This week’s guest author, Maria Espinosa, is the author of two poetry chapbooks, a translation of George Sand’s novel, Lélia, and four novels, most recently Dying Unfinished, which Kirkus called “A fierce novel that explores the topography of passion and grace.” Enjoy her story of her path to publication through translating the work of another author she admired. – Meg
It began with trips to the UC Berkeley library in the late Seventies, where I was outraged at not finding George Sand’s most autobiographical novel, a classic, in English. At the time I was working for a brash former musician who owned a little orange juice stand. My job was to hook up the portable stand to my car, drive it a few blocks to Bancroft Avenue, and squeeze oranges for a few hours a day.
Afterwards he came over one afternoon for a drink and to listen to some jazz. I told him how strange it was that I could not find the novel, a classic, in English. Translate it yourself, he said. Why not? Why not indeed? I had published poetry in small journals, but I had not yet published any fiction, and I had not even thought of translating. Who would publish it? I wondered. Just do it, he said.
Translating was a slow process, but pleasurable, requiring far less courage than writing fiction. I decided to keep the tone as close as possible to the original. A kindly professor at Berkeley, the late Max Knight, born in Germany, a poet and translator in his own right, encouraged me. He gave the translation to a noted George Sand scholar. Although the University Press rejected it after she gave a mixed review, I pressed on. Another friend connected with the University helped me prepare a packet to submit the work tomore presses. I sent about 36 packets. More rejections. But finally a glimmer of hope. Indiana University Press was interested.
Still another friend informed me about the existence of the Modern Language Association and suggested I attend their conference in Manhattan over the Christmas holidays and submit a paper.
Serendipity—things were working in my favor. An old college friend, (by profession a philanthropist!) lent me his “guest” apartment overlooking Central Park. It was wonderfully luxurious and quiet. There I practiced delivering the paper—I had never written an academic paper before, let alone read one aloud—and calmed my nerves.
One of the editors at Indiana University Press, was going to be at the MLA conference. She asked to meet me in her hotel room. I brought a bottle of wine along with a bottle opener, surmising that she probably wouldn’t have one in her room. Over wine we talked.
She would let me know.
Weeks passed.
And finally …finally …came the acceptance letter.
The translation was published in 1978 and received a glowing review from V.S. Pritchett in the NY Review of Books. After years of lying dormant, it has come back into print as an e-book, and now, after a lapse of decades, I’m again receiving royalties.
In looking back, if I hadn’t been living in Berkeley or a similar university environment, and if I hadn’t had the help of a number of friends, I would never have succeeded. Finally, a bottle of red wine along with a bottle opener, may have been deciding factors! – Maria
