Tobias Carroll recommends new and exciting books in translation from Lebanon, China, Spain, Japan, and France.

I return to the world as I depart, / having birthed another phantom, / a dweller of nebulous coasts, / a brief enemy of metaphors.

In English, Hindi, and Bangla—the languages I use daily—we spoke only of death and distress.

I’ve always felt that my commitment is to the text, not the author, but it is wonderful to be able to ask for and receive permission.

Cristina Pérez Díaz writes about four Puerto Rican poets whose work operates in the constructions of queer bodies and of the nation.

Recent and forthcoming poetry in translation from Mexico, South Korea, Croatia, Haiti, and more.

sometimes i don’t want to be saved

I like to imagine that, in this defining moment, as my grandfather struggled with the dead man’s sinews, he was able to calm his rage for a moment and laugh.

Hypocrite that I am, I never acknowledged my true self out of cowardice, out of fear of being misunderstood, and, more than anything else, because I thought if they knew what I was, they’d despise me.

The world appeared in stages with each rung of the ladder I climbed.

As they drew nearer, knives in hand, Hilaire recognized the feverish eyes behind their scarves.

“We toppled Lenin!” exclaimed Firman after a dramatic pause.

Tobias Carroll recommends exciting new books from Cameroon, Mexico, Japan, Spain, Sweden, and Kazakhstan.

The interplay of night and day. Deception and falsity.

Home is an ever-changing aspiration, not a truth or guarantee.

The transworld was so beautiful, so vast! There was so much to explore!

It’s sun-kissed, industrial, god-fearing, gas-guzzling, all of it built on a harrowing history of lynch mobs and expropriation.

A playlist for Hernán Bravo Varela's eulogy for his father and the music that he loved

I’ll speak up, I’ll be fearless, and I swear to never back down until I have prevailed against the powerful trying to lock up the weak in a dark hole.

Anything audible can be remembered.

It’s because all we’ve been talking about these evenings are the old legends, and that’s what brought the fox here.

New Yorker critic Merve Emre and WWB Books Editor Adam Dalva talk about the 2022 International Booker Prize, recognition for translators, and her journey as a critic.

Homophobia is everywhere. I didn't realize I would grapple with it upon leaving Nigeria.

They stuffed these intoxicating little spheres into their mouths and kissed the juice off of the palms of their hands.

Two go-betweens working a corrupt legal system find themselves being recruited by a dangerous employer in this story from Fernanda Melchor's This Is Not Miami, nominated for the 2023 National Book Award for Translation.

We will need new maps as well as the courage and humor of travelers who won’t hesitate to stick their heads outside the sphere of the world-up-to-this-point, beyond the horizon of existing dictionaries and encyclopedias.

Join us Wednesday, June 8, at 6 PM ET as New Yorker critic Merve Emre talks with WWB Books Editor Adam Dalva about her journey as a critic and the2022 International Booker Prize. Registration is free.

Nearing its twentieth anniversary, the premier publication for international literature reimagines what is to come.

Which experiences have a greater influence on us—our successes, or the times when we've been hurt?

We couldn't be more excited about our new, state-of-the-art home for international literature.