Fair: The Life-Art of Translation, is a satirical, refreshing and brilliantly playful book about learning the art of translation, being a bookworker in the publishing industry, growing up, family, and class.
Loosely set in an imagined book fair/art fair/fun fair, in which every stall or ride imitates a real-world scenario or dilemma which must be observed and negotiated, the book moves between personal memories and larger questions about the role of the literary translator in publishing, about fairness and hard work, about the ways we define success, and what it means – and whether it is possible – to make a living as an artist.
Fair is also interested in questions of upbringing, background, support, how different people function in the workplace, and the ways in which people are excluded or made invisible in different cultural and creative industries. It connects literary translation to its siblings in other creative arts to show how creative and subjective a practice it is while upholding the ethics and politics at play when we translate someone else’s work.
Blurring the lines between memoir, autofiction, satire and polemic, Fair is a singularly inventive and illuminating book by one of the UK’s most original and admired writers and translators.
During that course, I went from only surmising what translation is – words exchanged into other words – to what I know now: translation is literature I’ve understood utterly and completely be written into literature.
Jen Calleja is a poet, writer, essayist, co-founding editor of Praspar Press (an independent micro-publisher of Maltese literature) and drummer/vocalist in a collection of DIY punk bands including Sauna Youth, as well as being a International Booker shortlisted translator.
Fair: The Life-Art of Translation is a memoir/essay on the art of literary translation, and Calleja is correctly clear that this is a creative and artistic accomplishment, not a mechanical endeavour.
As with the author's brilliant Vehicle, this is told in a highly innovative way - veering, as the blurb says between the polemic and the playful, and I wonder if we may see this feature on the Goldsmiths, as Kate Briggs' creative essay This Little Art, one of many translation essay/memoirs referenced here, did previously.
Here the conceit of the book is that Calleja has created, mentally if not physically, a Translation Fair, themed around her life, work and influences:
It's an art/book/fun fair,but also a medieval walled city; a mall, a multiplex, a multimedia arts centre. It's multpurpose. An epic maze of stands, stalls, booths, installations, rides, arcades, a canteen, a cinema.
And she uses each of those stands/stalls/booths as a starting point to discuss various aspects of her own experiences and her thoughts on translation, in a series of short pieces.
The quote that opens my review is from a residential translation workshop she attended in the early stages of her career, run by Maureen Freely and Sasha Dugdale, with guest mentors Daniel Hahn and the Anthea Bell. The translator's name typography something Calleja employs effectively throughout the book to literally underline the importance of translation, as well as here acknowledging the greatness of someone who was both Sebald's co-creator of the majestic Austerlitz and the co-creator in English of the Anglicised puns in our version of the Asterix comics, which Peter Hunt, Professor Emeritus in Children's Literature at Cardiff University, described as "ingenious translations ... [which] display the art of the translator at its best"
Calleja's own life and background feature significantly, and were initially the parts of the work that least grabbed me, but they become highly relevant as part of her thesis here is around exclusion, and particular the barriers to social mobility in the arts, an important topic. And she ends the work with final thoughts on a different take on 'fairs' - fairness in the art of translation and how is it recognised and rewarded.
Brilliantly done and highly recommended. 4.5 stars.
The book is published by the wonderful Prototype Press.
Prototype Press
Founded in 2019 by Jess Chandler, Prototype is a publisher of fiction, poetry, anthologies and interdisciplinary projects. With an emphasis on producing unique and beautiful books, we are committed to championing the work of new voices in free-form contemporary literature.
Prototype is committed to creating new possibilities in the publishing of fiction and poetry through a flexible, interdisciplinary approach. Each publication is unique in its form and presentation, and the aesthetic of each object is considered critical to its production.
Through the discovery of high quality work across genres, Prototype strives to increase audiences for experimental writing, as the home for writers and artists whose work requires a creative vision not offered by mainstream literary publishers.
Rarely have I felt so "seen" by a book. Like Jen Calleja, I'm a German>English literary translator (in the broadest sense), and a musician, and someone whose brain perhaps makes her uniquely suited to the strange, solitary life of a translator and who would struggle in a more conventional working environment, and someone who has faced (and continues to face) many of the professional and personal challenges mentioned in this book. I wanted to highlight something on almost every page, and I found myself (ruefully) chuckling and nodding throughout.
This is a really interesting experimental work. It's not a novel, not a memoir as such, and not a book of essays. It takes the form of an imagined visit to a fair (like an art fair, or a book fair, or a fun fair), with each short "chapter" situated in a different part of this virtual fair and covering a different aspect of translation and life as a translator. It's funny and heartbreaking and infuriating, and reading it made me feel much less alone in my weird little corner of the literary/publishing world. I would be interested to know what someone who *wasn't* immersed in this world would think of the book. For my part, I'm much to close to the subject matter to think it was anything but excellent.
If a book ever both inspires you to consider a second masters degree and encourages you to write your own novel, that book is legally required to receive a glowing review, that's just the law. The format for Fair is interesting: as a reader you're treated as a guest being walked through a physical fair where Jen Calleja has set up exhibits to portray different facets of her professional and personal life as a translator. As somebody who used to be quite the avid language learner and has some experience with translation (though not the literary kind, unfortunately) everything about this was right up my alley. There's this one chapter where Calleja talks the reader through every thought or idea she has when trying to translate the opening sentence of a novel, and it was by fair my favorite part of the whole thing. Both writing and translation are creative works where every word could be deeply meaningful and symbolic or completely simple and random, and WE'LL NEVER KNOW!!!! while this is immensely frustrating, it also allows for infinite freedom and that's what I love so much about language and words and UGH! (anyone remember that I wrote my CommonApp essay as a poem about loving words? well this book almost made me go dig that out of the archives.)
Anyways, if you're already pretty interested in writing or translation or are fascinated by niche professions and the people who excel at them, than I would definitely recommend picking up this book. Literary translators have started to get a liiiitttllleee bit more recognition recently, but holy heck do they deserve a lot more. Calleja has interesting thoughts on the whole industry and what it means to feel 'qualified' or 'justified' in translating something. Her thoughts on who feels confident calling a certain translation 'right' or 'wrong' and the entitlement and elitism within is *chefs kiss*.
In 2026 I'm getting my Russian back and we're going for at least 10% of my reading in foreign languages: I'm putting that into the universe NOW!
Absolutely loved it! Memoir, manifesto, dreamscape I was familiar with some of the content of the book: either having heard Jen reading from it or seen excerpts published in various literary magazines, but it was great to see everything together in one playful but nevertheless carefully planned structure. Jen combines memoir with laugh-out-loud funny, but always serious meditations on the working conditions for translators, who gets to translate, mastering a language, nationality, class, expectations and the publishing industry.
This book reached back in time to my university years and answered so many questions and reassured so many worried about translation. As an activity, as a job, as something that is part of us even when it’s not in the job description. So glad I got the special yellow cover edition at the bookshop in Hackney!
An absolutely brilliant book - all you've ever wanted to know about the mysterious and magical (to me!) world of translating and translators. Startlingly well written in a playful form that grabs and maintains attention and with a fresh, original style that's hugely entertaining, super-interesting and informative, witty, considered and forthright. Loved it!
A very fun and interesting deep dive into translation as an art form, the working conditions of translators (what am I letting myself in for) and the book industry more generally. Might sound dry but Jen is a witty narrator, with quite a lot of memoir thrown in.
What is it like to be a literary translator? In this playful, entertaining and enlightening memoir, Jen Calleja takes us through her life and craft. A marvellous ride.
I loved the creative approach to this book, and really enjoyed learning about Jen Calleja's experiences as a translator. Their love of translation shone through in the writing and made it a great read. I appreciated her advocacy for translation to be more open to people of all backgrounds, and better paid for everyone. Also it made me happy seeing her mention a lot of translators/authors I love! Lastly, I really liked their interpretation of the metamorphosis as representing illness, as that was exactly my interpretation when I read it.