The Emerging Literary Translator Mentorships programme nurtures successive cohorts of literary translators into English, with a focus on languages whose literature remains underrepresented in translation.

Meet our talented 2025 graduates—fresh from six months of mentorship—who will introduce and share readings from their translation projects:

• Imane Amraoui (Mentee: Arabic, mentored by Sawad Hussain)
• Jilly Bong (Mentee: Chinese, mentored by Jeremy Tiang)
• Brad Harmon (Mentee: Faroese, mentored by Marita Thomsen)
• Ecre Karadag (Mentee: Japanese, mentored by Polly Barton)
• Kasia Laganowska (Mentee: Polish, mentored by Annie Rutherford)
• Asher Maria (Mentee: Lithuanian, mentored by Kotryna Garanasvili)
• Fiona Spencer-Piacentini (Mentee: Italian, mentored by Elena Pala)
• Sarah K. H. Yoo (Mentee: Korean, mentored by Clare Richards)
• Monika Zaleska (Mentee: Polish, mentored by Sean Gasper Bye)

Read more about the translators here.

Watch the showcase below

Rebecca

Welcome to this year’s Emerging Translator Mentorships Showcase, celebrating the great work of our 2025 mentees and mentors, and giving you, our digital audience, a glimpse of who our emerging translators are and what they have been working on since October 2024. My name is Rebecca DeWald and I am the Emerging Translator Mentorships Programme Manager at the National Centre for Writing. Established in 2010 by Daniel Hahn, the Emerging Translator Mentorships programme is now in its 15^th year. Its aim is to develop successive new cohorts of literary translators into English, particularly for languages whose literature is currently under-represented in English translation. The scheme matches up experienced translators with emerging literary translators for a six-month period during which they work together on practical translation projects, developing their craft through working on a chosen text or texts. Mentees receive a bursary and their mentorship also includes two Industry Weekends, especially tailored to the needs of emerging translators, as well as a visit to the London Book Fair and attendance of the Assembly of Literary Translators in London. Since its inception, the Programme has supported 140 mentees, working in 37 languages. From first mentees Vineet Lal and Anna Holmwood, to mentees-turned-mentors Elena Pala, Clare Richards, Kotryna Garanasvili and Sean Gasper Bye – to name but a few in a select list of translators’ names.

This year’s programme would not have been possible without the enthusiasm of Vicki Maitland and Annie Rutherford, who coordinated the mentorship until my return from maternity leave, so a huge thank you to both of you for your dedication to and passion for the programme. The mentorships also would not exist without the commitment of our mentors, and the support from our partners. We are immensely grateful to the myriad of funders who have made the programme possible for the past decade. We would like to thank our mentors and funders this year: Thanks to Arts Council England. To Sawad Hussain, for mentoring Imane Amraoui, with funding from the Sheikh Zayed Book Award. Thanks to Jeremy Tiang, who has been working with Jilly Bong, funded by the National Arts Council Singapore. To our Faroese mentor Marita Thomsen, who has been working with Brad Harmon as part of the FarLit mentorship. To Elean Pala, who has been mentoring Fiona Spencer-Piacentini, with support from the Instituto italiano di cultura. Polly Barton, for mentoring Ecre Karadag supported by the Yanai Initiative. Clare Richards, for mentoring Sarah K.H. Yoo, supported by LTI Korea. Thanks to Sean Gasper Bye for mentoring Monika Zaleska, with support from the Polish Cultural Institute in London. Thanks to Kotryna Garanasvili for acting as Lithuanian mentor to Asher Maria, funded by the Lithuanian Culture Institute. And to Annie Rutheford, who was working with Polish mentee Kasia Laganowska as port of our mentorship for a chronically ill translator.

The introductions and readings were recorded in advance. If you are joining us live for our premiere, you can participate in the live chat on the right side of this page – our emerging translators are in the audience and will be joining in the conversation via chat. The translators will be reading short extracts from their mentorship projects – foreign rights to their translations are all still available. If you would like to read a longer extract, we will be including a link to the eBook version of this year’s anthology at the end of this video and in the shownotes. If you are interested in contacting the translators directly, you will find their contact details in the anthology itself. Alternatively, feel free to get in touch with us at NCW via [email protected]. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy the following showcase presenting you the finest work by new literary translation talents working today.

Imane

Hi, I’m Imane Amraoui. I’m a literary translator from morocco, I translate between Arabic and English, mentored by Sawad Hussein, with a Master’s in Translation and a background in English linguistics. My focus is on social and psychological literature— I’m drawn to stories that explore how characters’ thoughts evolve and how society influences their psychology and decisions. And also have a keen interest in non-fiction as well particularly personal development books. For this program, I’ve been working on The Twin by Fatiha Morchid. It’s a novel that explores self-perception and emotional duality, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. My excerpt captures a moment of deep psychological introspection, where the protagonist wrestles with the shifting boundaries of their own identity. Let me share a short passage with you:

“There is a place inside me, deep within. No one can reach it. A fortified sanctuary, I retreat there whenever life waged war against me and wrapped me with the void of lonely nights. A refuge as comforting as my mother’s embrace, a piece of heaven graced with beauty and unconditional love to myself. A carved shelter among deep scars where I feel safe and free…I rearrange the drafts of my life, refining them, erasing chapters and adding new ones as my mood shifts…I discovered this place in the midst of my slide into insanity, no different from a jumper’s life being spared by slamming into a car parked on the pavement below. That was the last door opened before Hell’s gate. Since then, I’ve kept it closed, guarded by my eyelashes. Because these kind of places are meant only for oneself. Anyone of us has that sanctuary within that can be reached, a person may find it through meditation and psychological practice, while others might stumble upon it by chance, in the depths of hell.” “What you are saying, sounds too good to be true. I wish I could find my sanctuary as well.” Murad admitted. “I believe you are on your way there already. Coming to this cave of mine is an important step to learn the value of silence, to practice isolation, and to distance yourself from the noise of things and people. Chatters empty us of our souls, and the crowd drains our energy.”

Jilly

Part 1.

Hi, I’m Jilly Bong, I translate between English and Chinese languages. Currently, I’m based in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I’ve switched roles from writer, editor to translator. For the last four years, I have translated web novels in a range of genres, including romance and fantasy. I’m passionate about exploring underrepresented voices, historical fiction, and more. My chosen book is Tales of Hulan River, the last and most acclaimed work by Xiao Hong. She was one of the most talented female writers of 1930s-40s China. This masterpiece was completed before her death at 30 years old.

The great shaman drummed loudly, commanding the child bride to strip naked before the gathered crowd. She vehemently refused, but the mother-in-law hugged her tight and enlisted several people to carry out the order; together they encircled her and tore her clothes into shreds. Though just twelve, her tall, mature frame made her appear closer to sixteen. All the women present, be it young and old, were embarrassed with their own figures when the girl’s bare body was in full revelation. Quickly, they submerged the girl into the colossal clay barrel, which was filled with hot water. The barrel was gigantic in size, with only her head popped out. Trapped, she screamed in terror, clawing at the air and yelling at the top of her lungs for help to escape the torment. Stationed on the side, several people tasked themselves with stirring the water and spilling it onto her head. In no time, her cheeks blushed fervently, and she could struggle no more. She stood calmly, her struggle fading as she accepted the grim reality that it was impossible to make it out alive. I watched her for a while. She stood still, didn’t move a muscle, neither sobbing nor smiling. Her face, drenched in sweat, was as red as the xuan paper. The crowd which was enjoying the spectacle initially, now shouted wildly. Everyone rushed up to rescue the girl, believing she had met her end. Some with a kind heart became teary for the twisted fate befalling the girl. When the girl was alive, she fought desperately for her life, practically begging for everyone to save her, yet none were willing to step in and set her free. The darkness had consumed her, and she had quit asking for help; ironically, only now some tried to help her.

Brad

Hello. My name is Brad Harmon. I’m originally from the United States, but I’m currently living in Berlin. I translate primarily from Swedish and Germany but additionally from Norwegian, Danish and Faroese. For the most part I’ve spent a lot of time working with poetry and so I’m interested in texts that are linguistically experimental or playful, as well as texts that are explicitly philosophical or politically engaged. Part of my time as an Emerging Translator Mentee in Faroese, mentored by Marita Thomsen, has been to work on this massive, 450-page novel by Jens Pauli Heinesen titled “Frænir eitur ormurin.” The title translates literally to “The Dragon is Named Fafnir” and it is a reference to the medical Germanic myth of Fafnir the dragon and Sigurd or Siegfried the dragon-slayer. First published in 1973, the novel is one of the most ambitious ever written in Faroese. It is an epic novel of ideas that engages the whole gamut of political questions, ranging from communism and totalitarianism. Heinesen shows that small island nations are just as vulnerable to political violence and ideological extremism as larger countries. Set in a dystopian Faroe Islands that have been taken over by a fascist organization, we follow the protagonist Gudmundur as he navigates the political arena. We also get a love story when he falls in love with the dictator’s daughter, only to end up choosing his political values instead, and an injection of intrigue because Gudmundur is also trying to figure out why his father was assassinated before he was born. I will now read the first two paragraphs of the first chapter, which is titled “The Moment of Truth.”

“Winter morning, still and cold. A thin layer of snow rests on the stony landscape of Kirkjubøur up against the village wall of Argir. I hardly slept last night, instead lying awake listening to the sounds and was surprised that there were so many of them. The cranes on the western pier groaned and creaked all night long but faded away as the daylight arrived. Ships came and went, moored trawlers bobbed whisperingly in the harbors until they set out to fish in the twilight, and Gabriel paced around up in the attic, maundering and mumbling, as he usually does. And although I understand why, it surprises me that the cranes continue to operate, that ships enter and leave the harbor, that men go out to fish, as if nothing has happened. They have burned my books. A few days ago I was banned from writing, but never before in my life have I written as much as I have in these last few days. Adults are nothing but children in grown-up bodies, Geirmundur has written somewhere. God knows how our pale prophet is doing at this moment, now that they have deprived us of our language.”

Fiona

My name is Fiona Spencer-Piacentini. I am a bilingual translator based in Edinburgh, working primarily between Italian and English and occasionally from German. I am mostly drawn to contemporary literary fiction. However, over the course of my mentorship I have concentrated on works of historical fiction set in World War I and Resistance Stories from World War II both largely in the North-East of Italy. I am a theoretical linguist by training which informs both my analytical approach to translation as well as my interest in exploring multilingualism in a text, whether that be between Italian and German when translating into English, or Italian and a regional language such as lingua veneta. In the following excerpt I will be reading from Paolo Malaguti’s Sul Grappa dopo la vittoria in which we follow the perspective of a ten-year old boy as he describes navigating the treacherous terrain after the brutal Italian front. He is compelled to climb Monte Grappa in this state, in the search for left over rations and useful materials from these mountainous battlegrounds. Spring 1919. The deal was I had to climb Monte Grappa at daw. And collect everything that I found there. The risk was very high, and it wasn’t only from unexploded bombs, from unguarded petrol tanks, from kilometres of abandoned wire fences, from the chasms that were suddenly open in the land that was scarred and martyred from months of incessant bombardment. Once you know how to recognise the smell of an explosive and you recognise the paths and the mule tracks marked out by the Engineer Corps, the mountain lets you explore easily. The problem was rather the Carabineri, who were staking out the entire Massif, forbidding access to anyone. And they weren’t worried about who the shadow that wandered between the lacerated tree trunks belonged to, they would shoot and that was that. There were already too many dead soldiers to apply the Decreto Regio without any rigour, for many were done in by lone base jackals rendered famished by the Spanish Flu and the cold, aware that they would either manage to bring something home, or they would bite the dust, leaving the family to a brief and desperate existence.

Ecre

Hello, I’m Ecre Karadag, and I’m a Japanese to English literary translator. I’m interested in middle-grade and young adult fiction in translation—contemporary all the way to high fantasy and sci-fi. And especially books that have a really strong voice. The book I’m going to read from today is Kotori Sudo’s「ゴリラ裁判の日』which I’ve translated as ‘Queen Kong’s Day in Court’. This book is about Rose, a gorilla in a sanctuary in Cameroon who acquires human language and then moves to the United States to be in a zoo in Cincinnati. She falls in love with a dreamy gorilla boyfriend (slay) who unfortunately gets SHOT when a boy falls into his enclosure, because he is, in fact, Harambe. So she takes the zoo to the U.S. Supreme Court. The first time, she does lose—and then she joins the WWE. This excerpt is from the middle of the book, right as Rose first comes into the American zoo.

I had decided to stay strong and all, but reality kicked in pretty quickly. Clifton Zoo’s quarantine room was as cramped as ever and smelled nothing like the jungle. No matter how long I sat in it, I couldn’t get used to it. The fruit they gave me tasted nothing like the good stuff back home. It was only the first week and the stress was building up. And going straight to my stomach. They gave me a bunch of toys to keep me from getting bored, but my favourite way to kill time was watching TV. I binge-watched old shows and movies. Sam pointed me to King Kong and Planet of the Apes, saying, “You’ve gotta watch them, Rose. People are gonna want your takes.” There were lots of sequels and remakes. “Nah, stick with the originals,” Sam advised sagely. “The rest is just filler.”I followed his advice and only watched the first movies in each series. They were quite something. The other movies Sam recommended were awful. Congo had a gorilla that used sign language like me, which was nice—but then it became a story about fighting murderous gorillas. Gorillas in the Mist was the worst movie I’d ever seen. The ending was horrific, and I hated Sam for telling me to watch it. The quarantine was basically the first true trial of my life. The wait felt like an eternity. And it wasn’t just me—the world was waiting, too. My arrival at Clifton Zoo was already being reported in the news, and there were constant calls for a press conference. But Director Hopkins turned them all down. He understood how stressed I was and didn’t think it was right to put me in front of the eyes of the media like that. Of course, if he hadn’t cared about my health, he probably would’ve pushed me into the spotlight straight away to promote the zoo. It wasn’t just the boredom—he knew I was craving human contact. So in the second week of quarantine, celebrities started to visit.

Sarah

My name is Sarah K. H. Yoo, and I’m a literary translator working between Korean and English. I’m interested in stories that ask the question, “How did we get here?”, stories that explore what it means to be flawed and messy and human in this complicated yet beautiful world. The following sample is from the short story “The Great Pacific Dead Body Patch” by the Korean author Choi Jeong-Hwa, from her 2022 genre-bending collection The Weather Controllers. Choi Jeong-Hwa is an award-winning writer and climate activist who crafts tales and characters from which it’s impossible to look away—both because they’re so engrossing, and because of her characteristic dark humor. “The Great Pacific Dead Body Patch” imagines a world in which the Great Pacific Garbage Patch is full not of human trash but the humans themselves, for unchecked capitalism and indiscriminate overconsumption have resulted in ‘bllers’—disposable robots that aid people with day-to-day tasks—murdering people and assuming their identities. Mimi, our beleaguered but intrepid narrator, struggles to cope with tragedy as she goes on her own journey of self-discovery. Mimi sidled up to Iku, who was waiting in front of the elevator, and his face went ashen. She figured he suspected she might not be human, in which case the last thing he’d want would be to share a cramped elevator with her. Mimi felt the exact same way. Nothing could be worse than getting stuck leaving the office with a bunch of her coworkers, walking to the bus stop with them as they chatted and complained and gossiped, all the while not knowing if one or all of them were human or bller. That was why it was so vital that she make it out of the building now, with Iku. All she had to do was convince her boss that she was human. Where on earth to start? Neither the fact that she’d been at the company for a full decade now, nor that her skin was raw from picking at her hangnails whenever she had to enter his office, nor that she always drank a cinnamon caramel macchiato at 2:00 in the afternoon, nor that she needed a can of beer to help her fall asleep at night, could prove that Mimi was human. When the elevator arrived, Iku claimed to have left his wallet in his office and told Mimi to go on ahead without him. She said she would hold the elevator for him—she had a work matter she was hoping they could discuss anyway. “There’s always tomorrow,” he stammered awkwardly. “Let’s talk tomorrow, yeah? You have a good night, now.” Mimi watched as he sprinted toward the emergency stairwell. He definitely thought she was a bller.

Ash

My name is Ash Maria and I’m a translator and Comparative Literature PhD student based in Philadelphia. My dissertation looks at Eastern European and Russian migrant literature in Brazil, and the primary languages I work in as a translator are Lithuanian, Portuguese, and Russian. Last year, my collaborative translations of Russophone Ukrainian poet Kateryna Derysheva were featured in Asymptote and the Academy of American Poets Poet-a-Day series. I’m hoping to translate more poetry, but also to leverage my scholarly background to help bring forgotten classics from Eastern Europe and Brazil to anglophone readers.The NCW fellowship has generously provided me an opportunity to begin work on one such project, and I’m thrilled to read for you all a sample from a beloved work of Lithuanian literature: Ignas Šeinius’ 1913 novel “The Hunchback” or “Kuprelis.” He wrote it in his mid twenties, and as an unlikely peer a century later, I found it remarkably mature in its ability to alchemize the pains of nostalgia, alienation, and moral yearning into an ever urgent kindling for the soul.I will now read the first page: I’m starting to think that today’s going to be my day.

Again I write. I write, and I think. And I soar in this wide world of unseen images. The blue fogs of spring have swallowed up the world today, along with every field in sight, green meadow, and cool forest. The silent forests rest there at ease. Only the sound of grass and grain growing fills the air. The thought sparkles and flashes only to disappear, again. I’m unable to grasp it. A calm is weighing on me. I hear hurried steps just beyond the door. Someone’s coming. Let them. Father enters. He stops and smiles. “Ignas, do you know what I’m about to ask you?” “I’m feeling a bit useless today, but let’s hear it.” “First, make me a promise.” “No, I’m too afraid.” “None of that. It’s just a small task.” What could he have in mind? “Well, if that’s the case.” “Great!” he put his hand on my shoulder. “Head to the mill in my stead. I’d go myself, but I’m needed at the fair later, we’re selling old Gray.”  Before he turned to leave, father lingered at the doorstep. “By no means can the little hunchback at the mill do all that work alone,” he said. My face clouded after hearing this. “This is what the hunchback said, as soon as you see the wings spinning, have him hurry over,” continued father. I glanced through the window. The wings were already spinning: the hunchback must’ve begun. “Just my luck,” I think to myself. “Spending today of all days covered in flour!”

Kasia

My name is Kasia Laganowska. I’m bilingual, bicultural and binational. I translate prose and verse between English and Polish. I’d like to read a short poem written by Polish poet Krzysztof Kamil Baczyński in September 1940 and my translation of it. ‘Wiatr.’  Jak wtedy jest nas wszędzie troje ja i ty, ja i ty, a za oknem wiatr uchodzi pękniętym obojem narasta zmęczony krzyk. Unoszą się drzewa i czarne ptaki, o szyby biją liście czerwieńsze niż jesień. Wydęte uciekają dni i obłoki spłoszone jak ryby w ten nasz bolesny, pierwszy wrzesień. Nie odchodź, to motyle pluszowe tak dzwonią

o te szyby umarłe, o martwy wiatr. Chodzi za oknem upiór zabitego konia i kaleki, o kulach nienawiści świat. To powietrze od trwogi wezbrane uderza, przebacz mi świat i życie

i ten wiatr mi przebacz. Lecą gwiazdy – jaskółki prawdziwego nieba rozsypują nam śmierć na pokoje, umierają chwile nieostrożnych lat bo jak wtedy jest nas wszędzie troje ja i ty, ja i ty i wiatr.

‘The wind.’ Just like then everywhere we’re in threes you and I, you and I and the wind passes outside in split dualities greater grows the tired cry. The trees and ebony birds ascend, against the windows leaves thrash redder than autumnal splendour. The distended days dart away and with them white clouds like startled minnows in this, our painful, first September. Don’t leave me, it’s just the plush butterflies ringing against the glass panes and against a wind dead. Outside, past the window, a spectre of slain gelding and, on crutches of hatred, a crippled world tread. This trepidation-suffused air-front, it strikes deadly. Forgive me the world and life and for this wind forgive me. As the stars – truly heavenly swallows – fly above they shower down death all over our peace and each moment of those careless years rescind, as just like then everywhere we’re in threes you and I, you and I and the wind.

Monika

Hello and thanks for watching! I’m Monika Zaleska and I’m a translator from Polish. I work on feminist prose and poetry, both new works and overlooked classics. The sample I am reading from today is Zofia Nałkowska’s 1906 novel Women, last translated in the 1920s. My hope is to give this early feminist work renewed attention with a fresh, contemporary translation. This is a passage on bookish female friendship and gender roles at the turn of the century. Janusz has left for L. for a few days. It’s just Marta and I and we have it awfully good. She’s the one being under the sun that can share my delight in reading intelligent and beautiful things. She understands and experiences everything just as I do. Reading together, we amaze each other with the depth and subtlety of our insights. We enter a pleasurable state of mind where we stop sensing one another as individual beings. We pick up on sensations at the same time, with the same immediacy: all we need is a look, a gesture, to understand one another. We become wholly the same, one and the same. We are severed from everything surrounding us—we communicate somewhere on high and come together to meet on soaring bridges that link our two souls over an abyss and that hardly anyone can cross, as these bridges are made of knots of lace. At the foothills of the soul, people come together easily, but towards the peaks they grow farther and farther apart—and the gulf between them grows deeper and deeper. And these delicate bridges, cast from peak to peak, crumble and collapse under any heavier, brutish footstep…Malgré tout, I am smart, young and pretty—so I want to live. Nietzsche says that when it comes to women, don’t forget the whip. Amiel—that woman should stick with her kind and have her own distinct gender ethics. Garborg—that she should go everywhere with a governess, so that her future husband has no cause for suspicion. But despite all this, I still want to be a woman.

Rebecca Outro

I hope you enjoyed our showcase and that the short extracts our wonderful translators have read are making you yearn for more. Lucky for you, you have to look no further than the NCW website, where you can read longer versions in this year’s digital anthology at the link on the following slide. If you would prefer a physical copy of the anthology, you can also register your interest on our website to have it posted to you. If you are interested in any or all of our translation activities and programmes at NCW, please go to our website at www.nationalcentreforwriting.org.uk/get-involved/translators/.Applications for the 2025/26 programme will open in August 2025. Thank you very much for watching. Goodbye.

The Emerging Translator Mentorships Programme is supported by Arts Council England, the Sheikh Zayed Book Award, the Italian Cultural Institute, the Yanai Initiative for Globalizing Japanese Humanities at UCLA and Waseda University, the Literary Translation Institute of Korea, the Polish Cultural Institute, the National Arts Council Singapore, FarLit, Lithuanian Culture Institute and the Society of Authors.