Maya, it sounds like we have similar taste! I love writing that is strange and funny, too, and that challenges me in some way. I get a little thrill when I hit a spot of friction in a book.
If you’re on the hunt for under-celebrated classics, one author that immediately springs to mind is Elaine Kraf, who is finally getting her work reprinted. Kraf’s feminist novels are witty and off-putting, and she’s got an amazing sense of tone and voice. I’d start with the sad, disturbing Find Him!, a paranoid classic about a woman who has lost herself and awakens in the thrall of a man she knows little about beyond her obsession, and The Princess of 72nd Street, which is a shimmering novel about a young painter grappling with inspiration, mental crises, and the bruising condescension of the men around her.
But perhaps look beyond the Anglosphere for classics? I’ve been thinking about Kōbō Abe lately in anticipation of a forthcoming translation of his 1964 novel The Traitor (translated by Mark Gibeau). If you haven’t dipped into Abe's work yet, he’s wonderful. Most of his writing is worth your time for their strange premises and gripping sentences, but I think his best are the creepy and stylish The Woman in the Dunes, the surreal horror/detective story The Ruined Map, and the bizarre and paranoid head trip (literally) of The Box Man (all translated by E. Dale Saunders). Abe’s books seem to pull from so many different inspirations and take so many odd forms, but he’s a rewarding author to read broadly. You'll start to trace his obsessions and observations about modern life across his work.
Most of my other recommendations for beautiful and odd fiction in translation tend to be on the slimmer side—Tell Them of Battles, Kings, and Elephants by Mathias Énard (tr. Charlotte Mandell), or The Taiga Syndrome by Cristina Rivera Garza (tr. Suzanne Jill Levine and Aviva Kana), or The Last Wolf & Herman by László Krasznahorkai (tr. John Batki and George Szirtes)—but if you’re looking for a longer project to keep you company through the winter, I’d recommend Agustín Fernández Mallo’s excellent Nocilla Trilogy (tr. Thomas Bunstead). These books form a dense anthology blending fiction and nonfiction. They can feel disjointed and experimental in places, but if you stick with it, I think you'll find the cascading overlaps and echoes in the books rewarding. Plus Mallo, as translated by Thomas Bunstead, is beautiful in the details—this trilogy is full of arresting sentences and images.
Happy reading, and let me know if any of these spark for you!
–James Folta, Staff Writer
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