To my great shame I must admit that until this morning I was totally unaware that there was such a thing as Women in Translation Month. I found out through an invitation from New York Review Books that’s offering special discounts on a selection of books in translation, all by women writers, just in time for summer reading.

They have special discounts on a couple by Magda Szabó, a Hungarian writer whose “The Door” I consider one of my favourites and which was made into a film with Helen Mirren. The list also includes well-known names such as Anna Seghers, Simone Weil, Eileen Chang and Tove Jansson, the author and artist who created the Moomins, but also many I am ashamed to admit I have never heard of, such as Silvina Ocampo or Benedetta Craveri.

It does appear that, like in so many walks of life, women are also under-represented and under-appreciated in the literary world. Less than a third of literary translations published in English were written by women, and they earn far fewer prizes for their works. Eight years ago, Meytal Radzinski researched the publishing landscape and realized that translated literature was very much male-dominated. She wanted to do something about this, and that’s how Women in Translation Month got started.

So, Women in Translation Month is a reminder for all of us to look out more for women writers – as well as their translators (who may of course be men or women). Look out for these writers in the bookshops in your own country, many of whom are taking the opportunity this hot August to shine the light on books by women from around the world.

Some of the titles sound truly intriguing. Just to give you a tiny taste: Always Coca-Cola by Alexandra Chrietieh, translated by Michelle Hartman about three young women students at Beirut university; All Russians Love Birch Trees by Olga Grjasnowa, from Azerbaijan, translated by Eva Bacon, whose heroine is an immigrant living in Frankfurt studying to become an interpreter; Chernobyl Prayer by Svetlana Alexievich, translated by Anna Gunin and Arch Tair, a collection of short interviews/monologues by witnesses of the 1986 reactor disaster in Ukraine; or Children in Reindeer Woods by Kristín Ómarsdóttir, translated by Lytton Smith, which is described as a lyrical and continually surprising take on the absurdity of war and the mysteries of childhood. Then there is A Strange Woman by Turkish writer Leyla Erbil, translated by Amy Marie Spangler and Nermin Menemencioglu, or Lake Like a Mirror by Ho Sok Fong, translated from the Chinese by Natascha Bruce. The perhaps weirdest title I spotted among the various offerings must be Because Venus Crossed an Alpine Violet on the Day that I was born by Mona Høvring, translated by Kari Dickson and Rachel Ranking, a Norwegian tale about two sisters trying to reconnect after many years of separation.

I am sorry I cannot personally recommend any of the above, not having read them. It is more of a wake-up call to myself and all of us, that there is a multitude of female voices out there waiting to be heard. At the same time it is meant as a sign of appreciation and gratitude to all the literary translators who are making it possible for us to savour these voices that would otherwise be closed books to us.