![]() ![]() ![]() The center, or world, of the protagonist collides with that of the old woman who is frightened of him. In “Spiral,” a young man internalizes and eventually embodies the reactions of the people who fear him without reason. These various centers sometimes create moments of tension in the stories. I think each of us lives in the center of what we’ve been dealt and what we build for ourselves throughout our lives. If a large group of people live in a community, where they have relationships of affection, where they work and produce things-it’s hard to accept that this is the periphery, and that the center is far away. If the periphery is in motion, the center is wherever we determine is the most important place in our lives. ![]() I began to question the idea of centers and peripheries and think of them more in terms of movement than absolute truth. After participating in FLUP for the first time, I started moving around the city more and becoming aware of the many realities and possibilities it contained. Geovani Martins The entire book is driven by the desire to demystify the concept of the periphery as something static. How can we call a favela the periphery, when it’s the center of people’s lives?” In the stories collected in The Sun on My Head, action is centered on the characters-be it a single protagonist, like the narrator in “Lil Spin,” or several, like the group of friends in “The Mystery in the Vila.” Is this your way of defining and reinforcing this center? Julia Sanches You once said that “favelas have a certain autonomy… their dynamic revolves around them, where people live and work. Here in New England, it feels like spring will never arrive, while where Geovani lives in Vidigal, Rio de Janeiro-the favela he first moved to at age thirteen-summer is just winding down. When the call finally connects, though grainy and punctuated by bursts of static, Geovani appears in what looks like a white dashiki with multi-colored embroidery-red, blue, orange, and green threads. He sends me a WhatsApp-known to Brazilians as “zap”-to let me know he’ll be with me soon. The stories form a constellation of experiences that span the city of Rio de Janeiro, mostly occupying its favelas, also known in Portuguese as the periferia, or periphery-even though some of these periferias are a stone’s throw from the city center.įor the interview, I have asked Geovani to download Skype. The Sun on My Head is Martins’s first book. The closest I got to explaining this to him was to let him know that in rendering the slang and orality of his text I had generated many, many versions of the translation file for the collection, thirty-six in all. ![]() When I met Geovani Martins at FLIP, the Paraty International Literary Festival, in the summer of 2018, I felt as if I had been living in his head for the past three months while translating his story collection The Sun on My Head, as if I had taken the manuscript pages and worn them around like a spring dress, or a pair of mildly uncomfortable pajamas. There is an unnerving relationship between translators and the authors they translate-“their authors,” I wrote and deleted, a symptom of this semi-consensual and disquieting sense of possession. Nearly Any Two Things Can Cohereby Asiya Wadud.Harlem Is Hijaz Is Havana Is Harar, Or: The Whole Point of the Black Arts Movement Is That They Were Movingby Momtaza Mehriįrom Scorpionic Sunby Mohammed Khaïr-EddineĪn Hourglass Experiences Ego Deathby Kyung Me & Harry Gould Harvey IV Geovani Martins Issue #148by Julia SanchesĬounterpoint and Apocryphaby Raphael Rubinstein Arcana: A Stephen Jonas Readerby Ammiel AlcalayĬhavisa Woods’s 100 Times: A Memoir of Sexismby Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore.Demos’s Decolonizing Nature: Contemporary Art and the Politics of Ecologyby Nich Hance McElroy Bauhaus Journal 1926–1931by John Gendall. ![]()
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