Yesterday I finished translating Hélène Cixous's Chapitre Los. I still have to make some corrections in the first part of the text, based on consultations with HC while I was in Paris. Then I shall leave it aside for a few weeks before I make my final run-through. When I do, I won't go back to the French text , because what I really want to see and hear is whether the text reads well in English, semantically, of course, but also musically.
Emily Grosholz, the poet and philosopher, and fellow translator of Yves Bonnefoy, has published a collection of poems called Childhood, with drawings by Lucy Vines. I was a little apprehensive when I picked up Grosholz's book, because, as a title for a book of poems, "childhood" seems a little forthright. Wrongly apprehensive, as I should have known. The poems are terrific, a mixture of intelligence and lyricism characteristic of Grosholz's poems, which I've long admired. And Vine's drawings exist in a haunted, dreamlike mindscape of their own. They can also be seen at the Thessa Herold Gallery in Paris.