interpreted the author’s words as. This is really something I should get over because I am still getting the story (which is generally the important part) and the translation is “close enough” to get the messages the author wanted to convey. I think your goal of 2 translated books a year is manageable so I think I will be taking up that challenge too.


    • Yesss awesome you’ll have to let me know what you decide to read! Yeah the relationship between translator and author is certainly interesting, but many authors today select their translator to be someone who can recreate their writing style, so that’s kind of cool. It would be interesting though to look up if there were ever any translators who the authors felt did a bad job and what happened next.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s