Franca Treur is a Dutch novelist who has been nominated for a range of literary awards and won the 2010 Selexyz Debut Prize for her bestselling novel Dorsvloer vol confetti (Confetti on the treshing floor). The novel was released as a feature-length and prize winning film in 2014 called ‘Confetti Harvest’.
She is a regular contributor of stories, columns and essays to national newspapers and journals which include NRC Handelsblad, de Volkskrant, Groene Amsterdammer, Vrij Nederland, radio 1 and Vogue. She was selected as writer in residency in the International Writing Program in Iowa for the year 2014. In 2015 she was one of the guests at the Georgetown Literary Festival in Malaysia.
Her collections of short stories X&Y and Rich while you sleep are originally appeared as standalone, flash fiction pieces on the back page of the Dutch newspaper NRC Handelsblad. Some of them are translated into English, and readable here.
Franca Treur, born and raised in Zeeland, lives in Amsterdam.
Ronit Palache from Prometheus represent the translation rights for Franca Treur’s works.
Her work is still available for every country.
Why is it that such a bestseller has not yet been translated into German or English? When Confetti on the treshing floor appeared in October 2009, it went directly to the Frankfurt book fair on the basis of the rave reviews, while not so many copies had been sold at the time. In 2009 people were cautious about purchasing debuts and foreign publishers did not dare to. Only in 2010 the book became a big bestseller. In the meantime 200,000 copies have been sold.
Confetti on the treshing floor (2009) – (Dorsvloer vol confetti)
The commune (2014) – (De woongroep)
I shouldn’t wager on anything (2015) – (Ik zou maar nergens op rekenen)
X&Y (2016) – (X&Y)
Hear now my voice (2017) – (Hoor nu mijn stem)
Rich while you sleep (2017) – (Slapend rijk)
Sample translation of Confetti on the trashing floor:
Sample translation of The commune:
Sample translation Now Hear my voice:
Sample translation flash fiction:
Eline had lived in the student house the longest; the others came after. They used the washing machine, the vacuum, and the gas stove, for which none of them had paid. Eline and the last crop—yuppies by now—had purchased those things.
The day she too moved out, she took the washing machine, the vacuum, and the gas stove with her. Someone was cooking rice when Eline disconnected the stove, but they both agreed: she had a right to. And rice softens if left standing in water on the counter.
After she had moved, Eline made one last pass through the kitchen. Her eyes fell on the radio. The radio had been there before she moved in, and because she had listened to it the longest it, was more hers than the others’ who listened to it now; off the radio went in the bag. She left her keys on the table, with a note.
In her new place, she turned on the radio. She startled at the voices in her kitchen: she found their echoes grating. She sent an email to her old housemates—who were yuppies by now. She asked if they knew whose radio it had been, if it had been one of theirs instead of the new inhabitants’, who they did not know in any case.
The email Eline got back said that the radio belonged to the student house, and a new radio cost only a tenner nowadays.
Eline emailed the student house residents saying that she had moved with the radio by accident. She wanted to set up an appointment the following day to rectify the situation.
She got an email back saying that they didn’t need the radio; she had no right to return it.