Deep Vellum.

I don’t usually post press releases, but this one from “Deep Vellum & Dalkey Archive” demonstrates such daring and ambition (in a realm that concerns me intimately) that I have to share it:

With the groundbreaking success of Mircea Cartarescu’s SOLENOID—a “towering work” (Dustin Illingworth, New York Times)—Miquel de Palol’s THE GARDEN OF SEVEN TWILIGHTS—“equal parts unwieldy and extraordinary” (Ben Hooyman, Los Angeles Review of Books)—and Luis Goytisolo’s ANTAGONY— “brilliant…daring” (Colm Tóibín, New York Review of Books)—Deep Vellum, together with the rejuvenated Dalkey Archive Press that merged with Deep Vellum in 2021, has demonstrated its affection for daring work of astonishing literary ambition. In the span of mere months, we published two groundbreaking novels written by living legends and annual Nobel contenders. But those books merely set the stage for what’s in store for 2025 and 2026 (and beyond!): the publication of translated works more ambitious than any that have been published by more traditional houses in decades past.

Starting in 2024, Max Lawton will share his vision and talent with Deep Vellum to translate, edit, and shepherd into English some of the world’s most exciting fiction and to cement the press’ reputation as the champion of maximalist literature in the Anglosphere––of the badass avant-garde masterpieces that would otherwise not be translated or published.

These masterpieces have come to Deep Vellum and to Lawton thanks to Andrei, a friend of the press and the founding steward of The Untranslated blog, the seminal reference for great books not yet available to English-speaking audiences. Andrei, a Russian-speaking book blogger from Eastern Europe, launched The Untranslated in 2013. He has described the idea for the blog as having come from reading Gravity’s Rainbow as an undergrad and wondering if there were similar works in other languages. As a PhD student of comparative literature, he became fascinated by the short reviews of untranslated books in the magazine World Literature Today––by the idea that you could tell the world about a book before it was translated. Andrei therefore dedicated his blog to reviewing significant literary works unavailable in English translation. Last year, he celebrated the 10th anniversary of The Untranslated, the ultimate Anglophone source for reviews of innovative literary works written in or translated into the eight languages other than English that Andrei can read. Deep Vellum owes a debt of gratitude to Andrei for discovering and championing all of these books; he was also instrumental in encouraging Lawton to undertake their translations.

This new era begins with a book like no other: SCHATTENFROH by Michael Lentz, translated by Lawton, edited by Matthias Friedrich, a renowned translator of Nordic and Catalan literature into German, and scheduled for publication in 2025. Peerlessly strange and rich, dense with references and homage, equal parts Hieronymous Bosch and Alejandro Jodorowsky, Lentz’s novel begins with a writer named Nobody composing the book we’re reading in his mind, which is also a panopticon ruled by his father. The writer leads the reader through realms of history and art, of horror and pain, and of personal reckoning with his father, the titular Schattenfroh. What if a schizophrenic municipal employee in provincial Germany attempted to write his own Bible? You’d get something like SCHATTENFROH. As Andrei puts it: SCHATTENFROH is a “baroque and surrealist explosion of a novel [that] belongs to the pantheon of the best works of world literature published in the past two decades.”

We have discussed both The Untranslated (e.g., 2017, 2018) and Max Lawton (e.g., 2022) a number of times; Deep Vellum has been mentioned in connection with their publishing Elina Alter’s translation of Alla Gorbunova. You can read about more projects at the link; it astonishes me (though perhaps it shouldn’t) that in this mercantile, conglomerated world there are still publishers who dare to take on books like these, and I wish them a long and profitable existence.

Comments

  1. There is a sequel to this press release 🙂

    https://www.deepvellum.org/news/horcynus-orca

  2. That’s great! You must be very pleased at having had this kind of influence.

  3. Andrei actually inspired my current work on Portuguese, in the sense that I was thinking about starting another language and Andrei’s example moved me from “someday” to “what am I waiting for.” In a couple of years I will likely move on to Spanish. And after that, who knows, and why stop there.

    This is aside from the excitement about reading some of these big crazy novels in English. I like big crazy novels.

  4. Anderson Tepper wrote for the NY Times (archived) about Deep Vellum and the associated bookstore, Wild Detectives, and in the process answered my puzzlement as to the name: the publisher’s headquarters are in “the storied and diverse Deep Ellum neighborhood” of Dallas. “Ellum,” in turn, is a deformation of the name of the area’s principal thoroughfare, Elm Street. (Thanks, Lizok!)

  5. Max’s translation of Schattenfroh has appeared and gotten good reviews. Anahid Nersessian wrote about it for NYRB (archived); here are the last two paragraphs, the first praising Lawton’s work and the second sounding the alarm for “publishers who dare to take on books like these” (to quote myself):

    It’s easy to praise Lentz’s ambition while sidelining his artistry. Schattenfroh is extremely long and prodigiously learned, with scenes—and even sentences—that veer from one century to another, and with a taste for literary and art historical in-jokes that might try the patience of even the most erudite reader. All the more impressive, then, is Max Lawton’s translation, which renders Lentz’s flinty though extravagant German into English sentences that are clear, nimble, and frankly full of beans, capturing the propulsive energy of the original text without sacrificing its difficulty. Lawton has made good choices, such as leaving a series of anagrams made from the word “Schattenfroh” untranslated. These anagrams, which first appear in pieces as “inscriptions upon Father’s face” and look “as if they were program-opening passwords,” serve a climactic purpose as the novel draws to a close, suggesting that Schattenfroh’s precious High German has managed to persist within the book’s new English version. Though German words like Nachtfrost (nightfrost) and Schafott (scaffold) are presented as passwords, they also act as viruses, infiltrating the translation and suggesting that German, like the printed book or the ghost of one’s father, might still have some life left in it.

    On that note: in May of this year the Trump administration ordered the National Endowment for the Arts to terminate or rescind hundreds of grants to cultural institutions, including over $1.2 million of funding to publishers like Deep Vellum, the Texas-based house that put out Schattenfroh in English and cultivates a strong list of modern literature in translation. According to a statement on the Deep Vellum website, the $20,000 the publishers had initially been awarded was earmarked, among other things, for paying translators. The blow could have been, and may still be, fatal to a small house like this one, or to any of the others (Nightboat, Milkweed, Red Hen, the list goes on) that rely on government money to stay afloat. For now, though, there’s been a partial reprieve. Johns Hopkins University has volunteered to fund the publication, by Deep Vellum, of one work in translation annually. Schattenfroh is the first. The requiem—for big books, for difficult books, for books in other languages, for books, full stop—may have begun, but the curtain has yet to fall.

  6. David Marjanović says

    Schattenfroh

    Looks like a portmanteau of Schatten “shade, shadow” and schadenfroh as in Schadenfreude.

    Schafott (scaffold)

    Only known to me in the “small guillotine” sense.

  7. Lars Mathiesen (he/him/his) says

    Skafot in Danish is just the platform. ODS says it’s from Italian catafalco through French echafaud. (I suspect some phological nativization in German Schafott).

  8. According to Pfeifer, Schafott is a 17th century Dutch loan, ultimately from Old French chafaut, itself probably from Vulgar Latin *catafalicus.

  9. The OED on “scaffold”:

    < Norman French forms corresponding to Central Old French schaffaut, eschaffaut, eschafal, eschaiphal, earlier escadafaut = Provençal escadafalc, formed with prefix es- (< Latin ex- out) on the Common Romanic word represented by Old French chafau(l)t (modern French chafaud), earlier caafau-s, cadefaut, Provençal cadafalc, Old Catalan cadafal, Spanish †cadafalso, now cadahalso, cadalso, Portuguese cadafalso, Italian catafalco (whence French catafalque catafalque n.) < popular Latin *catafalcum, of uncertain formation: according to some scholars, < Greek prefix κατα- (see under catafalque n.) + ‑falicum, < fala, phala wooden tower or gallery.

    Notes
    For other related forms see catafalque n., and compare medieval Latin scadafale (12th cent.), scadafaltum (13th cent.), scafaldus, scalfaudus, etc. (15th cent.). The Romanic word has been adopted by continental Germanic languages: (Middle) Dutch schavot, German schavot(t, Danish skafot. With the δ-forms in English compare scaffoldage n.

    At least that helps with the s-. And here’s “catafalque”:

    < modern French catafalque, < Italian catafalco (which also occurs in English); in Provençal cadafalcs, cadafaus, Old Catalan cadafal, Spanish cadafalso, cadahalso, cadalso, Old Northern French caafaus (in rég. ‑faut), Old French chaafaus (‑faut), chafault, chafauld, whence Old French escafaut, eschafaut, modern French échafaud, English scaffold n.; in medieval Latin variously found as catafaltus, cadafaldus, cadaffale, cadapallus, cadaphallus, chafallus. Of unknown derivation; even the original form is uncertain; French pointing to ‑fald‑ or ‑falt‑, Italian to ‑falc‑, Spanish to ‑fals (see scaffold n.).

    Notes
    The derivation proposed by Diez is entirely discarded (see Romania I. 490). M. Paul Meyer thinks the first element may be the Greek κατα- which was sometimes used in medieval Latin in sense ‘beside’, ‘alongside’ (Romania II. 80). ‘The cadafals or chaafaus in Old French was a wooden erection crowning walls, and projecting from them on both sides. Thence the besieged commanded assailants beneath’.

    I assume they didn’t give Diez’s derivation because somebody might have misremembered that it was accepted.

    Is the M. before “Paul Meyer” his initial or monsieur? I suppose it’s the latter.

    Etymonline says confidently of *catafalicum (s.v. “scaffold”):

    This is from Greek kata- “down” (see cata-), used in Medieval Latin with a sense of “beside, alongside” + fala “scaffolding, wooden siege tower,” a word said to be of Etruscan origin.

  10. Diez, Etymologisches Wörterbuch der romanischen Sprachen (4. Aufl., 1878) on it. catafalco:

    Das wort ist zwgs. aus catar schauen, prov. erweicht in cadar, und aus falco, entstellt .[…] aus ital. palco gerüst, das selbst wieder deutschen ursprunges ist, also schaugerüste, gerüste zu öffentlicher schau.

  11. @ulr: Thanks!

    @me: Wiktionary even more confidently gives the Etruscan etymology as 𐌚𐌀𐌋𐌀 (fala), with a link to this entry, which glosses it as

    1. column, pillar
    2. pole of wood, pile of wood
    3. siege tower

    and cites Massimo Pittau’s Etruscan dictionary.

  12. Is that OED etymology recently updated? I find it curious that they give the thoroughly obsolete form cadahalso as if it were current. I’ve only ever encountered cadalso, and that as a literary term

  13. It’s from 1910, last modified in this very month, but still not completely revised. The etymology for “catafalque”, last modified in July, 2023, doesn’t even say that cadafalso is obsolete.

    According to wordreference, cadalso is only the gallows. The scaffold next to a building is andamio.

  14. Etymologies are almost never touched by the “partial interim updates” except for mechanical reformatting, such as expansion of abbreviations and hyperlinking of cross-references. You can click through to the Second Edition from the entry history box to confirm that those are the only changes to the scaffold etymology since 1989. And as far as I know there were no updates to etymologies in 1989, they were just copied from the previous editions, even if they were known to be wrong (e.g. zebra). You can also look up scaffold in the first edition to confirm that the etymology was unchanged from 1910.

    There are a few entries that have had the etymology recently revised but not the whole entry, e.g. five and several other numerals, but in those cases the entry history box says so: “The following sections of this entry have been updated: Etymology (2019), Forms (2019)”.

  15. Andrei has a new post at The Untranslated:

    The reception of the English translation of Schattenfroh (tr. Max Lawton, ed. Matthias Friedrich) proved to be considerably more enthusiastic than I had expected. It is really heart-warming to see so many readers seriously engage with this extraordinary book. To make the experience of tackling Michael Lentz’s novel a bit easier I have decided to share this Reader’s Guide. It is an adaptation of certain parts of my guide made specifically for the reading group I managed several years ago. That guide was meant for the original, so I had to tweak some things for the English speaking audience. The main purpose of this rather amateurish compilation is to save the reader the trouble of looking up things, so you will find lots of explanations regarding allusions, quotations, names, facts, and obscure words found in the book. This is in no way an exhaustive or definitive guide to Schattenfroh, and inevitably there will be some things that I have missed or failed to explicate. Don’t judge me too harshly! I have incorporated my visual guide into this one, so now you have everything in one place. As a supplement I have added my 35-page summary of Schattenfroh, which may be convenient for some readers that may feel lost while working through the novel. Please bear in mind that this is a summary of the German original, not the translation, although I did manage to change a couple of things, like page numbers. May A Reader’s Guide to Schattenfroh be a faithful companion on your journey through the shadowy, labyrinthine world of Michael Lentz’s magnum opus.

    A commenter says “I’m 600 pages in! I wish I had this earlier. Nevertheless, wow! We really need this guide!!!!!! Thank you!!!!!” Excitable but appropriate; it’s a great resource.

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