Category Archives: European

Thermae Romae II by Mari Yamazaki, translated by Stephen Paul

Thermae Romae 2To get to know our time-traveling bather, start with Volume I. When in Thermae Romae, you need to do as this Roman does and find out how he journeys back and forth between far-spanning centuries and cultures with one thing in common – an obsession with the bath.

If the cover looks familiar, Osamu Tezuka Cultural Prize-winning creator Mari Yamazaki explains how she risked marital peace to parody “one of the greatest works of ancient Roman sculpture,” Laocoön and His Sons. In spite of her husband’s angry reaction, she insists that her version of Laocoön “wearing a shampoo hat to keep the shampoo out of his eyes” is not such a far stretch: “I’m sure Laocoön washed his fair from time to time, and if he did massage his scalp, he certainly must have struck poses like the one on the cover.” You’ll find that sort of goofy humor on almost every page, all the while learning quite a bit about ancient Roman history, and modern Japanese bathing culture. Yamazaki will entertainingly convince you how such two seemingly disparate topics are actually quite related.

As Volume II begins, Lucius is a favorite of Emperor Hadrian, renowned as the innovative bath architect. In an act of potentially fatal jealousy, Senate members plot to get Lucius out of Rome with a ruse about a creating a new thermae in an area overrun by violent bandits. What happens instead is a bit of brilliant marketing, inspired by Lucius’ timely visit to a Japanese hot spring town where he wins big at a game booth, discovers kitschy souvenirs, and tastes his first bowl of steaming ramen and juicy gyoza. With further unpredictable forays into the land of the “flat-faces” (the phrase still bugs me, but not quite as much this second time around), Lucius learns to build a wooden barrel single bath shippable to the hinterlands, and how to balance the most gaudiest demands with just enough elegantly-tempered details.

Then half-way through the volume, Hadrian’s adopted heir (profligately portrayed by Yamazaki with apologies later – artistic license, right?) dies. With Hadrian’s own health less than robust, Lucius becomes determined to create something soothingly rejuvenating for his Imperator. His search magically sends him to meet “such a beautiful flat-face” as he’s never seen before … who just happens to be an ancient Roman scholar who speaks perfect Latin! Talk about back to the future … in centur-ion leaps!

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2013 (United States)

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Middle Grade Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Translation, European, Japanese

Hello in There! A Big Sister’s Book of Waiting by Jo Witek, illustrated by Christine Roussey

Hello In ThereFor anyone with a child who will soon become an older sibling, this book is IT. And if that lucky elder happens to be a sister-in-waiting, this couldn’t be more perfect.

“You’re in there and I’m out here, outside Mama’s belly. I’m waiting for you!” the ineffable little girl announces to the bump that is her mother’s belly. As the pregnancy progresses, the colorful bulge on the left side of each double-page spread continues to grow; a small flap allows a growing peek into the sleeping, pink-cheeked bundle within as the little girl merrily demonstrates what a wonderful older sister she will be!

She offers a light in case the belly is too dark, is ready to share her favorite sweet surprises (as are the ants, ahem), draws bathtime pictures of possible family resemblances, sings songs, and announces her excitement: “You are already part of the family.” With her mother’s belly about to burst, she beckons, “… we’re all waiting for you. Come out and play!” with promises of all the adventures she’s planning to share.

Then, momentarily, the belly disappears (a blank page save for a few words) … until Mommy and Daddy’s legs walk back on the next page … and sure enough, “Hello, Baby! You’re finally here. And I am finally a Big Sister!”

Exuberant and charming, adorable and playful, imaginative and interactive, Hello is … well … literally perfect.

Readers: Children

Published: 2013 (United States)

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Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Fiction, .Translation, European, Nonethnic-specific

Thermae Romae I by Mari Yamazaki, translated by Stephen Paul

Thermae RomaeRome, 128 AD. Even back then architects had a hard time finding work. Poor, poor Lucius – in spite of his fancy Athens training, his designs are considered “half-baked,” and he finds himself “blacklisted out of the industry.” Instead of sulking, an old friend convinces him to go soaking … in a public bath, the ancient Roman answer to all problems.

Somehow he gets himself pulled into a mysterious drain … and pops up in modern Japan, of course in a traditional bath. Understandably bewildered, Lucius has enough wits to make mental notes, so when he miraculous time-travels back home, his next bathhouse design is a local sensation – complete with ‘out-of-the-world’ improvements including calming wall murals, weekly announcement boards, clothing baskets for customers, and refreshing milk drinks (Yakult, anyone?).

Volume I includes 10 such time-traveling ‘research trips’ for Lucius, whose growing reputation eventually gets him noticed by Emperor Hadrian. And, of course, the aging leader must have a unique bath of his own! Lucius continues to entice the public with his latest designs – from outdoor hot springs to water slides (!) – based on what he learns from the modern, bath-obsessed Japanese. Each chapter is yet another bubbly adventure.

For award-winning creator Mari Yamazaki, “Rome & Baths” are the loves of her life: “Perhaps shared nakedness in the presence of hot water is a basic principle of peace,” she muses. If only world leaders could be so easily convinced, ahem!

At the end of each chapter, Yamazaki offers an entertaining mixture of Roman history, cultural insight, and personal experiences, all about baths and bathing from around over the world. As delightful as this inaugural volume is, my one cringe-inducing complaint might be Yamazaki’s reference to “those flat-faces,” complete with occasional caricatured, stereotypical representations whenever Lucius gets sucked out of his universe. I’d like to think that since Yamazaki herself is Japanese-born, with peripatetic stopovers in the Middle East, Italy, and Portugal, and being currently Chicago-domiciled, hers is such a broad, international outlook that my discontent is merely a sign of my own oversensitive training. That’s what I’m telling myself for now, because I utterly admit I’m certainly looking forward to sharing more of Lucius’ hothouse innovations. Volume 2 debuts in May …

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2012 (United States)

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Graphic Novel/Manga/Manwha, .Translation, European, Japanese

Odette’s Secrets by Maryann Macdonald

Odette's SecretsI’m compelled to start backwards with a number: 84. As children’s writer (more than 25 times over) Maryann Macdonald explains in her ending “Author’s Note,” 84% of French children survived the horrors of World War II; in fact, “more children survived in France than in any other European country.” Macdonald, rightfully asks, “How did this happen?” When she happened on a copy of Doors to Madame Mariethe autobiography of Odette Meyers, one of the French children who managed to survive, at the American Library of Paris, she knew she had a story to tell …

“My name is Odette,” Macdonald’s compelling novel-in-verse for younger readers begins. “I live in Paris, / … My hair is curly. / Mama ties ribbons in it. / Papa reads to me and buys me toys. / I have everything I could wish for, / except a cat.” Odette is just 8 when “[a] funny-looking many with a mustache / shouts a speech. / His name is Hitler” – and war begins.

Life changes quickly, as Jewish homes are raided and destroyed, Odette’s father joins the French Army, and all Jewish people over the age of 6 must prominently display the yellow star on their clothing. “‘What makes us Jews?’ / I ask Mama one night,” for Odette’s family doesn’t go to synagogue, and “Mama and Papa don’t believe in religion.” The best answer she can understand is that “All our relatives are Jews, / so we are Jews.”

While living in constant fear, Odette and her mother’s greatest ally is Madame Marie, the apartment building’s caretaker with her husband, Monsieur Henri. The couple will save mother and daughter from the middle-of-the-night round-ups, protect Odette when her mother must flee, then securely deliver Odette to the messenger who will take her to shelter in the French countryside.

Safety for Odette comes at the cost of her very identity. No one can know that she’s Jewish, and so she must learn to be just like the other village children – by reciting the same prayers, invoking the same saints, going to Mass every Sunday. For a young child who grew up without religion, her new exposure to Catholicism brings her both comfort and conflict. “I know the reason I feel safe in the country. / It’s because here, / I am not a Jew. / In Paris, I am a Jew.”

Hidden in plain sight, Odette survives war, although she can never wholly escape its horrors. She is bullied and attacked by the same children who were her friends, and she falls silent from the relentless fear and trauma. She will not know who – or what – she is, living a lie, in order to live.

Like The Hidden Girls Lola Rein, Odette’s survival depended heavily on the assistance and protection of non-Jews; unlike Lola who was forced into hiding – much of the time buried in a dark hole – only Odette’s identity was shrouded while she lived openly, attempting to be just like any other village child. Only when the war finally ends can Odette reclaim her true self: “Secrets stand in my way. / They stop me from knowing who I am. / I am a Jew. / I’m sure of it. / And I will always be one.”

Truly, the courage of children knows no bounds.

Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult

Published: 2013

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Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Poetry, European, Nonethnic-specific

The Word Collector by Sonja Wimmer, translated by Jon Brokenbrow

Admiring Ana A. de Eulate’s The Sky of Afghanistan earlier this fall led me to Sonja Wimmer‘s spectacular art. Allow me a moment of WOW. I admit that finding only Wimmer’s name on the cover of this title was the initial reason I opened these pages, and how gleeful was I to discover that she’s incredibly facile with storytelling, as well … The Word Collector is perfect in so many ways.

“Luna was an extraordinary little girl,” the tale begins. Luna collects words: “funny words, that tickle your palate when you say them … friendly words that embrace your soul.” She’s surrounded by magical, delicious, crazy words … but “[l]ittle by little, the beautiful, magnificent and fun words began to disappear.”

The bird, clouds and travelers tell Luna how people are forgetting the words, losing them to non-use, considering themselves “too busy.” Luna devises an immediate plan that takes her “over seas and continents, mountains and cities,” armed with a suitcase filled with all her words: “Wherever there was hate and violence, she sowed words of brotherhood, love and tolerance within people’s hearts. Wherever there were people who were sad and lonely, she wove threads of warm words, words of friendship and compassion.”

Luna’s suitcase empties quickly. Her hard work proves joyously rewarding as she sees the people “throw letters to each other like balls” and invent new words, and give and share them. Luna is happy: “[a]fter all, what was the point of collecting something if you couldn’t share them?”

Wimmer’s story jumps off every double-page spread, each presented with swirling energy and unique perspective. Luna’s expressive kitty makes for an excellent sidekick, magical creatures float across the page, the too-busy people move from pulling hair and dumping soup to floating off with umbrellas and twirling with blissful abandon. To such whimsical images, Wimmer adds ever-changing text set in countless fonts and multiple sizes (and just in case you can’t find every word in exact order, the final spread is a type-only version of the whole story).

Remember that stinging childhood rhyme: ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me’? Rethink that: here’s proof of the power of words to heal, fix, enjoy, and share with others.

Readers: Children

Published: 2012 (United States)

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Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Fiction, European, Nonethnic-specific

I Have the Right to Be a Child by Alain Serres, illustrated by Aurélia Fronty, translated by Helen Mixter

“I am a child / with eyes, hands, / a voice, a heart, and rights,” opens this vibrant, translated import that provides a crucial reminder that even the smallest beings in the world have basic needs that deserve and demand to be addressed and met.

Across colorful double-page spreads, the unnamed narrator shares what every child should expect as a member of the human race: a name, a family, a country, enough food and water and clean air, medical care, freedom from violence, to go to school instead of work, to be guarded against war, to play, create, and imagine. Of utmost importance is the ever-needed, timeless admonition: “I have the same rights / whether I am a girl / or a boy.”

Based on the Convention on the Rights of the Child (click here for the English version) as adopted by the United Nations General Assembly in 1989, author Alain Serres takes the labyrinthine 54 articles and translates the legal jargon into clear, simple language perfect for the youngest readers, so that they, too, can be well-versed in what their young lives should be like. Aurélia Fronty imbues her welcoming illustrations with whimsy and wonder, representing children – and other sweet creatures – from all over the world. The invitation to join in resonates on every page.

The bottom line is this: “I have the right … to have just enough of what I need, not more.” How could we deny any child at least that? And yet, here’s the ironic kicker: Every member of the United Nations has signed the Convention, except for three countries – Somalia, the new country of South Sudan, and … wait for it … the United States! In a footnote on the penultimate spread, the narrator adds, “If I live in one of the very few countries that haven’t agreed to the Convention, like the United States of America, then I have the right to demand that my country join! Should I not have the same rights as every other child in the world?”

Parents, be sure to read the closing endnote, because our duty is calling: “We need our rights to be respected / now – today – because it is / right now – today – / that we are children.” Amen to that!

Readers: Children

Published: 2009 (France), 2012 (United States)

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Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Nonfiction, .Translation, European

Stories 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 by Eugène Ionesco, illustrated and translated by Etienne Delessert

How strange to admit that Dave Eggers taught me Eugène Ionesco – Mr. Theatre of the Absurd himself – wrote kiddie stories in addition to his dozens of plays (Rhinoceros, The Chairs, The Bald Soprano, being some of his signature pieces). Eggers founded McSweeney’s which recently debuted McMullens, their new imprint just for children’s titles, which published Stories 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 last month. Being a product of Eggers/McSweeney’s/McMullens’ collective imaginations – and, of course, the source material being Ionescoean (is that a word?) – this is no ordinary kiddie book!

Let’s start with the delightfully ingenious cover: that’s not just a jacket flap to protect the book … it folds out to a spectacular poster (pages 74 and 75, gorgeously magnified) on one side, while the other side captures “Story 3″ around the four edges of the oversized square with the book’s actual front and back cover in the middle. Not quite getting the unique picture? Really, this you need to see – and appreciate, fold by fold – for yourself!

Inside, the four stories follow the winsome adventures of a “thirty-three months old” girl named Josette. In “Story 1,” while Mama rests, Papa tells Josette a story so silly that the maid seems to need to wear a ring bearing the name and image of philosopher/mathematician René Descartes to ward off Papa’s utter nonsense. In “Story 2,” while Mama is out, “Papa teaches Josette the real meaning of words” – the telephone is cheese, cheese is a music box, a music box is a rug … and so on. While Mama bathes, Papa takes Josette on a fabulous flying machine in “Story 3,” without ever leaving his cozy warm bed. In the final “Story 4,” Papa stays behind the safety of the closed bathroom door while he sends adventurous Josette on a search near and far, just until Mama returns.

Artist Etienne Delessert, who has written and illustrated over 80 books (!), matches Ionesco’s stories with irresistible art on every page. From fantastical creatures (a walking fish named Darwin, of course) to clever details (the grocer’s shop in “Story 1″ is named “E. Ionesco I,” while the building’s number “69-09″ seemingly refers to the tale’s original French publication), Delessert colorful efforts superbly enhance Ionesco’s bewitching stories that celebrate the unfettered imagination. Most importantly, in wink-wink homage to Ionesco’s drama, Delessert never lets the rhinoceros wander far from the page …

Readers: Children, Middle Grade

Published: 1969-1976, 2012 (United States)

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Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, ..Middle Grade Readers, .Fiction, .Short Stories, .Translation, European

The Sky of Afghanistan by Ana A. de Eulate, illustrated by Sonja Wimmer, translated by Jon Brokenbrow

“I look at the sky, I close my eyes, / and my imagination begins to soar …,” so begins this beautiful, but bittersweet picture book – bittersweet because for now, the little girl can only imagine, dream, wish for peace in her war-torn country of Afghanistan. For decades, her country has been decimated by violence, which means this little girl (and her entire generation and more) can only know peace in her sky-high dreams.

That said, buying this book is an immediately doable easy step towards peace because author Ana A. de Eulate and illustrator Sonja Wimmer are donating all proceeds to Fundacíon Cometa, a Spain-based organization that promotes educational projects, especially as a means “to empower women to be the vehicles that convey those egalitarian values of respect and human rights to their children.” Women and girls will be the ones to break the cycle of violence and war.

To move from dreams to making a new reality, never underestimate the power of a determined little girl. She dreams of a time when “the sound of war has truly gone forever.” Surely that must be a birthright for all children? Her unwavering convictions are testimony that she ”can make this dream come true, / a wonderful  dream in which we all hold hands, / and we are all given a new opportunity / to leave our footprints for all eternity.” How impossible not to be touched by the book’s final thought, the longing for “A place – please forgive me if my eyes fill with / tears – that leads us towards PEACE.”

But before you close the book, go back and linger over the pictures. Beyond de Eulate’s inspiring words, Wimmer’s illustrations – from the smallest details to swirling, sweeping scenes — surely add volumes: a caged dove flying to freedom; the children’s various smiles, from the uncertain to the bursting; the women’s heavy blue burqas drawn over grid paper as if to show them to be the cages they are, and the daring few who momentary lift their veils to witness the little girl being lifted up (and away) by her high-flying kite before she, too, is caged; the (vibrantly colorful) intricate toys as the little girl plays on top of (dingy monotone) garbage and rubble, the bright lily bursting forth larger than life from a shrinking tank’s gun, the young girls at their desks with books and pencils in hand, various pieces of Afghan maps as if waiting to be reassembled back together, the cancelled Afghan stamps as reminders of the need for communication near and far.

Go ahead, enter this dreamy world … then help make it reality.

Readers: Children

Published: 2012 (United States)

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Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein

Having somehow stumbled randomly on Elizabeth Wein‘s very recent “meta-review” on reviewing (complete with crossed-out phrases about “tasteless morons“), I’ll try to not break her seven “observations” here. Just allow me a moment to digress (and comment): 1. I wasn’t aware of any Verity hype, although surely such a smart, pulse-racing, breath-wringing adventure deserves to be hyped to the heavens; 2. Of course, I finished – then wished for more; 3. I didn’t experience a single microsecond of boredom; 4. I’d be thrilled to pieces to have Wein turn up on this blog (always appreciate author visits), and promise to be on my best behavior if our paths ever cross in livetime; 5. I don’t need to fact-check a single phrase because I completely believed every repetition of “I have told the truth”; 6. I won’t apologize for nothing!; and 7. Since I don’t read reviews, the biggest shocker I can attest to appears on p. 285 (don’t you dare peek ahead!) which made me sputter and wince, then left me bereft.

In Wein’s own words: “There you go, my [own] meta-review.”

Verity is a rarity indeed. Two young women, so different in background (one the English grandchild of Jewish immigrants who’s gifted with machines; the other a royally descended, titled Lady who grew up in a Scottish castle with a posh Swiss education and a term at Oxford), are brought together by war … and become the very best of friends. One is a pilot, the other her passenger. During an unauthorized flight into France, one becomes the prisoner of the Gestapo, the other works desperately to find her. One writes her story, Scheherazade-style, on any paper she’s allowed – from fancy hotel stationery to a Jewish doctor’s prescription sheets to discarded recipe cards to sheet music in which “the flute parts are all blank” – scribbling to save her life. The other hopes to attempt an impossible rescue. Each friend shares half the story; together, they undoubtedly “are a sensational team.”

A word of warning: if, like me, you choose to stick this heartbeat-raising book in your ears, I urgently recommend you also have the on-the-page version readily available. As convincing as the readers Morven Christie and Lucy Gaskell are, the book contains essential textual details that just cannot be translated onto a recording: turn to page 62 to see an example.

While this might be a bit of a spoiler (you’ve been warned!), I must commend Wein’s cleverly ironic choice of certain names: the angel with a Yank accent, the officer whose name echoes a major Berlin thoroughfare on which sits the city’s iconic Brandenberger Gate haunted by eerie photos of Nazi soldiers during the 1933 announcement of Hitler as the new Chancellor, the faraway daughter who shares the name of a tragic heroine whose life was operatically staged by the anti-Semitic, Hitler-endorsed Richard Wagner.

A book with so many layers (did I mention meta?) needs to be read first for the spectacular story that it is, then combed through at least again for the literary accomplishments it achieves. Verity is veritably WOW.

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2012

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Filed under ...Absolute Favorites, ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, British, European

The Bookseller of Kabul by Åsne Seierstad, translated by Ingrid Christophersen

Okay, here we go again (see Kabul Beauty School below). We have a (fascinating, allegedly true) story, and then the (disturbing) story about the (now accuracy-challenged) story.

Just after the fall of the Taliban in 2001, an award-winning Norwegian journalist emerges from six weeks of following Northern Alliance commandos all over Afghanistan and moves into (invited!) the home of a Kabul bookseller, Sultan Khan (not his name), for three months in order to write a book about him and his extended family. “A bookseller’s family is unusual in a country where three-quarters of the population can neither read nor write,” she explains. That Khan has survived for decades as a bookseller is near miraculous: “‘First the Communists burned my books, then the Mujahedeen looted and pillaged, finally the Taliban burned them all over again,’” he tells Seierstad. Still, he managed to keep his family “kind of middle class, if you can use that expression in Afghanistan,” with enough money and food to never go hungry. Some were educated and could read and write in multiple languages. [Seierstad herself is fluent in five languages.]

Seierstad chose Khan for his atypical devotion to literature, learning, culture, and history, rare in a society oppressed by fundamentalist Islam and mired in post-war destruction, poverty, and chaos. But by book’s end, Khan sadly proves himself to be “‘very typical,’” Seierstad admits in an accompanying 2003 interview in the book’s reading guide. “‘He’s an Afghan patriarch like everybody else’”: he bullies and rules his family, especially the women; at 50-plus, he takes an illiterate teenaged distant relative as his second wife when he decides his first wife (a qualified Persian language teacher) is too old after bearing him three sons and a daughter; he allows his eldest son Mansur to openly berate and demean any and all of their female relatives; he refuses to support his youngest sister’s desire to continue her education or pursue a teaching career, treating her no better than he would a servant. Seierstad says she did her best to keep her opinions out of her reportage: “‘If I wanted to say, ‘That’s not how we do it in Norway,’ that this is not fair, I would suddenly not get the true story.’”

So the story about that true story, of course, begins with its international bestseller status: first comes fame, then comes controversy. Sultan Khan’s real name is Shah Muhammad Rais. So well known is he in Kabul that merely disguising his name didn’t protect his anonymity. He and his family sued Seierstad for defamation soon after the book’s global success; in July 2010, a Norway court ordered Seierstad to pay Rais’ young wife a substantial sum in damages, but that decision was overturned over a year later. In the midst of legal battles, both wives, fearing for their safety, fled Afghanistan; one lives in Canada, the other in Norway. In 2007, Rais published his own version of his story, Once Upon a Time There Was a Bookseller in Kabul (available on Amazon!).

Once again, here is yet another case of ‘she said, he said’ … once more, the oft-repeated literary question looms: in the (countless) cases of an outsider looking into a country, culture, people not his or her own, is neutrality ever possible?

Readers: Young Adult, Adult

Published: 2003 (United States)

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Filed under ..Adult Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Audio, .Memoir, .Nonfiction, .Translation, Afghan, European