Thursday, October 30, 2014 is the publication date for Rouge Paris, the French translation of Paris Red. Christian Bourgois is the publisher. Cécile Deniard translated.

I received copies the other day and I went through the same thing I always do. I opened the package and slipped out the books—and then I couldn’t think. I couldn’t open the book to look inside. I couldn’t even hold it. I had to set it down on a table for a little while and glance at it only in passing.

When I did pick up the book, I got shaky with joy.

When I was able to read some of Cécile Deniard’s beautiful translation, I fell in love. I love the first sentence of the book in French as much as I love it in English:

Ce jour-là j’ai dix-sept ans and je porte des bottines de putain.

Maybe it seems funny, but I just love the phrase “bottines de putain.” I love the sounds of the “b” and the “p.” My work has been translated before into German and Norwegian, but I since I don’t speak those languages, I could only marvel at the appearance of things. This time I can read the translation. I can experience it.

Here’s a bit of a scene:

Look for Victorine and me in Paris this Thursday. We’ll both be there in boots, at least in spirit.