In Georgia, the President has declared that police stations should be transparent, to reflect the honesty and transparency of the police force. This giant structure is on the way to the airport in Tbilisi. The one below, is on the road out to Avchala, the area where Zura lives.
This literal way of translating abstract concepts into bricks and mortar is fascinating. The policemen at work behind their panes of glass are exposed, illuminated and dazzled.
Zura won a prize for Book for the Year in 2010. As well as a cash sum, he received a table and chair from the Ministry of Culture. This is another way of translating the abstract 'writing' into something we can see. Nata and I were shown this new furniture, in the hall of Zura's otherwise sparsely furnished home. It sits, black and shiny, ready to play its part in the translation of Zura's imagination into literature.
But what of the translation my friend and I are setting out to do? It is a simple case of word for word, but more than that, we need to translate one world into another, so that the words themselves become as beautifully transparent as a Georgian police station.
That our services are necessary, I think is shown by the way the title of Zura's Book of the Year has been translated in the press release online. I find it hard so far to get a picture of Child's Bite on Goldcrest in October. We will visit the Bakur Sulakauri publishing house on Tuesday and may get some idea.
