Earlier this month, Bwog attended a Columbia School of the Arts Writing Program craft talk and Q&A with Megan McDowell, an award-winning translator of contemporary Latin American horror.

On Wednesday, March 9, I readily logged into another of Columbia School of the Arts’ unmatched author events (previously, I’ve gleaned literary wisdom from Maggie Nelson, Catherine Lacey, Amitava Kumar, and N.K. Jemisin). A German major whose schedule is consistently filled with creative writing courses, I’m finally taking a class in literary translation this spring, and the opportunity to spend an hour with Megan McDowell––a celebrity in the world of literary translation––was unbeatable. McDowell’s many translations have won her the English PEN award, the Premio Valle-Inclán, and the Shirley Jackson Prize. She has also been short- or long-listed four times for the International Booker Prize and shortlisted once for the Kirkus Prize. Originally from Kentucky, McDowell Zoomed in to the talk from where she’s currently living in Santiago, Chile.

Literary Translation at Columbia (LTAC) Director and Associate Professor Susan Bernofsky organized and led the event over Zoom. After an introduction by Zoe Engles, a first-year nonfiction writer and literary translator in the MFA program, McDowell began with her craft talk. About halfway through the event, Susan Bernofsky began facilitating discussion and sharing student questions from the chat.

On Atmosphere and Preparation

When Megan McDowell is getting ready to translate horror, she reads the opening paragraph of The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. She focuses on its music, dreaminess, and precise adjectives; the words Jackson uses to describe the physicality of the house can also describe the gothic novel’s theme of morality.

McDowell emphasizes that, as a translator, it’s important to think about what words say but also about how they sound and how they resonate.

On Stephen King’s Three Levels of Horror

Stephen King has categorized three levels of horror. To him, terror is the finest emotion: fear of the unknown and the imagined. Next comes horror, which is a reader or viewer’s reaction to something concrete. Third are gross-outs, characterized by repulsion and visceral disgust.

While McDowell agrees that the three categories exist, she doesn’t rank them hierarchically. Instead, she thinks that each gives the author an opportunity to hammer at certain phobic pressure points (whether universal, personal, national, or societal).

Samanta Schweblin, an Argentine author whom McDowell translates, writes in the realm of terror and is a “master of suspense.” In her novel, Fever Dream, precise images are “lit by flashlight” and the rest takes place in the reader’s head.

Mariana Enriquez, on the other hand, operates readily on each of the three levels and doesn’t shy from describing the disgusting in her short stories, which can be found in her collections The Dangers of Smoking in Bed and Things We Lost in the Fire.

On What Makes These Stories Latin American

Though Schweblin’s Fever Dream takes place in very separate and hermetic settings, McDowell describes how the novel still puts phobic pressure points on relevant societal and cultural fears, like a mother unable to protect her child or our pressing, immediate fears for the environment.

Enriquez’s settings are distinctly Latin American, and so are her repeating phobic pressure points: homelessness, dictatorships, disappearances, violence against women, poverty, and so on. Enriquez also takes the tropes of gothic horror (storms, fog, ghosts, the occult, blood rituals, architecture, mansions, etc.) and mixes them with Northern Argentina’s mythology and canon of popular saints.

On the Specific Difficulties of Tone in Translation

Early on in the process of translating, McDowell reads the original work and focuses on picking up precise images to grab hold of: terms and phrases that recur, change, and resonate throughout a piece. In Fever Dream, for example, these were ropes, lines, and twine; “rescue distance”; and “the important thing.” McDowell emphasizes just how many revisions of these terms she went through while drafting because Schweblin had embodied each term with so many changing meanings.

On the Translator as the Writer

At the conclusion of Megan McDowell’s craft talk, Susan Bernofsky comments on the way a translator must often think about word choice and themes while strategizing like a writer. Has McDowell thought of her relationship with her work this way?

According to McDowell, one of the hardest things to do when you’re starting out as a translator is to consider yourself a writer. One must think in a “writer-ly way,” both as an editor and an engaged, critical reader. When translating, she asks herself: How can the piece flow? How can it work better?

On Finding a Niche

For McDowell, horror has always been a favorite genre. She started reading romance books and Stephen King novels she’d stolen from her parents when she was a little kid––”They were kind of my favorite thing.”

On Discovering Writers to Translate

Bernofsky asks whether McDowell discovered Schweblin and Enriquez herself. Both authors had had long publishing histories in Argentina, and McDowell had read them both, but at the time, they already had English translators working with them. When the books were bought by US publishers, they were brought to McDowell, who read and loved them.

On Learning a Foreign Language

McDowell began learning Spanish in her twenties and considers herself far from bilingual, although living in Chile is definitely a benefit as she continues to learn the language. She feels like moving to a foreign country has allowed her to “make up for lost time,” and she’s better able to absorb Chilean Spanish, its references, and its history, which was especially important early on as a translator. She adds that with the pandemic, location hasn’t felt quite as important.

On Translating Slang

When approaching slang, tonal colloquial conversation, or teenage narrators, McDowell sticks to how she imagines these characters would speak in English. Rather than literal translations, she emphasizes tone and approaches passages with an editorial eye. What does she want to emphasize? As always, it’s important to pay attention to why every word is used.

On Working Closely with Authors

McDowell is glad to have good relationships with both authors but admits that early in her career, she was nervous to ask questions and felt that doing so was admitting failure. “Now, I bug people, asking about background information, explanations, textual questions, spatial questions.” McDowell is grateful that both authors are generous with their time.

On Different Vernaculars of Spanish

McDowell often thinks about how readers experience language in her translations. Alejandro Zambra is another author she translates, and in the middle of his career, he moved from Chile to Mexico. His texts have reflected his move, and McDowell notes that every time instances of vernacular come up, one has to consider how to address them and write differently.

In Zambra’s newest novel, Chilean Poet, Chile is at the core of the text. The reading experience of a Chilean reader will be different than that of an American, but McDowell doesn’t believe that constitutes a failure. Rather, it’s natural that an American is engaging with something foreign and a Chilean with something familiar.

To McDowell, the central question of translation is about how she can shape the English reader’s experience in a meaningful way.

On Familiarity with Mythology and Tradition

Mariana Enriquez’s work often deals with mythology and tradition in Argentina, and McDowell laughs as she says she’d love the opportunity to travel there, speak with people about folk culture, and soak it all in, but her translator’s salary doesn’t quite allow for it. Instead, she spends a lot of time researching on the internet, and she often talks to Enriquez herself and feels lucky she’s able to do so.

On Suspense while Translating

An audience member asks whether McDowell reads the whole work from beginning to end before translating. Does this affect her experience of the suspense of the book? McDowell answers that she does read the whole book once through, then she reads it again as she’s translating. While translating, she tries to remember her experience as a reader and rebuild that experience for an English audience. She emphasizes again that it’s important to have an idea of repeated images and ideas.

On Changes in the Publishing Industry

The final question of the evening is about changes in the way readers and publishers approach translations today. In the past, McDowell explains, writers have had to be very big before they were taken on for translation. Nowadays, editors find foreign writers earlier and earlier in their careers and follow them for more simultaneous publications.

Image via Columbia School of the Arts