Um: not answering the question asked?
Some things just keep on giving.
Who, in an interview which is supposed to be about the books on their bookshelves
- which, you know, one would take to be about the books one is reading/has read/intends some day to read -
starts showing off the multilingual translations of their own books?
Okay, I have a brag shelf - actually, I have two, one at home and one at work - not that they include any translations except the articles that were being published in non-English publications anyway - but if someone asked me about the books on my shelves (the floor, the coffee table, the settee, etc etc etc), I sincerely hope I would start raving about my amazing collection of the works of my beloved Dame Rebecca and how I have a complete set of Antonia Forests but woe, woe, some are disintegrating Puffin editions.
Or my collection of Historically Significant Works on Sex gleaned from the remoter corners, bottom shelves, top shelves, etc of secondhand bookshops over the years.
Or obscure but deserve to be known better works of sff by women gathered over the decades.
I.e. something that would say something about me that wasn't 'Me! Me!! Meee!!!'
(Am somehow thinking of dear Oscar's comment on the rage of Caliban on not seeing his face in a mirror.)
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