I've been reading After Babel: Aspects of Language and Translation by George Steiner. The book puts forth the idea that translation infuses language with newness and strangeness. At Thanksgiving, my family went around the table and said what they are thankful for. I'll say what I'm thankful for in literature/writing/translation here: new and old friends - A.A., K.M., W.B., B.J.B., P.B., and more - who correspond with me about translation, reading, and examined life, helping me keep my poetry new and strange: a rain of stars indeed!
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Notes for a failed novel
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