Latest news with #NationalBookAward
Vogue
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Vogue
Susan Choi on the Sprawling Stories Behind Her New Novel, Flashlight
Susan Choi is known for writing novels that mine enormous richness from highly specific settings, whether a high school-level theater program in 2019's Trust Exercise, a sexually charged campus environment in 2013's My Education, or a life on the run from the FBI in 2003's American Woman. But her latest book, Flashlight—out now from Macmillan Publishers—is perhaps her most ambitious effort yet. In Flashlight, a Korean national named Serk (formerly Seok) leaves the Japan of his youth to build a new life in the United States. What follows is a chronicle of four generations' worth of his family life—the precision and emotional resonance of Choi's sentences proving endlessly dazzling. This week, Vogue spoke to Choi about how winning the National Book Award in 2019 affected (or didn't affect, as the case may be) the process of writing Flashlight, digging into historical research about Korean-Japanese relations, and her preoccupation with abduction stories. The conversation has been edited and condensed. Vogue: What did the craft process of writing this book look like for you? Susan Choi: Oh, gosh, the process was so…I don't want to say chaotic, because I think that that gives an impression of a lot of energy and movement and this was much more slow, meandering, confused, you know, like a blindfolded person trying to navigate a very complicated obstacle course. I mean, I really struggled with this book. I feel like it evolved in a lot of disconnected bursts of writing that then required me to go back and go in circles. It was a composition process kind of like no other. Honestly, it was more like the first book I ever wrote than my sixth book. I just felt like I'd never written a book before. How did it feel to embark on a new project after winning the 2019 National Book Award in Fiction for Trust Exercise? I have to say, it wasn't really on my mind, and I'm so grateful for that. I definitely am someone who I would have thought would be really prone to finding that really stressful, but it was very hard to even connect those two facts in my mind. It feels so strange to say this, but it was partly thanks to COVID; like, COVID was such a huge rupture in our shared reality and in my individual reality, and this book really kind of grew out of COVID. I published the short story that now forms the very opening pages of the book during COVID—that was something that I had been working on during quarantine in 2020—and then started growing the rest of the book out of that. I just wasn't really thinking much about 2019, or the National Book Award, or the fact that this book, if it even ever came to exist, would follow the previous book. There was a big gap that separated those two realities, and I think it wasn't until this book was really close to being finished that I was like, Oh, this is the follow-up to that, and in the experience of any outsider to my life, this will be the next thing that comes after that other thing. I'm really glad I didn't think about that much before, because it feels very strange. I don't want to preoccupy myself about: Is this a good follow-up? Is it a weird follow-up? Is it a bad follow-up? It just is, and I can't change it now.
Metropolis Japan
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Metropolis Japan
Book Review: The Summer House by Masashi Matsuie
It's not just a novel about architecture—it's a novel constructed like architecture: every beam of narrative serves a purpose, every window of emotion is carefully placed. In The Summer House , Masashi Matsuie's prize-winning debut novel (originally published in Japan in 2012 and now translated into English by National Book Award–winner Margaret Mitsutani), that question unfolds slowly, with the same measured elegance as the Murai Office's architectural plans. Set in a sweltering summer of the late 20th century, the story follows recent university graduate Toru Sakanishi. He works at an architecture firm known for its blend of traditional Japanese aesthetics and Western modernist influences. When the team temporarily relocates to a mountain retreat beneath an active volcano, it's ostensibly to escape the heat. However, the real furnace lies in the creative and romantic tensions that begin to simmer. There's a high-stakes competition to design a national library, and Sakanishi clumsily falls into something like love with two women at the retreat. In lesser hands, this might veer toward melodrama. But Matsuie, a longtime editor of literary greats like Haruki Murakami and Banana Yoshimoto, knows restraint like a well-crafted floor plan. The emotional architecture is subtle, precise, and deeply human. Read more of Metropolis' Japanese literature recommendations here. The book has an obsession with structure—physical and metaphorical. The novel is filled with thoughtful ruminations on libraries, natural light, the tension between form and function. This is a book that breathes. Mitsutani's translation captures the quiet rhythms of Matsuie's prose—never showy, never missing, always deliberate. It's a style that mirrors the landscape it describes: a Japan perched between nostalgia and modernity, lush forests giving way to concrete, traditions quietly rearranged by economic ambition. For readers who love contemplative fiction, The Summer House is a welcome escape. It doesn't roar. It hums, like cicadas in summer, or the soft creak of wood in an old house at night. It's a story about how we shape the spaces we live in, and how they quietly shape us back. Read The Summer House by Masashi Matsuie, Translated by Margaret Mitsutani, here. On sale from June 17, 2025.
Korea Herald
20-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Korea Herald
'Silence is dangerous. We must keep talking,' says bilingual novelist Yoko Tawada
Acclaimed Japanese writer on AI translation, language, power of conversation Yoko Tawada, a celebrated novelist who writes in both Japanese and German, is skeptical about the use of artificial intelligence in literary translation. 'I've heard predictions that AI translations will decline in quality year by year,' Tawada said at a press conference in Seoul on Monday. 'Since these systems learn from the sentences produced by a wide range of anonymous translators, I believe the proportion of poorly constructed sentences will inevitably increase. In the long term, I don't think it will succeed.' The 65-year-old Japanese author is in Seoul to attend events hosted by the Daesan Foundation. Her works have been introduced in over 30 countries but she said Korea has published the highest number of her works. 'I'm curious what would happen if an AI were trained solely on translations produced by a single exceptional translator. It's something I'd like to experiment with. But I'm not comfortable with an AI that's trained on sentences by an unspecified crowd translating my work," Tawada added. It is not easy to gain recognition in even one language, but Tawada is widely acclaimed in both Germany and Japan for her literary achievements in both, having won numerous literary awards. The English edition of "The Last Children of Tokyo" won the National Book Award for Translated Literature in the US in 2018. While literary scholars might categorize writers who publish in two languages as 'bilingual authors,' Tawada describes her literary practice as 'exophony' -- a term that denotes writing outside one's native language. Tawada's Hiruko Trilogy embodies this linguistic philosophy. The trilogy follows Hiruko, a woman studying abroad whose home country has vanished. She embarks on a journey to find others who speak her language and, along the way, begins to invent a language of her own. 'It's natural to feel fear or anxiety when stepping outside the bounds of one's native language,' Tawada said. 'But in the end, I wanted to highlight that doing so can actually expand the possibilities of one's life -- and increase the chances of meeting new friends.' She continued, 'Hiruko is deeply lonely at first, having no one left to speak her native language with. But on her journey, she meets a variety of people, and comes to realize that friendship can blossom even if their languages only partially overlap, or are mixed in unconventional ways.' Another hallmark of Tawada's work is its persistent use of humor and loquacious characters -- even in bleak, apocalyptic settings. 'In Japan, I've heard that students started avoiding political discussions 10 or 20 years ago because they feared creating an awkward atmosphere,' she noted. 'In Germany, by contrast, people from diverse backgrounds express different opinions freely and engage in lively debates.' 'Silence, I believe, is very dangerous,' she added. 'If we don't talk and chat about all sorts of topics, how can we ever gather and understand everyone's opinions?' Tawada will participate in a reading and conversation event on Wednesday and Thursday. On Thursday, she is scheduled for a closed-door dialogue with poet Kim Hye-soon. The conversation will be published in the summer issue of Daesan Culture, a quarterly literary webzine.
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
'Hamilton' author Chernow's new book takes on icon of American letters, Mark Twain
NEW YORK -- Historian Ron Chernow's latest work may surprise readers who know him best for the book which inspired the musical 'Hamilton' and for his biographies of George Washington and Ulysses Grant. The 1,200-page 'Mark Twain' will be published next week. It's Chernow's first release since his Grant biography came out in 2017, and the first time he has taken on a literary writer after a career defined by celebrated books about business leaders (John D. Rockefeller, the Morgan dynasty), presidents (Grant and Washington) and, most of all, Alexander Hamilton. His many honors include the Pulitzer Prize for 'Washington: A Life,' the National Book Award for 'The House of Morgan' and the National Book Critics Circle prize for 'Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr.' But a book on Twain had been in his thoughts for decades, dating back to when he saw Hal Holbrook play him on stage in Philadelphia in the mid-1970s. 'And there he was, with the white suit and cigar and mustache and he was tossing out one hilarious line after another,' the 76-year-old Chernow says, remembering such Twain quips as 'There's no distinctly Native American criminal class, except Congress.' Chernow became fascinated by Twain as a prototype of the modern celebrity and found himself drawn less to 'Mark Twain the novelist than the pundit, the personality and the platform artist.' Chernow admittedly is more comfortable with the researchable world of facts than with the more intangible qualities of the imagination. But he found much to identify with Twain, relating to him as a fellow widower (Twain outlived his wife, Olivia, by six years; Chernow's wife, Valerie Stearn, died in 2006), as a public speaker and as an author fortunate enough to write full time. Chernow also looks closely into subjects familiar to him — politics and finance, notably the various failed business ventures that left Twain short of money despite his author royalties and the inherited wealth of his wife. Toward the end of the book, the historian addresses the friendships an elderly Twain cultivated with teen and preteen girls, whom Twain called his 'angelfish.' 'At the time Twain's behavior was regarded as the charming eccentricity of a beloved humorist with a soft spot for children. We look at that same behavior today and find it odd and disturbing. It's important to get both perspectives,' Chernow says. 'Twain's behavior was chaste and none of the angelfish or their parents ever accused him of improper or predatory behavior. At the same time, there was such an obsessive quality about Twain's attention to these teenage girls — he devoted more time to them than to his own daughters.' During a recent interview at his Upper West Side Manhattan apartment, where his glass of Diet Coke stood on a coaster illustrated with a sketch of Twain receiving an honorary college degree, Chernow also reflected on Twain's family, his politics and the sadness in his soul. Chernow's comments have been condensed for clarity and brevity. 'I really don't know what he would say about Donald Trump. I could, yes, but I don't want to guess. But we do know what he said about political figures of his own day. And he hated Teddy Roosevelt. He saw that Teddy Roosevelt had a very large ego, very self-absorbed and a Mr. Bombastic personality. But he (Twain) has a wonderful quote where he says that Teddy Roosevelt is the Tom Sawyer of the political world of the early 20th century. He said that he was always hunting for attention. And then he has this great line. He said that in his (Roosevelt's) frenzied imagination, the great republic is one vast Barnum's circus, and he is the clown, and the whole world is his audience.' To actually read about the children of famous personalities is almost invariably sad, as it often is with Mark Twain. The one who suffered from this most acutely, I think was the middle daughter, Clara, who was kind of insanely competitive with her father and felt overshadowed by him, wanted to kind of trade on his reputation, but then didn't want him to get the attention. She said that she would be in a room with her father, and she felt she was only Mark Twain's daughter, that she was reduced to the level of a footstool. And she also had a very interesting line, one that has a very contemporary ring: He would come into the room and he would flood the room with talk.' 'There's that time when he goes to the Sandwich Islands and he meets the American diplomat Anson Burlingame, who advises him to 'cultivate your betters,' which Twain really takes to heart. I think that with Twain, if someone asks me, you know, did he marry Olivia for her money? I would say definitely not. It was a true love match. And as Twain said late in life, there was not a single day of his marriage that she didn't say, 'I worship you,' 'I idolize you.' This was just kind of pouring out of her and her letters. On the other hand, the more you know about Mark Twain, the more you know that he could never have married a poor woman. 'And the irony of Twain's life is that he spends his entire life attacking the plutocrats on the one hand, and on the other, he's doing everything in his power to become one. This man embodies in his person every tendency of the time.' 'There's a tremendous amount of self-loathing in him. I have a quote later in the book — he says that (poet Lord) Byron detested life because he detested himself. Twain said, 'I'm the same way.' You know, that's a really harsh, harsh thing to say. But I think that he saw all these impulses within himself that he was really powerless to stop. And then he realized he hurt other people. I think that Mark Twain did fit the stereotype of the funny man who's sad and depressed under the surface and is kind of releasing that through the humor.'
Yahoo
09-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
'Hamilton' author Ron Chernow's new book takes on an icon of American letters, Mark Twain
NEW YORK (AP) — Historian Ron Chernow's latest work may surprise readers who know him best for the book which inspired the musical 'Hamilton' and for his biographies of George Washington and Ulysses Grant. The 1,200-page 'Mark Twain' will be published next week. It's Chernow's first release since his Grant biography came out in 2017, and the first time he has taken on a literary writer after a career defined by celebrated books about business leaders (John D. Rockefeller, the Morgan dynasty), presidents (Grant and Washington) and, most of all, Alexander Hamilton. His many honors include the Pulitzer Prize for 'Washington: A Life,' the National Book Award for 'The House of Morgan' and the National Book Critics Circle prize for 'Titan: The Life of John D. Rockefeller, Sr.' But a book on Twain had been in his thoughts for decades, dating back to when he saw Hal Holbrook play him on stage in Philadelphia in the mid-1970s. 'And there he was, with the white suit and cigar and mustache and he was tossing out one hilarious line after another,' the 76-year-old Chernow says, remembering such Twain quips as 'There's no distinctly Native American criminal class, except Congress.' Chernow became fascinated by Twain as a prototype of the modern celebrity and found himself drawn less to 'Mark Twain the novelist than the pundit, the personality and the platform artist.' Chernow admittedly is more comfortable with the researchable world of facts than with the more intangible qualities of the imagination. But he found much to identify with Twain, relating to him as a fellow widower (Twain outlived his wife, Olivia, by six years; Chernow's wife, Valerie Stearn, died in 2006), as a public speaker and as an author fortunate enough to write full time. Chernow also looks closely into subjects familiar to him — politics and finance, notably the various failed business ventures that left Twain short of money despite his author royalties and the inherited wealth of his wife. Toward the end of the book, the historian addresses the friendships an elderly Twain cultivated with teen and preteen girls, whom Twain called his 'angelfish.' 'At the time Twain's behavior was regarded as the charming eccentricity of a beloved humorist with a soft spot for children. We look at that same behavior today and find it odd and disturbing. It's important to get both perspectives,' Chernow says. 'Twain's behavior was chaste and none of the angelfish or their parents ever accused him of improper or predatory behavior. At the same time, there was such an obsessive quality about Twain's attention to these teenage girls — he devoted more time to them than to his own daughters.' During a recent interview at his Upper West Side Manhattan apartment, where his glass of Diet Coke stood on a coaster illustrated with a sketch of Twain receiving an honorary college degree, Chernow also reflected on Twain's family, his politics and the sadness in his soul. Chernow's comments have been condensed for clarity and brevity. Political egos 'I really don't know what he would say about Donald Trump. I could, yes, but I don't want to guess. But we do know what he said about political figures of his own day. And he hated Teddy Roosevelt. He saw that Teddy Roosevelt had a very large ego, very self-absorbed and a Mr. Bombastic personality. But he (Twain) has a wonderful quote where he says that Teddy Roosevelt is the Tom Sawyer of the political world of the early 20th century. He said that he was always hunting for attention. And then he has this great line. He said that in his (Roosevelt's) frenzied imagination, the great republic is one vast Barnum's circus, and he is the clown, and the whole world is his audience.' The great man's children To actually read about the children of famous personalities is almost invariably sad, as it often is with Mark Twain. The one who suffered from this most acutely, I think was the middle daughter, Clara, who was kind of insanely competitive with her father and felt overshadowed by him, wanted to kind of trade on his reputation, but then didn't want him to get the attention. She said that she would be in a room with her father, and she felt she was only Mark Twain's daughter, that she was reduced to the level of a footstool. And she also had a very interesting line, one that has a very contemporary ring: He would come into the room and he would flood the room with talk.' Marrying up 'There's that time when he goes to the Sandwich Islands and he meets the American diplomat Anson Burlingame, who advises him to 'cultivate your betters,' which Twain really takes to heart. I think that with Twain, if someone asks me, you know, did he marry Olivia for her money? I would say definitely not. It was a true love match. And as Twain said late in life, there was not a single day of his marriage that she didn't say, 'I worship you,' 'I idolize you.' This was just kind of pouring out of her and her letters. On the other hand, the more you know about Mark Twain, the more you know that he could never have married a poor woman. 'And the irony of Twain's life is that he spends his entire life attacking the plutocrats on the one hand, and on the other, he's doing everything in his power to become one. This man embodies in his person every tendency of the time.' Laughing through the tears 'There's a tremendous amount of self-loathing in him. I have a quote later in the book — he says that (poet Lord) Byron detested life because he detested himself. Twain said, 'I'm the same way.' You know, that's a really harsh, harsh thing to say. But I think that he saw all these impulses within himself that he was really powerless to stop. And then he realized he hurt other people. I think that Mark Twain did fit the stereotype of the funny man who's sad and depressed under the surface and is kind of releasing that through the humor.'
