January 20
Queridos Amigos,
Sometimes at night, when insomnia visits me, I imagine a country made up entirely of immigrants—every single one of its citizens. Would such a place be at a disadvantage vis-a-vis more typical states? Certainly not for any lack of roots, since immigrants, just like everyone else, have roots in abundance. And we have something else: “the immigrant ethos,” pushing forward all the time and at any cost, for ourselves and for others. I don’t think this dream of mine is dystopian. On the contrary, I would happily pledge allegiance to such a nation: after all, it would always feel new.
More than 14 percent of Americans are immigrants—a whopping 27 percent if you count their children who were born here. That’s over 90 million people, enough to make its own large country. (As an example, France today has a population of 66 million.) Of course, the issue of immigration is not new, neither here nor anywhere else. Odysseus is an immigrant, at least until his journey back to Ithaca is complete. The Bible is full of immigrants (Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham…). So were the songs of medieval troubadours. If the word “immigrant” doesn’t convince you as a referent in all these cases, just call them outsiders.
The United States has, from day one, questioned what it means to be an outsider, and how newcomers reinvent us as a nation. That’s also a global conversation. People from Egypt, Pakistan, and India constitute more than 80% of the population of the United Arab Emirates. Half a million Haitians have sought a better life in the Dominican Republic. The same can be said of Turkish citizens moving to Germany, Palestinians to Chile, Chinese and Vietnamese to South Korea, and people from Benin, Ghana, Niger, and Togo to Nigeria. For whatever the reason—financial, political, climatic—venturing from one’s place of birth to a safer haven is the defining force shaping the 21st century.
At Restless Books, empathizing with the outsider is our mission. In our increasingly polarized world—ruled by suspicion of the other, and shaped by the dangerous belief that immigrants seeking a better life pose a threat to citizens seeking the same—we remain committed to delivering superb stories from around the globe about people and ideas in motion.
Our books are often by and about immigrants. Their disparate stories open us up to unexpected discoveries about who we are. They illustrate that the movement of people from one place to another isn’t a threat but an affirmation of shared humanity. For these books to reach our shelves, they depend on another heroic figure: the translator. Without translators, language would divide our world rather than unite it. (Independent publishers like Restless are increasingly the best purveyors of literature in translation—take a look at World Literature Today’s list of 75 notable translations of 2024.)
This year, I invite you to read books by immigrants, about immigrants, and books from countries other than your own. I am proud to say that 8 of the 11 books we will publish in 2025 are written by immigrant writers. Here is a sampling:
Lamentations of Nezahualcóyotl, a collection of Nahuatl poems by the most transformative thinker of the pre-Hispanic past in Mexico, inaugurates our new line of poetry books.
What This Place Makes me: Contemporary Plays On Immigration brings together seven prize-winning American immigrant playwrights whose work looks at the capacity of outsiders to redefine us.
Linda Bondestam’s Good Morning, Space tells an illustrated story of a spirited young child who discovers space creatures waking up on the other end of a makeshift telescope at 4:00 a.m.
Sachiko Kashiwaba’s cult classic The Village Beyond the Mist, which famously inspired the film Spirited Away, will now be published for the first time in English on the occasion of its 50th anniversary.
Camille U. Adams’s How to Be Unmothered: A Trinidadian Memoir brings an astounding new voice and style to the genre, one that will redefine the Caribbean literary canon.
In addition to our publishing program, thanks to our ongoing collaboration with the New York Public Library and the Jones Library in Amherst, Massachusetts, we will continue our immigrant writing workshops to offer tools to emerging immigrant writers to tell their stories.
I also have the pleasure to announce that, in the spirit of debunking what used to be strict boundaries between literary genres, our prestigious Prize for New Immigrant Writing, awarding $10,000 and a residency at Millay Arts, will no longer separate submissions into fiction and nonfiction categories. In this 10th year of the prize, we will now accept both genres each year. The prize has proudly launched the careers of essential voices such as Grace Talusan, Deepak Unnikrishnan, Rajiv Mohabir, Priyanka Champaneri, Ani Gjika, and others. We look forward to the next generation of immigrant writers who will define our age through their unique insights.
I invite you to open these and other books and travel to unforeseen places. Yes, I invite you to do something humans depend on more than ever: the intimate art of reading. May the new year make us less suspicious of one another. Reading is the antidote. In the act and art of reading, we all become immigrants.
Gracias,
Ilan Stavans
Publisher