Women, words and winners
Arifa Akbar

Herta Muller may have been a little-known Romanian-born German novelist and poet but publishing houses from around the world have been scrabbling to translate her work after she claimed the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Herta Mueller
Herta Mueller Photo: Reuters

Only four of Muller’s 15 works of fiction have so far been translated into English but by all indication that is about to change.

Muller, 56, whose works focus on describing life under Nicolae Ceausescu’s totalitarian regime, expressed her surprise at receiving the honour, saying: "I still can’t quite believe it."

She is now set to be a global phenomenon once the "Nobel effect" takes place. A spokeswoman from her German publisher, Karl Hauser, said they had been fielding phone calls from people expressing interest in obtaining her books in translation.

Pete Ayrton, at Serpent’s Tail, the first English publisher to translate Muller’s work, The Passport, in 1989, said up to only 20,000 copies of the book had been sold in 20 years, although he expected that number to rise substantially after the book was reissuedthis month. He said he had seen a similar effect take place after Elfriede Jelinek, author of The Piano Teacher (adapted for film by Michael Haneke), won the prize in 2004.

"We obviously expect to sell large quantities of The Passport in the UK. I suspect every publisher is going to get into some fierce bidding (for more translations). It means a lot to be a Nobel prize winner and it is the job of the Nobel prize (committee) to bring to wider public attention writers that are neglected," he said.

Mr Ayrton added that he had been struck by the beauty of the book, which is about a woman who, during Ceausescu’s regime, works in a clothes factory and sews notes into the suits of men bound for Italy that read "marry me". He said: "There is a wonderful evocation of a totalitarian regime based on everyday reality but it has a surreal edge, rather than social realism. That is part of its greatness."

Muller is the 12th woman to receive the Nobel prize since it was established in 1901. Born in 1953 in Romania, she refused to co-operate with Ceausescu’s Securitate and lost her job as a result. She was the subject of threats until she emigrated to Berlin in 1987, where she still lives. She has already received Germany’s most prestigious prize, the Kleist award, as well as the Franz Kafka prize and the Impac award. She has continued to write novels and poetry with themes of oppression, exile and dictatorship. The Swedish academy commended both her poetry and prose and said she "depicts the landscape of the dispossessed".

Fiona Sampson, editor of Poetry Review, said she had written some of her novels, courageously, under Ceausescu, rather than in the safety of Germany: "Very few writers in the world today are able to write like her in terms of the quality of her work, as well as her ability to bear witness. She is an extraordinary brave dissident who is also an extraordinary writer."

Two other novels – The Appointment and Children of Ceausescu, have been translated by American publishers. Her current novel, Atemschaukel, set in Romania during the Second World War, has sold 40,000 copies in Germany since its publication this August.

— By arrangement with The Independent

Tale of Tudor court
Boyd Tonkin

SO often in recent years a playground for the maverick judge, the runaway panel, the perverse decision, yesterday the Man Booker Prize rewarded a genuinely outstanding novel.Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall deserves its long-foretold triumph even though it ends mid-stream in summer 1535.

The final acts of Thomas Cromwell’s tale, as the arriviste fixer who opened every door for his master Henry VIII, remain untold. But this is a novel from an author who credits readers with the nous to foresee the end of a story — or of history’s sick joke — from its beautifully rendered beginnings.

Remember that Pat Barker, who should have won the Booker with the first volume of her First World War trilogy, Regeneration, had to wait until the slight anticlimax of The Ghost Road. So why not strike while the iron is hot? Some of our idioms — and Mantel deploys a salty, flinty language superbly well without ever sliding into Ye Olde Tudor costume — drama pastiche — would have sounded very familiar to Cromwell, the Putney blacksmith’s clever son.

And so would much else about today’s princes and courtiers to the ringmaster of a spectacular, and blood-stained, political circus. In the 1530s, as now, the savage quest to grasp and keep high office enlists grand ideas — the reformed religion and Renaissance humanism, in the case of Cromwell and his adversary Thomas More — with a mixture of shameless opportunism and genuine idealism.

When Mantel’s Cromwell stands up for Protestant liberty of conscience, she shows him as a pragmatic adopter of high-status new ideas but also as a spokesman for values that should persist. In her work, shining ideals and their tarnished promoters can never be separated for long.

Mantel has always written brilliantly about the operation of power. Above all, she focuses on those turning points of breakthrough and breakdown where personal and public motivations intersect. If Wolf Hall achieves the near-impossible task of rescuing the Tudor court saga from clich`E9 and melodrama, it also slots neatly into a body of work that looks shrewdly behind the robes and the words of the mighty.

Wolf Hall begins with a thrashed child; it ends with Cromwell imagining the execution of his nemesis, with More’s "lips moving in his final prayer".

 — The Independent






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