*I'm trying to get in the habit of citing the translator too. I'm reading a lot more translated books in the last few years and want to start keeping track of whose translations I like.
It's a whole thing that
lots of publishers resist putting translators' names on the cover, so good for you!
I'm reading Dorothy Parker's
Constant Reader and E. B. White's
New York Sketches, which are both collections of pieces from
The New Yorker. They're enjoyable, but slight. The Parker is a collection of her book reviews; they're funny now and were doubtless funnier then when the allusions were more current. The book isn't something to read straight through there. The White is entertaining but a bit thin: There are a lot of blank pages between pieces. And while I love the design and print quality of both these titles from McNally Editions, I wish their proofreaders were a little better, since I've encountered a few obvious typos.
Also reading Benjamin Swett's
The Photo Not Taken with few preconceptions: He'd done a signing at my local store, it was published by NYRB, I like essay collections. I'm enjoying it; the author's reflections on his father are particularly moving, as is the first essay, which is structured around an absence not revealed to the reader until its final pages. I wonder if this one might actually be improved in certain digital formats, as then we could see some of the reproduced photos in color.
Chester Himes's
A Case of Rape isn't one of his major books, but it's a compact tragedy. The introduction is a little tendentious and long in the tooth, but the book proper is still fresh. Reminds me I need to get back to Himes's
Harlem Detectives series.
Lake of Darkness by Adam Roberts is as full of ideas as any of his novels, but the plotting isn't as adept as in other books he's written. He often hops between characters, styles, and perspectives in a single book, but I don't love it as much as
Jack Glass or
The Thing Itself. All those caveats aside, it's still really good.
I started reading David Stacton's
Remember Me, an aphoristic novel about "Mad King" Ludwig of Bavaria. It was really good but demanding and I set it aside after forty pages when life got busy. Going to start again though, as I really admire Stacton.
In other news, I now work for a university with a world-class library, and I may be going slightly power-mad with semester loan privileges.