A Q&A with Domenico Starnone and Oonagh Stransky, author and translator of The House on Via Gemito

How does it feel to be longlisted for the International Booker Prize 2024, and what would winning the prize mean to you? Would it also have an impact on literature originating from Italy? 

I’m happy of course. If a book translated from Italian won, it would be something new and perhaps it would lead to greater attention to a literature that is very lively and inventive. 

What were the inspirations behind the book? What made you want to tell this particular story? 

I wanted to tell the story of an unhappy artist and his family, against the backdrop of fascism and of post-war Italy. I took my father, a man of genius and great vitality, as a model. But, above all, I decided to write this story for love of my mother, to whom the book is dedicated. 

How long did it take to write the book, and what does your writing process look like? Do you type or write in longhand? Are there multiple drafts? Is the plot and structure intricately mapped out in advance?  

It took me a couple of years. But I had several unsatisfactory attempts behind me, and hundreds of pages of notes, memories, and testimonies. When I write, I don’t plan ahead. I start with notes in pencil, to which I subsequently give a provisional order. Then I move on to the first draft using the computer. I write many drafts before arriving to the final text.   
 
What was the experience of working with the book’s translator, Oonagh Stransky, like? How closely did you work together on the English edition? Were there any surprising moments during your collaboration, or joyful moments, or challenges? 

I admire the work of my translators, the texts are difficult especially due to the connection between language and dialect. Oonagh has great sensitivity and competence, and I have much respect for her. I always felt the book was in good hands. We wrote to each other when necessary. 

What was your path to becoming a reader – what did you read as a child and what role did storytelling play in your younger years? Was there one book in particular that captured your imagination? 

I am and have always been a reader who reads everything. I start from the assumption that even a bad book can have a page or even just two lines that will surprise me. 

How does it feel to be longlisted for the International Booker Prize 2024 – an award which recognises authors and translators equally – and what would winning the prize mean to you?   

The first reaction I had to the announcement was of lightness, with the announcement lifting many of the burdens that come with this profession. Then I felt seen and recognised for my hard work, as if it’s all been worth it. Finally, I found myself smiling broadly – so I was right about how good this book is! 

Arriving at this stage is already a big deal for me; winning the prize would confirm the power of persistence. Translating literature for a living is not an easy path, but I’ve stuck with it and there have been some fantastic moments, such as this one. Winning the prize would also underscore Domenico Starnone’s incredible talent.   

How long did it take to translate the book, and what does your working process look like? Do you read the book multiple times first? Do you translate it in the order it’s written?   

When translating contemporary literature, I never read the whole book first. I need to be aware of the feelings I experience while I’m reading it for the first time and make sure that those emotions are present in the translation. I need to feel all the tension, humour, violence, anguish, desire, confusion…. I then go through many editing phases, always with the original by my side.    

Translating Via Gemito took me eight months, working seven hours a day, six or seven days a week. I researched words and phrases in dialect by using online resources or querying friends. I kept a running list of notes: things that surprised me, doubts, and tangentially related ideas. Before handing in any manuscript, I always read it out loud. Working with the editor on the text and seeing the book laid out in “proof” form are two additional key moments in the process.   

Aside from the book, what other writing did you draw inspiration from for your translation?  

When translating contemporary literature, I don’t draw on other writings but focus solely on the narrative voice (unless the book is a ‘written in the vein of…’ genre, like a literary gamebook I once translated). I allow myself to be drawn in; I let myself make connections with my own experiences. In the case of Via Gemito, I reflected at length on intense memories of homes I’ve lived in, spaces, and rooms. I’ve been to Naples, but even so, I pored over maps of the city, tracing streets with my finger, searching with the narrator for something firm to grasp onto. I understand what it means to be the child of an artist because my own mother was a painter: I could smell the studio space, visualise the tools, I know how an artist concentrates, and their total, intense devotion to their work. By making these kinds of personal connections, I was better able to carry over Starnone’s story into English.  

What was your path to becoming a reader – what did you read as a child and what role did storytelling play in your younger years? Was there one book in particular that captured your imagination? 

I read everything I could get my hands on. Our house was filled with books, but I loved reading certain sections of The Herald Tribune, comic books, and the National Geographic magazine. As a very young reader, I had a series of classic fairy tales with gorgeous illustrations that were very large; I remember holding them in my small hands and trying to read. A few years later, I loved Ripley’s Believe it or Not, Arthur Gross’ Children’s Garden of Bible Stories, and nature encyclopedias. Then, all the classics: Harriet the Spy, the Mouse and the Motorcycle, The Great Brain, Trumpet of the Swan, Nancy Drew books, Judy Blume, Roald Dahl. I was a bit of a rowdy kid in middle school and often had to stay after school as punishment. More often than not, I was sent to the library to help straighten up books and wrap them in plastic covers. It was fun!  

Which work of translated fiction do you wish you had translated yourself, and what aspects of this particular work do you admire most? 

I deeply admired Kenneth Steven’s translation of The Half Brother by Lars Saabye Christensen. I was captivated by the story, and the translator made it feel so natural, making it a compelling read. 

Czech literature has a special place in my heart because my father was born in Prague, and I always heard the language spoken at home. I admire Michael Henry Heim’s translation of Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being and enjoyed Bringing up Girls in Bohemia, by Michal Viewegh, translated by A.G. Brain.  

Do you have a favourite International Booker Prize-winning or shortlisted novel and, if so, why? 

I was curious to read last year’s winner, Time Shelter, by Georgi Gospodinov, translated by Angela Rodel, because of my interest in the power of memory and remembering. I found the descriptions of time to be incredibly striking, I thought the premise was original and quirky; everything feels dreamlike but, at the same time, necessary – a kind of fanta-philosophy.  

What role do you think translated fiction plays in promoting a more inclusive and diverse literary canon, and how can we encourage more people to read it?  

Translated fiction brings readers to new worlds where certain aspects of life – cultural practices, habits, histories, social matters – are different but where other issues – feelings and situations – are shared. By discovering our commonalities, readers inevitably become more tolerant and empathetic.  

I’d like to see the topic of translation discussed more in schools. When young people try to do their own short translations, they appreciate how difficult it is to write well in English and how empowering it is to know another language. Such activities might encourage young people to read more widely.