A tome I will return to again and again, surely. As one of the best Essayists of our time, Davis's second compilation takes readers on a phenomenal tour of her translation work.

Incredible essays I'd never thought of translation in this way before, the thrill and the challenge of it, how it can help balance a writer's life.
Grateful to reconsider the craft of translation.

Though I’d never read anything by Lydia Davis aside from some very short stories, I requested this book of essays without knowing much about the topic and, maybe, with some false impressions about the content. After finding out it was a book of essays about translation, I was a bit hesitant to pick it up, unsure if it would be for me. I’m really glad I did, however. First of all, I enjoyed Davis’s writing very much. Her writing to me is similar to her approach to translating: she is thoughtful, and her joy in the act shines through. This made the whole book a wonderful experience to read, even if sometimes the detail was a bit much. I admit, I skimmed over some parts and even skipped one or two essays because the particular topic of translation just did not interest me at all. Overall, though, the essays were surprisingly interesting! I have never had any interest in reading Proust, but reading about Davis’s translation process, and her passion for Proust’s writing and story, made me a little bit curious.
I particularly enjoyed the essays about her translating Dutch works, since I’m Dutch myself, and the ones about her reading a novel in Norwegian, since I lived there for a while. The essays also made me want to learn a new language again, and gave me some inspiration as to what method to use. Actually, the book also made me more interested in translation than I had been before, and made me see it in a different light. I took a course on translation during by Bachelor’s degree, and did not like it in the slightest. But the way Davis looks at translation as a puzzle to solve, and a way to improve your own writing, made it sound so appealing. In any case, I will be reading more of Davis’s fiction and also her first collection of essays next year!

I love Lydia Davis, and will always read whatever she writes. Sometimes essay's read a bit dry and/or boring to me, but these were enjoyable.

Requested this at the recommendation of a bookish friend. This was very much NOT my cup of tea. Did not finish.

As a longtime fan of Lydia Davis’s fiction, I was very excited to read this second essay collection as I’d missed the first one. Davis delves into her literary passions, most notably, her work as a translator, something I was unaware of. She talks about her methodology when it comes to translation, how it is achieved by working in partnership on the page with the original author. She talks in depth about her times in Arles, France as well as the acquisition of various languages. Davis is a literary gem and I delighted in all of this insight into her passion for and approach to translation, which I certainly have a newfound respect for! Thank you so Farrar Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for the advanced review copy.

Davis' writing style and themes tackled in her prose are definitely my cup of tea, which makes this essay collection a pleasure to read.

The one where she goes very deep into Proust's prose rhythms is worth the price of the book all by itself.

This was a wonderful follow-up to 2019’s Essays One. I knew that Davis was translator — it was her beautiful story “The Walk” that inspired me to read Proust — but I didn’t grasp just how much of her life she has dedicated to translation. While Essays One had some pieces sharing her process in writing fiction, it was also very outward-focused, with much of the content being critical essays about visual artists and writers. Essays Two, in contrast, is extremely process-focused and highly technical; if Stephen King’s On Writing is a “memoir of the craft,” then Essays Two is a memoir of the science of the written word. Davis emphasizes repeatedly that translation isn’t exact, that there is no such thing as a perfect translation, but she also demonstrates that arriving at a satisfactory solution, of which there may be several, is extremely difficult.

In some cases, translating just a single word requires knowledge of the word’s plain meaning and potential synonyms, of its etymology, and of life in 19th century France. The most striking case of this is the translation of the word boule, the title problem from the essay “Loaf or Hot-Water Bottle.” One would imagine that from context it would be simple to tell which meaning the author intended, but Davis outlines in great detail just how tricky a problem this is, before revealing and justifying her choice of hot-water bottle.

There are glimpses of Davis’s gentle humor throughout. In one instance, after considering that an alternative translation may be better than the on she settled on, she remarks:

“Then again, maybe not. (If I were to write a memoir about being a translator, I might title it: Then Again, Maybe Not. Or, then again, maybe not…)”

However, given the subject matter, Essays Two is bit dry, although this is certainly a deliberate choice and I don’t think the collection suffers from it. If one were looking to read for entertainment, I’d steer them towards The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis, as Essays Two is indisputably on the informative end of the spectrum.

On the whole, I really loved this book. Davis is perhaps my favorite author, and I’m very grateful that she has shared so much about her methods for translation and language acquisition.


Thank you to FSG and NetGalley for the advanced copy!

If you have read Lydia Davis's nonfiction before then you're familiar with her writing style and cadence. She is a wonderful writer and I think, at this point, I'd request to read her grocery list. This is another excellent collection of essays on topics that are fascinating. I especially recommend it if you have an interest in translated fiction. Lydia Davis translated Madame Bovary and I am partial that edition. Always a pleasure to read.