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Between Two Languages: In Conversation with Francesca Favaro

Francesca Favaro

Francesca Favaro is the author of the short story collection La lettrice, published in a self-contained parallel English edition, translated by Licia Canton and titled The Reader (Aristodemica 2025). The dual-language text allows bilingual readers not only to appreciate the individual stories in both languages, but also to grasp the nuances and translation choices that shape the text. Even more interestingly, the side-by-side format of the two texts makes the transition from one language very fluid, like a game of mirrors, which enriches the understanding of each story. The stories can be read in any order, each one covering a variety of themes, and creating a world unto itself, the only common thread being the setting of Renaissance Italy. This is conveyed not only through the detailed descriptions, but also in the dialogues, which recreate a courtly style immersed in classical culture – in both Italian and English. Recently, I had the pleasure of chatting with Francesca Favaro about her collection and its transposition into English. Our conversation is transcribed below, with minor edits for clarity.



Where did you draw your inspiration to write
La Lettrice, Racconti?

The book consists of short stories of varying lengths and scope, featuring a wide range of characters. Some are human, others are creatures from the natural world (a cat, a tree, a cloud…). However, the source of inspiration is the same: usually an image, perhaps caught in a glimpse and stored in my memory. For example, the story Il ciliegio (The Cherry Tree) describes the tree I admired as a child in the garden next door. The story La Ferita (The Wound) was inspired by contemplating a damaged fresco in a small convent I visited. Other stories were inspired by “literary memories.” For example, Nefelomantica (Nephelomancy) is a fantasy in which ancient myths are revisited from a Baudelairean perspective. Improvvisazioni (Improvisation) references the unforgettable character, Hanno Buddenbrook, by Thomas Mann.

The first story, The Reader, presents the theme of reading and the figure of the reader, exploring the idea of how education and culture can elevate and transform a person. Erika, the main character, demolishes the stereotype of the ignorant woman and, thanks to reading, undergoes a true metamorphosis. Her description as fantesca, rendered in English as “ironing girl” and later “maid,” provides a clear evolution of her role – from humble girl to skilled domestic servant. Her accent, described as da osteria in mezzo ai campi (literally, from a tavern in the middle of the fields), is rendered as “horrible,” an effective translation that emphasizes her rural origins. The description of the red velvet armchair with its rigid backrest, reflecting the strict refinement to which Erika is subjected, is perfectly preserved in the translation, as is the cycle of the seasons that accompanies her transformation.

What was the inspiration behind this first story?

The setting is what first took shape in my mind: a sort of court dominated by a haughty and aloof gentleman, Grand Duke Karl, who is in love with literature, and within whose rigid protocol a female presence (or rather, a female voice) is suddenly introduced. Erika is the embodiment and interpreter of the extraordinary power of literature and knowledge – a power capable of overcoming the boundaries between class and wealth. In The Cherry Tree, the protagonist lives almost in symbiosis with the tree. The description is poetic, and there is a strong connection between the tree and the narrator. The cherry tree embodies growth, symbiosis and fertility. Its flowering and life cycle mark the stages of the protagonist’s life, suggesting how nature and the human body can resonate in harmony. The story offers an opportunity to examine how source and target texts communicate and exchange information. For example, the flowering of the cherry blossom is described as candida (candid) in the original, implying a touch of purity and delicateness that is not fully conveyed in the translation white flowers. Instead, the emphasis in English is simply on purity.

Is The Cherry Tree a metaphor you had in mind, or did it emerge while you were writing the story?

The Cherry Tree almost wrote itself, so to speak. When I started writing, I had a vague idea about how the story would unfold and how it would end. The narrative became clearer as I progressed. I remembered the cherry tree, covered with flowers in spring, which “kept me company” during my childhood. I think this image of the cherry tree, which is the main character of the story – at first beautiful but barren, and later laden with fruit – reflects my own desires and regrets for a motherhood I have never experienced.

What was your reaction when you saw your stories translated into English?

I felt very emotional, and at the same time I was very curious. Translation, as we know, is a very delicate undertaking, a kind of constant striving towards a correspondence that can never be fully achieved. I greatly appreciated not only the opportunity to discuss with Licia, who clarified various aspects of her work, but also being able to grasp the “imprint” of my stories for English-speaking or bilingual readers, (including my students), who were sometimes better able at explaining to me the reasons behind particular choices in the translation.

 


Reaching a bilingual audience is certainly exciting: What did you find was the most exciting aspect of the entire process?

When I write I always feel happy. I lose track of the passing of time. I am totally concentrated on and immersed in the page. It is also exciting to see the characters become clearer with each revision. It is equally emotional to rediscover characters if and when you return to a work after a long time, even though they were created by you. You rediscover nuances that you had forgotten and this makes them seem more alive.

If you could invite one of your characters to dinner, who would it be?

I would invite Grand Duke Karl and Erika together: nothing is as difficult as narrating the achievement of happiness. It is no coincidence that the story modestly ends with the decision to marry. It would be interesting to see them live, in every sense, as a couple. I would ask them to reveal which of the texts that Erika read to the Grand Duke had the greatest impact on them. But that’s another story … perhaps one to be written!

La Lettrice, Racconti is available here.


Maria Pia Spadafora, a native of Calabria, is a teacher, freelance translator, and creative writer currently based in Milan. She has translated numerous short stories and poems from English into Italian, featuring prominent Italian-Canadian authors such as Licia Canton, Delia De Santis, Darlene Madott, and Sonia Di Placido. Her diverse portfolio includes the Spanish-to-Italian translation of Laura Zamora’s 2020 Goya-nominated short film, El árbol de las almas perdidas. Her most recent work is a translation of Darlene Madott’s Dying Times. Maria Pia currently serves as the Vice-President of the Association of Italian-Canadian Writers (AICW).

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