The Centrality of Peripheral Literatures
by Marinella Magrì

It is perhaps odd to call a literature ‘peripheral’ when in fact, by the time most contemporary Welsh writings reach the desks of foreign agents and editors, they have been translated and adapted to the world’s dominant language: English. And yet reading the stories and novels of Welsh authors one does breathe a periphery made of claustrophobic valleys, high-unemployment townships, silent family dramas, lives made tolerable by drugs, alcohol and dark humour in a land of unending rain, a climate that at times seems to reflect the spirit of its people. It’s not a trendy sort of periphery, not like the exotic ones you find in stories of minorities caught in faraway wars, or personal takes on natural disasters, or women struggling for better conditions – in short, it’s not the sort of periphery that has almost become mainstream in today’s publishing world.
But despite all this, it is in my opinion precisely by clinging, more or less consciously, to the cultural and literary tradition of their roots, that some young Welsh authors have left their shores and been published (or are due to be published) in Denmark, Italy, France, Spain, Portugal, Russia, Latin America, the USA, Australia and even, through the most recently signed license, in China. These are mostly literary texts that reflect the harshness of Welsh life, the fixity of certain landscapes, the mythical dimension surfacing in ordinary lives. At times it is even possible, thanks to some excellent translations, to feel the musicality of the Gaelic phrases lurking behind the English prose, which may well be one of the ingredients that intrigue and fascinate foreign readers.
Looking at the list of countries where rights to these works have been sold, it might look like a relatively easy task, but the reality is different. The engaging years during which we have collaborated with Parthian Books and the ever-active Welsh Literature Abroad have been hard work, and we expect the future to be no cakewalk. I think it is no exaggeration to say that the ratio between the number of texts sent to editors around the world and the translation licenses actually issued is over twenty to one. What is certain is that even those publishers who, after evaluating these writings, eventually declined to publish them in their country, are now aware that something important is going on in Wales where art and literature are concerned.
Parthian Books, thanks also to its ‘Carnival of Voices’, is a dynamic cultural project that is gradually becoming better known outside Britain. One example of their dynamism is the publication of authors like Glen Peters, born in India but a long-time English resident, whose Mrs D’Silva and the Shaitan of Calcutta is a well-crafted novel that borrows the whodunit structure to paint a sharp, enjoyable fresco of 1960s India, with its still powerful class system and seething political turmoil (both the novel and its as-yet-unpublished sequel recently found an Italian publisher).
Another excellent initiative by Parthian has been the re-publication of Welsh classics under the Library of Wales imprint, great works of Welsh literature that are starting to enjoy new lives in foreign languages. I’m thinking of The Dark Philosophers by Gwyn Thomas, for example, published in Spain by Siruela and always present in our agency’s lists. Or the splendid new edition of Dai Smith’s Raymond Williams: A Warrior’s Tale, due to be published in Spanish by the University of Valencia Press.
Clearly, lining up ‘outsiders’ like Glen Peters next to classics like Raymond Williams, Gwyn Thomas or Arthur Machen, and then adding to the mix young voices such as Rachel Trezise, Cynan Jones, Richard Gwyn, Jo Mazelis, Deborah Kay Davies (just to quote some of the names for whom we have found foreign publishers through the years) is more than a publishing operation, it is a cultural project.
So if when I started managing foreign rights for Parthian, I tended to see the ‘Welshness’ of these new voices as a potential obstacle to their finding homes abroad, today I am instead convinced that it will be precisely through loyalty to their cultural ‘imprint’ that contemporary Welsh authors will continue to find space on the shelves of foreign bookstores. That is why I hope the natural colours of this literature – which range from rural to gothic, by way of noir and an endearing black humour – never run into more commercial genres, like thrillers or historical novels.
This article originally appeared in A470 magazine.
Marinella Magrì is a founding partner of Il Caduceo agenza letteraria. Previously a scriptwriter for cinema, TV and radio, she has also worked as a translator and freelance editor for Italian publishers and is mostly responsible for fiction.
