Lin King Sues Publisher Over 'Relay Translation' of Taiwan Travelogue

Lin King, whose English translation of Yáng Shuāng-Zǐ's novel Taiwan Travelogue won the Booker Prize, began legal proceedings this week against an unnamed European publisher. She laid out the dispute in a Tuesday Instagram statement.

The case targets a practice publishers call "relay translation": producing a new version in a third language by working from an existing translation rather than the source text. It's widespread in the industry, rarely litigated, and almost never blamed.

What does King actually claim?

King holds the copyright to her English version. A relay edition that lifts from her English to make, say, a German or French version needs her sign-off. "As I am the sole copyright owner of the English Taiwan Travelogue," she wrote, "an unauthorized third-language translation violates my copyright."

She says she sent "repeated warnings" before suing. The publisher's name hasn't surfaced publicly.

Why is she pushing this fight?

Money isn't the driver, and King says so outright. "This is not about the money," she writes. She volunteered, unpaid, to translate Táiwān Màn Yóu Lù — the Mandarin original — and pitch it to U.S. publishers. "Translation is a horrendous business plan," she adds. "I do it because I believe in the books."

So she wants a precedent, not a payout. She wants courts to read relay translation as infringement, full stop.

Graywolf Press, her U.S. publisher, is standing behind her. Executive Editor Yuka Igarashi said: "Lin King's inspired translation of Yáng Shuāng-zǐ's brilliant novel demonstrates the point she is making—that translators are writers in their own right whose copyright must be respected. As artists, mediators, and advocates, translators are indispensable in the dissemination of literature internationally."

What does this change for publishing?

If King wins, houses commissioning relay translations will need to license the intermediate version too, not just the original rights. That's a new fee and a new conversation. Smaller imprints that lean on relay work to bring lesser-known literatures to new readers will feel it most.

It also reframes who translators are, on paper and in court. King argues the translator is closer to a co-author than a technician. "If the writer is a composer, the translator is the musician; if the writer is a choreographer, the translator is the dancer," she writes. "Every one of the performer's artistic choices impacts the delivery and reception of the original work."

Her broader point lands harder: relay translation tends to erase the translator who did the heaviest linguistic work. The publisher gets a cheaper book; the second translator, working from the first translator's English prose, rarely gets credit. The first translator rarely even gets asked.

What's next?

King wants the industry to retire the "it's always been done this way" defense. "Since when has 'it's always been done this way,'" she writes, "been a sufficient reason for continuing to infringe on people's rights?"

Her appeal to publishers is pointed: "To all publishers of translated fiction, I beseech you: Ask for permission, not forgiveness. If you love these books, respect the rights of the translators who rewrite these stories so that you, too, can read them."

The lawsuit's outcome, more than any angry post, will reshape the relay conversation. For now, every European publisher eyeing a version of Taiwan Travelogue knows there's a translator in California watching.