Award-winning translator Jo Heinrich reflects on her career progression since the publication of her first book-length translation.
Back in early 2022, I wrote an article for New Books in German about being a newbie translator and the experience of translating my first book, Marzahn, Mon Amour by Katja Oskamp. At the end I spoke of my hopes to do more and mentioned that emerging translators can sometimes fall by the wayside after their first book. I’m really fortunate that this wasn’t the case for me, although there were times when I thought I’d never get literary translation work again. So what happened next?
Marzahn, Mon Amour had a fabulous reception, but while I basked in its glory, I was grubbing around trying to find more literary work. I remember preparing plenty of sample translations and writing to the few publishers who accepted pitches, often never to receive a response. I did get some work doing sample translations for some German publishers, and I lived in hope of finding the Next Big Thing, but it never seemed to happen. After months of this, I did reach a low point where I thought that maybe I’d just had my moment and that I should just go back to commercial translation.
But I have Marzahn’s editor, Gesche Ipsen, to thank for my next break: she recommended me to Profile Books, and she must have said some wonderful things, as they didn’t even ask for a sample. They asked if I’d like to translate some non-fiction – Hanno Sauer’s Moral: Die Erfindung von Gut und Böse (The Invention of Good and Evil). It’s a vast, sweeping history of morality from the dawn of man through to the present day. It taught me a lot about tenacity and discipline, being well over three times the length of Marzahn, and about organisation: I had to maintain a bibliography that ran to several pages. I loved the challenge of finding translations of all the quotations Hanno had used, and he illustrates his points with some fascinating examples.
And then, while I was working on that, the unthinkable happened: Katja Oskamp and I heard that Marzahn had won the 2023 Dublin Literary Award. We had a month to prepare for the trip and it was almost impossible to keep it under wraps. With just the one book under my belt at that point, I couldn’t help feeling bad for all the other long-standing translators who have worked on some exceptional books and never come close to anything so amazing. It led to some imposter syndrome that still rears its ugly head every so often (I’ve come round to thinking it’s sometimes useful, as it keeps me humble and makes me try harder). Those few days in Dublin were remarkable, though: it was a little taste of what it must be like to be famous. It was a crazy whirlwind of book signings and events; people wanted selfies with us and they stopped us in the street to congratulate us.
It’s hard to tell how much of a difference winning the award has made in the long term; I do find more people recognise me at the London Book Fair these days. Other than that, the one thing I have noticed is that when I pitch to publishers now, even though the outcome might still be the same, they are more likely to reply with some feedback, which is a step in the right direction!
After Marzahn’s success, it was natural for Peirene Press to want to publish more of Katja’s work, and so I set to work on Halbschwimmer (Half Swimmer) which would go on to be published in September 2024. It was a joy to step back into Katja’s voice again; her style has a great warmth and the pleasure she gets from writing simply shines through.
Other opportunities were also gradually slotting into place. Someone from Ithaka Press had contacted New Books in German asking if they knew anyone who might be able to do a reader’s report – thank you Sarah! – and this led to me doing several reports on German books they had come across. I wrote a particularly glowing one on a fascinating non-fiction book about how peace negotiations can come into being, what can go wrong with them, how to ensure lasting peace in troubled areas, and what we can do to make the world a more peaceful place, with some really pertinent and timely comments on both Ukraine and Gaza. They asked me if I wanted to translate it, and the resulting How Wars End by Jan van Aken was published in April – I’m honoured to have been part of the process.
Meanwhile, I noticed that Matthias Jügler had a new book coming out: Maifliegenzeit. I had translated a sample of his previous novel Die Verlassenen (The Forsaken) and had sent it to several publishers, with no success. But when I read Maifliegenzeit, I was bowled over by it; it was the sort of book I wanted to tell all my friends about – but of course in this instance, I would have to translate it first and then tell them about it. I pitched it to everyone I could think of, and I couldn’t help feeling it would be perfect for Susie Nicklin at The Indigo Press (this time, thanks are due to Charlotte Collins for the contact, as she’d asked around for people willing to do reader’s reports for Susie). Luckily Susie felt the same about Maifliegenzeit, and I’m really excited that Mayfly Season will be coming out next year. It’s been just wonderful to work on and the story behind it is mind-blowing.
At around the same time as all this was going on, I was contacted out of the blue by Pan Macmillan; here the person I need to thank for the recommendation is Ruth Ahmedzai Kemp. I was asked to be part of a team working on Angela Merkel’s memoirs, Freiheit/Freedom. It would be a very quick turnaround: three tranches of the 720-page book over the summer of 2024 shared between us, with three weeks to translate each section. The timescale was tight as the memoirs had to be published worldwide on the same day. I wasn’t sure I could fit it in, but some stern words from my husband convinced me I couldn’t let a chance of something as high-profile as this pass me by. I ended up working with some big names in German translation: Ruth Martin, Simon Pare, Lucy Jones, Jamie Lee Searle, Sharon Howe, Alice Tetley-Paul and Shaun Whiteside (who was the lead translator, with the unenviable task of editing all our work to give the book the same voice throughout). The publishers set up a glossary, a Google Chat and, best of all, weekly Zoom meetings for us to discuss our progress and any problems we had (and for the publishers to ask if we had ‘anything juicy’ yet!). My imposter syndrome loomed large, but in fact it was a great experience: for us solitary translators it was wonderful to have a regular get-together and to find out that we all had issues with terminology or difficult turns of phrases to grapple with, and it was a tremendously supportive and collaborative environment, as well as a chance to simply chat – we had a lot of fun. When six of us met up in London for Merkel’s book launch event at the Southbank Centre, it felt like a reunion of old friends.
…it was a great experience: for us solitary translators it was wonderful to have a regular get-together and to find out that we all had issues with terminology or difficult turns of phrases to grapple with, and it was a tremendously supportive and collaborative environment, as well as a chance to simply chat – we had a lot of fun.
All in all, I had a really busy 2024, and towards the end I realised I hadn’t had the time to work on getting anything else lined up as the next job – another learning curve. I had done a couple of samples for German publishers and was hoping someone might pick up on them, but as yet it hasn’t happened. I’m reading some books now and preparing a sample and a pitch as a result of a chat at the recent London Book Fair. But even after all the lucky breaks I’ve had, there are still so few publishers I can contact, and so few who will accept pitches. Of course, freelancers will always have peaks and troughs. Right now, I’m not complaining and the trough has come at a good time: my daughter’s off to university soon and we’ve spent plenty of time bonding on trips to open days all over the UK. And I still do some commercial translation. But I’m quietly hopeful that some more literary work will make itself known at some point soon.
You may have noticed here that for every break I’ve had, another translator (or New Books in German!) was instrumental in it. I think it helps to attend as many literary translation events as you can, from summer schools to workshops and even book clubs and launches, to get your name out there and build connections…
You may have noticed here that for every break I’ve had, another translator (or New Books in German!) was instrumental in it. I think it helps to attend as many literary translation events as you can, from summer schools to workshops and even book clubs and launches, to get your name out there and build connections; I was really lucky that Marzahn came early in my career so other translators knew of me. As time goes on, it becomes clearer and clearer that we’re a really helpful, lovely, supportive bunch! It always amazes me that although there isn’t really enough work out there to keep every literary translator into English busy full-time, the translation community is still so generous in helping the next generation to take that first dip into the water. It’s a wonderful thing, and I try to do my bit with this too.
When I wrote that first article for New Books In German back in 2022, my last line was ‘Who knows what the future holds?’ And oddly, things aren’t that different right now: who knows, indeed?
Jo Heinrich photo © Anna Heinrich
Katja Oskamp and Jo Heinrich photo © Chris Fennell
Jo Heinrich graduated in 2018 with a distinction in her MA in Translation from the University of Bristol. She was shortlisted for the 2020 Austrian Cultural Forum London Translation Prize and the 2019 John Dryden Translation Competition. She translates from French and German, and she lives just outside Bristol with her family.
