Creating a Vivid World: A Q&A with Lisa C. Hayden, the translator of Egana Djabbarova’s My Dreadful Body

The publication of Egana Djabbarova’s My Dreadful Body by New Vessel Press earlier this year is an important contribution to feminist russophone literature available to readers in English translation. Following the excerpt from this novel we published recently from the opening of the seventh chapter, “Tongue,” we’re taking the opportunity to dive a little deeper into the context, structure, and language of this remarkable book in our interview with its translator, Lisa C. Hayden. We are deeply grateful to Hayden, who also brought to anglophone readers books by Guzel Yakhina, Margarita Khemlin, Narine Abgaryan, Marina Stepnova, and Katerina Gordeeva, among others, for insights into her translation work.

Book cover of My Dreadful Body

Olga Zilberbourg: What considerations went into your decision to translate My Dreadful Body?

Lisa Hayden: The simplest answer is that I enjoyed the book and had a very clear sense of the narrative voice during my first reading. Clarity and enjoyment are always my initial cues to take a translation project. There were other factors, too, including the fact that Azerbaijan, a country I visited several times during the 1990s, features in this novel. And then there’s Egana herself, with her angles on feminism and family strife. The health themes interested me, too, since I used to write, as a freelancer, articles about drug discovery and medical devices. Among other things, I’d long wanted to translate a book for New Vessel Press. All the emotions flowing through Egana’s text felt stronger to me with each draft, telling me I’d made the right decision. I was nearly in tears by the time I finally read the version I turned in to New Vessel. And again when I read an advance copy of the book. I’d never received a printed advance copy of a translation before My Dreadful Body and it was a very moving experience to hold a book I’d translated before the book was finalized.

Olga Zilberbourg: Djabbarova first came to literature as a feminist poet. She has published three collections of poetry in Russian (as well as novels), and in English her work has appeared in F Letter: New Russian Feminist Poetry, edited by Galina Rymbu, Eugene Ostashevsky, and Ainsley Morse. Did her poetry affect your approach to this translation?  

Lisa Hayden: There is a bit of poetry in My Dreadful Body, so Egana’s poetry definitely affected my translation work! It was especially interesting (and challenging, since I rarely translate poetry) to work with lines from an Azeri lullaby and Russian-language responses to it. Egana’s prose often feels poetic, too, with lovely imagery and a rich compactness. That compactness and lovely imagery combine with beautiful cadences and use all five senses, creating a very vivid world. I recommend watching Egana recite some of her poetry during an online event held in May 2025 at Amherst College, hosted by Polina Barskova and Catherine Ciepiela. Egana’s event felt like a litmus test to me because it happened right around the time my translation was due. Had I gotten her tones right in my translation? I’m very voice-oriented, so hearing Egana speak – and recognizing many of the themes and even wording in her poems – was (how to say it?) an amazing experience. I love her strong feminist voice, both on the page and in speech. I tend to work very intuitively, so it feels almost as if I absorb Russian voices and then attempt to transform them into English. I don’t know quite how else to explain things.

Olga Zilberbourg: The narrator’s medical condition alters the course of her life quite dramatically. She describes it with precision and vivid details. Vivid descriptions of suffering can be emotionally challenging to read, let alone translate. How did this affect your work?

Lisa Hayden: I see the narrator’s medical condition and treatments as one of the most important layers of the novel, for all sorts of physiological, emotional, and metaphorical reasons. This layer of the book is medical, scary, and perhaps even physically painful, too, since I suspect that most of us have fears about our health. I certainly find it significantly harder to translate texts with physical and/or emotional pain than to read them; all the text’s words and emotions flow through me many, many times during the course of the work, even when I’m away from my desk. I can’t claim that my translation process is even close to, say, method acting, but, as a colleague and I were discussing just a few hours before I sat down to answer your question, translations about human pain and suffering leave traces on us. Just as they leave traces on their readers. There’s a ripple effect.

Olga Zilberbourg: Though this novel has a chronologically unfolding plot that has to do with the course of the narrator’s neurological condition, it’s also delightfully nonlinear. The book is divided into eleven sections, each titled for a particular body part: “Eyebrows,” “Eyes,” “Hair,” etc. In each section, the narrator often circles back to the attitude of her mother and grandparents to a particular subject. I wonder if this unique structure presented any challenges for you as a translator?

Lisa Hayden: I love the way Egana structured the novel, focusing on one body part per chapter. This is the sort of framework that keeps me interested, both as a reader and as a translator. I love that there’s always a new perspective, another way to enter the text and the issues it presents. Her chapters combine numerous motifs and threads from her characters’ lives: childhood and adulthood, family and Egana’s own personal life, healthiness and illness… One passage, in the “Hair” chapter, uses very poignant repetition when discussing Egana’s grandmothers. Egana’s writing is so wonderfully clean and clear that I didn’t find the translation unusually difficult. Though of course it was difficult! Every translation is difficult in its own way. The biggest challenges in translating Egana’s text lay in writing the translation as cleanly, clearly, and concisely as possible. Fortunately, Egana patiently answered many (many!) questions so I could feel comfortable with the wording and details in the translation.

I’m also beyond grateful that New Vessel Press is publishing the book. Publisher Michael Wise, who’s also a fantastic editor, takes tremendous care of his books, their writers, and their translators. It was a joy to work with him. My Dreadful Body was expertly and very thoroughly edited and proofread in several stages. Michael’s advice and ideas enabled us to replicate as many of Egana’s text’s rhythms as possible while retaining lots of Azeri words, too. I’m thankful that loads of patient and creative suggestions from Michael and his team improved the translation so much by admirably and tactfully balancing the wonderfully unique and nuanced aspects of Egana’s writing with understandability and clarity for anglophone readers.

Olga Zilberbourg: Do you see Djabbarova’s feminism influencing the structure, themes, or language of this book?

Lisa Hayden: One of the reasons I love My Dreadful Body so much is that I identify very closely with how Egana writes about the limitations that society, traditions, and family members inflict on women. The strictures she mentions range from things like grooming to choices of bathing suits to behavior at diaspora weddings. The fact that each chapter is titled for a body part goes a long way in demonstrating linkages between a woman’s physical body and how her upbringing affects her thought processes. Egana’s account of her relationships and interactions with family members is also telling. I’m hesitant to write too much about any of these aspects of My Dreadful Body because I hope readers will discover details and meanings that are especially significant to them so they can form their own relationships with Egana and her story. I love the power of her writing and hope our readers will, too!

Punctured Lines: Buy Egana Djabbarova’s My Dreadful Body in Lisa Hayden’s translation from New Vessel Press or at your favorite bookstore. Rate and review!

Lisa Hayden is a literary translator who lives in New England.

Video from Eastern European Voices for Resistance and Reinvention

Thanks to those of you who could attend our event, Eastern European Voices for Resistance and Reinvention, hosted by Library Nineteen in Baltimore on March 7. We loved having you as our audience and hope to continue the conversations in various ways.

Ukraine needs all of our support. While there are many ways to help, we’re asking for donataions to Ukraine TrustChain, an organization that helps evacuate civilians out of war zones: https://www.ukrainetrustchain.org/

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We Have to Go Back: Speculative Fiction, Nostalgia, and the Ghosts of Bookshelves Past, Guest Essay by Kristina Ten

We’re delighted to welcome Kristina Ten on the blog with an essay about some of the origins—personal, familial, cultural, and political—of her debut short story collection. Tell Me Yours, I’ll Tell You Mine will be published by Stillhouse Press on October 7, 2025. Please pre-order the book and ask your local and academic libraries to purchase it. Authors and publishers depend on advance orders! And please don’t forget to rate and review.

— Punctured Lines

History Without Guilt

Part of putting a book out into the world is asking people to read it, and part of asking people to read it is letting go of whatever carefully assembled artist statement lives in your head—how you would describe what your work is circling around, grasping at—and embracing that every reader is going to define their experience with your book for themselves.

That’s what I’m currently doing with my debut story collection, Tell Me Yours, I’ll Tell You Mine. And the definition early readers keep landing on is the word “nostalgic.”

Knowing these readers, I can tell they mean it as a compliment, or at least a helpful neutral statement. All the stories in the book revolve around games and the childlore of the aughts: the divinatory power of cootie catchers, the electrifying lawlessness of the early internet, bonfire legends whispered with a flashlight held under the chin. About half the stories feature young protagonists. Many are set in schoolyards, summer camps, and locker rooms. Others are set in the kind of far-off realms that would feel right at home in a child’s imagination—even as the book itself is unquestionably adult, preoccupied with the horrors of, one, being controlled; and, two, the constant vigilance some of us (girls and women, immigrants, queer people) learn to exercise against it.

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Narrating a Violent Childhood: A Q&A with Fiona Bell and Margarita Vaysman about Avdotya Panaeva’s The Talnikov Family

Avdotya Panaeva was born in 1820 and first began publishing her work in one of Russia’s premier literary magazines, Sovremennik, in 1846. The author of numerous short stories, novels, memoirs, as well as collaborative projects, she has only recently begun to achieve the recognition that she deserves in the English-speaking world.

On October 8, 2024, Columbia University Press published Fiona Bell’s translation of Panaeva’s first novel, The Talnikov Family. This became the second full-length translation of Panaeva’s work to English. In my review of the book in On the Seawall, I mention several social and historical factors that have kept this delightful novel from English-language readers for so long. In writing about this book, I have relied, in part, on Bell’s introduction to the novel and on the research by Margarita Vaysman, whose book Self-Conscious Realism: Metafiction and the Nineteenth-Century Russian Novel devotes a section to Panaeva’s work, including an excerpt that ran in Punctured Lines.

Today, it is my pleasure to discuss this novel and Panaeva’s work more broadly with her translator Fiona Bell and scholar Margarita Vaysman.

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Ugrinovich and the Sex Giant: Fiction by Anna Natalia Malachowskaja, translated by Anastasia Savenko-Moore

Anna Natalia Malachowskaja is a well-known Soviet and Russian author, feminist, and dissident. In 1979, together with Tatiana Goricheva, Tatiana Mamonova, and Julia Voznesenskaya, she wrote and edited a feminist samizdat publication Женщина и Россия [Woman and Russia] and later Maria. These publications were deemed anti-Soviet; the women were questioned by the KGB and forced to emigrate. Having settled in Austria, Malachowskaja completed her Ph.D. at the University of Salzburg. She turned her research into the Russian folklore character of Baba Yaga into a series of published books where she argues that the fairy tale character is a marginalization and amalgamation of three goddesses of the ancient world. In addition to her scholarship, Malachowskaja is the author of novels, collections of stories, and poems. Malachowskaja’s fiction is frequently accompanied by art. As an artist, she has exhibited her work in St. Petersburg, Vienna, and Salzburg.

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Olga Krauze, a profile by Sonja Franeta

“Обстрел прекратился в 11:30. Пока всё тихо. У нас в квартире тепло, работает водопровод и центральное отопление. Нет электричества, но светит солнце и на улице тает снег.” [The shelling stopped at 11:30. For now everything is quiet. Our apartment is warm, and there’s running water and central heating. No electricity, but the sun is shining and the snow is melting outside.]

—my friend Olga Krauze writes from Kharkiv, the second largest city in Ukraine. I was interviewing her on Zoom for this profile and we got interrupted. Olga is a poet and singer and I’ve known her since 1991. She has lived in Kharkiv for 12 years with her partner Elina, who is Ukrainian.

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Readings by Authors Born in Ukraine, Russia, and Moldova at San Francisco’s Lit Crawl

Update: there has been a venue change. This event is now happening at Stage Werx Theatre, 446 Valencia Street.

Punctured Lines is co-hosting a Lit Crawl reading by six Bay Area writers born in Ukraine, Russia, and Moldova. Shaken by the horrific tragedy of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, we will read pieces exploring our connections, direct and indirect, to the part of the world we associate with home and exile, and where many of our friends and relatives are suffering as a result of the war. We work in the genres of nonfiction, literary and historical fiction, YA, flash, and other literary forms to tell our stories, and will read excerpts from our published and new work.

This event will take place at 5 pm on October 22nd at Blondie’s Bar Stage Werx Theatre, 446 Valencia Street in San Francisco .

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From Black Panthers to Ukraine’s Orange Revolution and More: A Conversation with the Author of Revolutions of All Colors Dewaine Farria

Revolutions of All Colors (Syracuse UP, 2020) first came to my attention when we were putting together Punctured Lines’ 2021 Books for Review list. The novel’s description indicated that it featured African-American characters and was set, in part, in Ukraine. Intrigued, I looked it up and found myself completely immersed in the multi-generational saga that intertwines locations and histories that I had not previously seen connected.

This novel opens in New Orleans in the 1970s, with Ettie, a young African-American woman who, unsatisfied with what she perceives as her preacher father’s complacence in the face of racial violence, becomes involved with the Black Panther Party. The story details a dramatic incident of police brutality against the Panthers and the long-term repercussions of this violence.

Continue reading “From Black Panthers to Ukraine’s Orange Revolution and More: A Conversation with the Author of Revolutions of All Colors Dewaine Farria”

Born in the USSR, Raised in Canada

We’re happy to share the recording from the event we hosted on May 15, 2022, gathering writers who were born in the former Soviet Union and immigrated to Canada as children. Currently located all across Canada, from Montreal (Luba Markovskaia) to Vancouver (Maria Reva) with a definite hub around Toronto (Julia Zarankin, Lea Zeltserman, Maria Lioutaia, Maria Bloshteyn), these generous writers shared excerpts from their work and answered questions about living with hyphenated identities and building writing communities. Russia’s war in Ukraine was at the forefront of this conversation, as most of the writers and the participants have family and friends affected by the bombs. This event was a fundraiser, and we encourage everyone to continue donating to the organizations listed below.

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Direct Help Needed for Ukrainian Translators

Punctured Lines is forwarding a call for donations to a new fund, the UATI Support Fund, to assist members of the UATI, the Українська асоціація перекладачів / Ukrainian Interpreters and Translators Association. The UATI Support Fund is administered by UATI Board President Natalia Pavliuk. It is helping assist Ukrainian translators and interpreters with costs such as:

– evacuation (transportation and accommodation)

– medication and medical care

– food and clothes

– supplementing basic income for members whose income has dropped because they are focusing on emergency pro bono translation and interpreting

Natalia is herself in the city of Kalush in the west of Ukraine. She reports: “so far the fund has helped evacuate two people from Kharkiv and has helped cover the cost of special footwear and a safety vest for one of our colleagues who is now in the territorial defense; and provided funds to a single mother now in Kyiv for food and essentials for the child.” If you have questions about the UATI Support Fund, please contact Natalia at uati.org@gmail.com.

Find out how to contribute to the UATI Support Fund using PayPal, Venmo, check, or bank transfer here.