I was recently in Krakow and walked the streets that I have come to love so much. I stood and watched the building where my Adam buys an apartment in my latest novel, Sonata for Miriam. I envy him his place in this city.
My first novel had just hit the Polish book stores and it was a strange feeling to hold my own book in my hands, yet not being able to read a word. I understand that the title is taken from the heading of the next to last chapter of the novel: May a good wind blowâ€¦, in Polish â€˜Niech wieje dobry wiatr.â€™ It sounds good. I also like the cover, so different from any of the others, yet so appropriate.
When I returned to Stockholm, the first copies of the Japanese edition were waiting. The title is ???????????. Pronounced â€˜yasashii utao utatte-ageruâ€™, and meaning â€˜Let me sing gentle songsâ€™. I and opened one copy â€“ from the opposite side from what I am used to. The text looked like delicate drawings on the page. I could not help but reflect that translations involve a large amount of trust, humbleness and gratitude.