Category Archives: Awards

Generosity

Translator Daniel Hahn had two pieces of good news to share yesterday. First he won the International Dublin Literary Award with author José Eduardo Agualusa for the book A General Theory of Oblivion. They share the €100,000 award, which is very generous as literary prizes go. Even Daniel’s 25% is a lot of money.

And then Daniel decided to give some of it away again. He’s using half his money to fund a new First Translation Award for the Society of Authors, with an annual £2000 given to a first literary translation, to be shared by the translator and the editor.

But the generosity of people does not end there. Many of our favourite illustrators have donated art to an auction starting tomorrow, in aid of stranded refugees in Greece, via the Three Peas charity. I’ve had a little look, and there are many, many beautiful illustrations that would look great on anybody’s wall. Go on, you have about ten days to bid!

Not surprisingly the dreadful tragedy of the fire at Grenfell Tower in London has caused many authors to join in to help raise money for the British Red Cross to help residents affected by the fire. Authors for Grenfell Tower can be found here.

As always, there are many interesting and diverse items and services on offer. I quite fancy naming a character in Philip Pullman’s 2nd Book of Dust. I’m guessing that could fetch a lot of money. Or I could go book shopping with Lucy Mangan.

Winning SWEA over

‘Who’s giving Son this money then?’ the Retired Children’s Librarian asked. On being told it was SWEA she turned out to be better informed than I’d assumed (it’s a women’s organisation) and asked if they’d made a mistake. Haha. As if male candidates can’t receive a stipend from them. They can. And Son did.

Seeing as SWEA International were to hand over his prize at a ceremony in Helsingborg last night and we were actually not too far way, the Resident IT Consultant and I decided to invite ourselves to this mingling with the Mayor, followed by speeches and the handing over of flowers and pretend cheques.

Earlier in the day I’d walked past the Town Hall and noticed that the main entrance was closed, wondering if I’d not be able to make a grand entrance after all. But by the time the mingling commenced it was open and we all trotted up those imposing stairs.

The Mayor spoke about his town and then he took selfies with the assembled ladies (and three gentlemen). From there we moved into the room where the serious town hall stuff happens, and the four recipients of the prizes were introduced.

The dentist was out first; the beautiful Iranian Nikoo Bazsefidpay who has started up a Swedish Dentists sans frontieres, if you can imagine, which made her Swedish Woman of the Year (Årets Svenska Kvinna). Young children in Zimbabwe now go to school more happily in the mornings, because they get to brush their teeth there…

Next came Son for research into the Swedish language, literature and society, and even though I’d already read his speech, I found it interesting. But then I would. Son even included a photo of our bookshelves, from before he ‘borrowed’ our Martin Beck novels. We’ve not seen them since.

Third was Sami Elin Marakatt in full national dress, who taught us to say hello in North Sami (very different from South Sami, apparently). She will use her Intercultural Relations money to study cross border movements of reindeer in Tromsø. I find the way some people feel so definitely belonging in a certain geographical spot in this world so very reassuring, somehow.

Last but not least was 16-year-old ballet dancer Agnes Rosendahl, who dances all day long, and who will go to school in Copenhagen where she will dance even more. She showed us her toe-dancing shoes which, if I understood her correctly, have concrete in the tips.

IMG_0760

After much photographing, the SWEA ladies and their winning guests walked off to Dunkers Kulturhus for a well deserved dinner. The Resident IT Consultant and I wolfed down some sandwiches in the car before driving north with Son’s flowers.

Hopefully they will not be dead when he shows up next week. Although it won’t matter; he’ll be so sleep deprived by then that he won’t see them.

Good for children

We have a new Children’s Laureate. It’s the very popular Lauren Child – another illustrator – whose name I am childishly happy to realise is sort of similar to her new title; child and laure.

Chris Riddell and Lauren Child

When I spoke to Chris last year I wasn’t surprised to find that he was looking forward to the end of his two years, when he’d be able to maybe rest a little, and to concentrate on his own work. Though I am sure he will also miss the whole thing a bit.

Chris is a hard act to follow, so I’ll be interested to see what Lauren will do. (Rather her than me!) I never totally grasped Lauren’s greatness, with Offspring just too old for her oh so popular books. But listening to those who know better, she is big.

And hopefully full of energy. She’ll need it.

Another accolade to the illustrating world was Scottish Book Trust’s Outstanding Achievement Award given to Mairi Hedderwick last week. As with the laureate-ship I couldn’t quite come up with my own theoretical shortlist, but on finding out that Mairi was the inaugural winner, I felt it all made sense. Who else but Katie Morag’s mum?

Mairi Hedderwick

Isn’t it interesting that all three people in this post are illustrators? Authors as well, but rather better at drawing pictures than most of us.

Bookwitch bites #142

It was nice to find myself in the company of Chris Riddell* and Judith Kerr for breakfast yesterday. Not for real, and it’s not as we were all in Hay or anything, but these two lovely people had dragged themselves into a radio studio ‘early’ on a Sunday morning to share their thoughts about Manchester and Hitler and whether to keep the truth from children.

Judit Kerr, stolen, borrowed from Chris Riddell

The downside to that, as Judith said, is that children think anyway and come up with the oddest ideas. So Hitler wasn’t actually hiding behind the hanging decoration in the toilet. But she sort of believed he might be. And Chris mentioned that his immediate reaction on hearing the Manchester news was to think of his daughter, recently graduated from University there. It’s how we function; we grab something close to ourselves.

In the Guardian Review we could read an extract from Philip Pullman’s Book of Dust. It didn’t take more than a few sentences and I was back in Lyra’s world. I already like Malcolm and his suspicious mind.

Jonathan Stroud, The Empty Grave

Another book to look forward to is Jonathan Stroud’s last Lockwood – The Empty Grave – which had a cover reveal this week. I tend to sneer a bit at reveals like this, but I found myself quite taken with it. Lovely to see George at long last. And I’d say that whereas an empty grave could be seen as a positive thing, I don’t think we should have such sweet expectations here (because where is the corpse?).

Awards are good. Especially when given to the right people for the right books. Some favourites of mine have recently managed this. Simon Mason was awarded Best Crime Novel for Young Adults at CrimeFest for Kid Got Shot. Robin Stevens got the award for Best Crime Novel for Children. I’m simply pleased that the younger books are getting attention like this.

Adrian McKinty won the Edgar for Rain Dogs, which is no minor thing, and is well deserved. He seems quite pleased, judging by this blog post. At home in Australia minding the children, Adrian sent his wife to receive the prize.

(*I’m counting on Mr Riddell’s goodwill in not minding having his sketch stolen by me, as usual.)

The route to permanent secretary

Meeting Sara Danuis’s predecessor Peter Englund didn’t make me feel we shared a background, especially. Apart from being Swedes. Reading about the current permanent secretary to the Swedish Academy I hoped Sara and I might have had more in common. She’s six years younger, but that’s nothing between peers. At our age, anyway.

And she looks familiar, but her name was completely new to me when she made the Bob Dylan announcement last autumn. Sara lived with her single mother, who wrote books in the bathroom. I lived with my single mother, but she definitely didn’t write books, anywhere. And it seems we had more books at home.

But when I read that Sara’s mother was Anna Wahlgren, the penny dropped. They might have been poor, and she might have written books in bathrooms, but Anna was famous and she and her children featured in countless magazine articles (which I read). Maybe that was where I ‘recognised’ her from.

Sara Danius in Vi Magazine

Her first own book that she bought was Ture Sventon, which wouldn’t have been my choice, but I can see where she’s coming from. Having a secretary who brings you Lent buns on demand is not a bad thing. All year round. Then, like me, Sara read what was available, which in her case was Sven Delblanc. I remember him too, including learning – like Sara – how to say his name. But I didn’t read his [adult] novels.

From there on my inferiority complex grows. While I did grapple with books typical for upper teens to read, I rarely enjoyed them, and I moved on, which in my case seems to have been backwards. Sara read Homer, Balzac, Sartre and Proust. And enjoyed them.

That‘s how you come to be permanent secretary to the Swedish Academy.

Seeing Catherine Clarke

Well, no, I haven’t. Not recently.

But I was pleased to hear that literary agent Catherine Clarke – responsible for Meg Rosoff, among many others – has been chosen Literary Agent of the Year. Which is very nice.

My impression is that Catherine works hard. She is ‘responsible for’ by far the most sightings of any agent I am capable of recognising when out and about. Once in London, I reckon Daughter and I managed to come across her three times in one day.

A couple of years ago Daughter reported seeing someone on the tube as she travelled through London, someone who ‘had to be an author, and who could it have been?’ I told her people look the same.

Then when she arrived in Oxford, she ran into Meg Rosoff, which made me a bit jealous. I don’t run into my favourite author, just like that. And within minutes ‘that woman off the tube’ appeared as well, at which point it became clear she really had recognised her, because it was Catherine. Who also must have accidentally run into one of her authors.

So basically, she’s everywhere, and I’m sure that helps in knowing what to do about authors and their books. If I hear that an author is looked after by Catherine, I feel that is a recommendation in itself.

Congratulations!

The Bookseller - Catherine Clarke

(Apologies to The Bookseller for borrowing their page.)

From ALMA laureate to ALMA laureate

My immediate reaction this week when the new Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award winner was announced, was the usual one; that the members of the jury are really good at picking obscure people. But then, I dare say others thought that about my favourite, last year’s winner Meg Rosoff. We can’t all have heard of everyone. Besides, I’d been expecting an organisation to be chosen this year. I felt it was time.

So Wolf Erlbruch was a completely new name to me. Except, the mention of tulips rang a vague bell in the deepest corners of my memory. And Meg was so happy about the winner. She clearly knew Wolf.

And I Googled, as I tend to do. Yes, she had definitely mentioned Wolf Erlbruch in the past, and the tulip. And apart from her review in the Guardian of his book Duck, Death and the Tulip, I am fairly certain she had enthused about it privately to me as well.* As I said, it rang a bell, and the ringing got louder the more I thought.

My next memory was that I had read it. Except, I don’t believe I have. I’d have reviewed it myself if I’d read the book, and I hadn’t. (Please correct me if I’m wrong.) But I distinctly recall being sent a book that supposedly was the one Meg loved so much, and me reading it. Because I remember the publisher and where they are based.

I am so confused. I obviously must make amends and get on and read something, and tulips seem like a Bookwitchy place to start.

This award winning is like a relay; one winner absolutely adoring the next one, and so on…

*Yeah, looked it up. She did, and perhaps I happened to ignore her advice.