John Self 

The best recent translated fiction – review roundup

The Ferryman and His Wife by Frode Grytten; Woman in the Pillory by Brigitte Reimann; Iran+100, edited by various; Sea Now by Eva Meijer
  
  

Hamnoy fishing village on Lofoten Islands at dawn. Norway with red rorbu houses in winter. A fishing boats at dawn in the fjord. Red boat in the sunlight. Reine district
A ferryman takes a final boat trip in Frode Grytten’s The Ferryman and His Wife. Photograph: Anatoly Gordienko/Getty Images

The Ferryman and His Wife by Frode Grytten, translated by Alison McCullough (Serpent’s Tail, £12.99)
On the last day of his life – how does he know? He just does – Norwegian ferryman Nils Vik takes a final boat trip, alone after a lifetime helping others. He remembers those he has ferried, including actor Edward G Robinson; Miss Norway 1966, who was “declared the most beautiful woman in the nation and won a Fiat 850”; and young gay man Jon, who was bullied by his father, then drowned in a car, channelling the Smiths: “What a heavenly way to die … to die by his lover’s side.” That blend of light and dark runs through the novel, but the person Nils really misses is his late wife Marta. He masks his turmoil (“After the storm … there’s no evidence. Only the calm blue surface”), and tries to remember the happy times. He recalls his daughter taking him to see a play. “What did you like about it?” “Everything.” The reader understands.

Woman in the Pillory by Brigitte Reimann, translated by Lucy Jones (Penguin Classics, £10.99)
When a German farm needs extra manpower during the second world war while farmer Heinrich is off fighting for the Third Reich, a Russian prisoner of war, Alexei, is brought in to help. Frieda, Heinrich’s sister, treats him like dirt (“they’re only half-human”), but Heinrich’s young wife, Kathrin, is charmed, and then some. When she sees him showering outside and they make eye contact, “a jolt went through her as if she’d been caught doing something wicked”. The story goes inward and outward at once, showing Kathrin and Alexei’s claustrophobic relationship, and the social pressures of xenophobia and sexism. Women who have affairs are publicly shamed, except for one who is pregnant by an SS officer. “Every woman ought to feel proud,” her husband is told. The story twists and twists again, right up to the perfectly satisfying ending.

Iran + 100, edited by Fereshteh Ahmadi, Peter Adrian Behravesh and Leila Elder, translated by various (Comma, £10.99)
Ten Iranian authors imagine Iran in 2053, a century after the US- and UK-backed coup that overthrew the democratically elected government. In one story, Iran must pour away its sanctioned oil, and a man uses the public ceremony as cover to fake his own death. In another, a further revolution has taken place, with men subjugated by women, and strictures enforced by drones. “Once feared clerics were sent to the same prisons they’d once filled. Only this time, the guards were women. They called it therapy.” One highlight is a mesmerising satire in which a man leaps from a window and remains suspended, prevented from being allowed to fall to his death as punishment for western involvement in the 1953 coup. A later story, with the amplitude of a novel, features temporal voids that show the future and terrify the government. This is an imaginative, audacious, exciting collection.

Sea Now by Eva Meijer, translated by Anne Thompson Melo (Peirene, £12.99)
When a collapse in the Gulf Stream causes the sea to reclaim the Netherlands, a kilometre per day, there’s panic over what to do. Businesses see an opportunity (“Four life jackets for the price of three!”), while most people evacuate, except those calling themselves “remainers”, who believe the flooding is a “LEFT WING CONSPIRACY”. Meijer has fun switching between a series of characters: the prime minister (other countries, he hopes, “would be overjoyed at the arrival of the Dutch”); members of a pressure group Sea Now! (“We must take our lead from the sea now”); and a newsreader reduced to broadcasting on YouTube (“Don’t forget to like and subscribe”). It’s so lively that when the tone changes, and a group of young people return later on a boat to explore the old country, the silence and serenity are mesmerising.

 

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