I'll begin my best with books, because books are certainly among the best things there are.
I read at least four excellent books this year. Three of them are fiction: Roberto Bolaño's 2666, Jacques Roubaud's The Loop, and Kenzaburo Oe's The Changeling. I wouldn't want to say that one of these novels is better than the others (though I guess that's what one is supposed to do in these lists); they are each good in their own ways.
Bolaño's 2666 has received plenty of attention
already, and Oe is a Nobel laureate, so in an attempt to make this post useful—and don't we often use these sorts of lists as buyer's guides to the good stuff that's out there?—I will attempt to nudge readers in the direction of Jacques Roubaud, the artist perhaps least known of the three. His novels The Great Fire of London and The Loop, which have been brought into English thanks to a publisher that belongs on everyone's best-of list, Dalkey Archive, are two installments of a multi-volume examination of memory, and these first two entries suggest that Roubaud is the Proust of our time: his concerns are similar, and, yes, he is that good. You'll find a squib about The Loop here, and here's what I had to say about Oe's novel in The Japan Times. (I wrote a short take on 2666 as well, but in the changeover to TypePad from Vox it seems to have been lost in the Internet ether.)
Of the four standout books I read in 2010 one was non-fiction, Tsuneichi Miyamoto's The Forgotten Japanese. Of the truckloads of books that are written about Japan this is one of the few that is essential. Miyamoto does for the forgotten lives of Japanese peasants what John Berger did for the forgotten lives of their Alpine counterparts in his Into Their Labors tetralogy. Here's what I said about The Forgotten Japanese in The Japan Times. The past, Miyamoto reveals, really is another country.
I've shown you the faces of the authors of three of the four books that most delighted me in 2010. I have not shown you the faces of those who made the pleasure of these books accessible to me: the translators.
Literary translators are the people to whom I am most grateful this year. The books in question were translated by Natasha Wimmer (Bolaño), Deborah Boliver Boehm (Oe), Jeff Fort (Roubaud), and Jeffrey S. Irish (Miyamoto). I am grateful to all of them, and also to Jeffrey Angles, who made the superb poetry of Chimako Tada available, and Howard Curtis who brought us Jean-Claude Izzo's Marseilles Trilogy, respectively the best poetry and best thrillers I read this year.
That's all for now. I may be back at you with best movies, music, and other stuff. Now I'm off to eat some traditional Japanese New Year's food.
—David
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