Escape Goat: 46 Portuguese-language writers and 46 translators have united in a common project: a collective serial novel, resulting from numerous heads, more hands, and even more fingers… The Project Shortly after the Portuguese government announced a nationwide lockdown in mid-March, author Ana Margarida de Carvalho, a two-time winner of the Portuguese Writers’ Association’s Novel Award, issued a challenge to dozens of fellow writers to do something productive with this time. As she explained to the Lusa News Agency: “This project arose from the situation we find ourselves in, social isolation, and from our thinking: ‘If doctors and many others are doing their part, what can we – writers – do collectively, while being shut in at home?’” What De Carvalho proposed to her colleagues was a collective, serial novel, in which each writer would have 24 hours to read and respond to a previous chapter – a kind of literary Exquisite Corpse. The project quickly captured the imaginations of readers all over the Portuguese-speaking world, and authors began appearing on RTP, Portugal’s national state broadcaster, giving readings from their chapters. The Authors Chapter one was published on 21 March and written by Mário de Carvalho – not only Ana Margarida’s father, but also an acclaimed writer in his own right, whose novel A God Strolling in the Cool of the Evening was translated in 1994 by Gregory Rabassa, best-known for his translation of Gabriel García Márquez’s One Hundred Years of Solitude. Another of the project’s organisers, and a coordinator of the English version, is Gabriela Ruivo Trindade, whose debut novel, Uma Outra Voz [Another Voice], was awarded the LeYa Prize, for an unpublished manuscript, in 2013. Among the many award-winning authors taking part in this challenge, there are two who scooped major prizes in 2019: Afonso Reis Cabral, whose Pão de Açúcar was honoured with the José Saramago Prize for best work written by a young author, and Nara Vidal, a Brazilian author whose novel Sorte [Luck] was one of three winners of last year’s Oceanos Prize, bestowed upon the best works of literature written in the Portuguese language. Another author, Afonso Cruz has just released his first work in English, a children’s book called The Books that Devoured my Father, translated by Margaret Jull Costa and published by Dedalus Books, with his first novel for adults, Kokochka’s Doll, due to be published by MacLehose Press in Ángel Gurría-Quintana’s translation later this year. The list also includes other prominent Portuguese authors such as Inês Pedrosa, Rui Zink, Ana Luísa Amaral, Gonçalo M. Tavares, Ana Cristina Silva, Valério Romão, Patrícia Reis, Ana Bárbara Pedrosa, and many, many more. (Full list of authors) The series will end with a chapter by Luísa Costa Gomes, a former winner of the Camilo Castelo Branco Short Story Prize. The Translators Equally impressive is the list of Portuguese-to-English translators, assembled in a matter of weeks in response to a request by the organisers. Now numbering 46 members, the translation team includes established names like Margaret Jull Costa (translator of Portuguese Nobel Prize-winner José Saramago), Daniel Hahn and Frank Wynne (both winners of the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize) and Rahul Bery (former Translator in Residence at the British Library), as well as numerous young and emerging translators, academics, and specialists in Portuguese literature. While some translators may have found themselves with more time on their hands due to this strange new reality, for many others the work has not stopped coming in, and with children and partners now competing with literary texts for time and attention, the sacrifices being made in order to bring these chapters over into English, swiftly and competently, should not be overlooked. (Full list of translators and editors) The Name Once translators and editors for the English texts had been arranged, the next step was the tricky question of finding a suitable English translation for the Portuguese title, Bode Inspiratório, which is an inspired mangling of the Portuguese term for a ‘scape goat’, Bode Expiatório. The Portuguese title can be literally translated as ‘inspirational goat’, but it was felt that, lacking the wordplay present in the original, this phrase would mean almost nothing to an English readership. It was decided, therefore, that the English version of the project would be called Escape Goat, apparently a common malapropism of ‘scapegoat’. Although we were unable to salvage the idea of ‘inspiration’ present in the original, we hoped that our English goat might provide readers with some kind of escape from the tedium and aggravation of lockdown life. The Artists In addition to the texts, Escape Goat is also showcasing the work of 46 Portuguese visual artists. In an initiative proposed by Cristina Motta, an art lover and collector with a background in the trade fair business, each day a work of art will be paired with one of the chapters, not necessarily complementing or responding to the text, but offering a parallel comment on the lockdown in a different medium. (Full list of artists and gallery) Since beginning the task of bringing this remarkable project – described as an act of “common cultural resistance” by its creators – into English, the twists and turns of this continually progressing story have also started appearing in Spanish, French, Dutch and, most recently, Italian. At a time when politicians on both sides of the Atlantic have been desperately looking for ways to pass the buck for their own mistakes and miscalculations, we need fewer scapegoats and more escape goats! Victor Meadowcroft, translator and joint coordinator of Escape Goat A new chapter of Escape Goat will be published every day at 3pm (GMT) until the end of the series. Keep scrolling to read the firs chapter, ‘Sparks Flying’, by Mário de Carvalho (tr. Daniel Hahn), originally released Monday, 13 April, and reproduced with permission from author and translator. CHAPTER 1 – Sparks Flying Mário de Carvalho (tr. Daniel Hahn) “You can call me Ricardo. Or Professor, if you’d rather. Only not Rick – please, anything but that! Give me a break.” Once he had put the papers on top of the desk, the professor had a good look at Teresa, straight at her for a few moments, in marked contrast with the energetic mob, which had been so speedy and efficient in recent days. The girl babbled a few shy, fleeting apologies. The professor dived back inside and the bustle continued. Teresa was new to the team. She didn’t know that this was a boss you did not kid around with. There must have been a hundred, a hundred and fifty scientists working in that small space. They had raised the furrowed ground of the cave with wooden struts and constructed a platform on which the offices were built, marked out by glass plates or by the irregular presence of the big machines that insisted on asserting their scale. At the back, in the furthest part of the cave, where it drifted towards other hidden chambers and openings, stood the professor’s office, as compact as all the rest, with its small meeting room beside it, equipped with a long table and a screen. The whole length of the place buzzed with people in white overalls with papers and tablets in their hands, gliding along the corridors, sitting focused at the countless monitors, handling data quickly and with determination. Lúcia, tapping on the keyboard, could not resist the urge to make a personal remark. “Nearly three years together, and this guy – every time he sees me, it’s like we’ve never met!” Her colleague was up to speed on the story and knew how hurt she was feeling. “You’ll see. It’s an emergency! Things will be back to normal afterwards …” Just words for their own sake. Spontaneous solidarity. The truth was, there never would be an opportunity for things to get any deeper. Young Teresa, down the hallway, was trying to hide her tears. In the office beside the entrance, the people from the younger team did their best to console her: “That’s just how the professor is. Nothing personal. He’s been even worse since Cacilda left him.” “What do you mean?” “A real scene, up at the university, sparks flying… Not a chair left intact. Oh, look, speak of the devil…” Professor Cacilda was making her way in, slowly coming down the corridor in her silvery riding gear, laden down with motorbike helmet and several bags. Behind her, some poor devil, evidently amazed to find himself here, was with some effort transporting a large box. Cacilda tossed the helmet and a few bags into her office, as she passed, and told the man to keep going, all the way to the end. “Do you need help with that?” they asked her. “Thank you,” she replied politely, “we’re all set.” Everybody was expecting the encounter between Cacilda and Professor Ricardo to turn into a quarrel, with a jolt that would relieve the monotony of their tasks. But no – the professor got to his feet, welcomed her politely, and helped the man to put the parcel down on the table; then he simply said, in a quiet, indifferent voice: “Thank you, Professor. Please – stay.” He had soon called all the team leaders into his meeting room. “So,” he began, pointing at the package on the table, “do you people want to know what this piece of equipment can do?” CHAPTER 2 – Change in Command Follow Escape Goat on twitter: @_escape_goat_ Continue reading the story in English at www.escapegoat.world Read the texts in Portuguese, Spanish, French, Dutch, Italian and English at www.facebook.com/bodeinspiratorio/