Turle’s interest is ‘translator studies’ at a time when translators seek recognition, claim they are ‘authors’, when biographies of translators seem to surface as a proof that they are flesh and blood, facing their programmed disappearance due to the advent of translation apps. As a self-avowed ‘gallicizing patchworker’ and author of around 200 translations spanning forty years, he recounts his typical day, describing the translator’s everyday aches, doubts, failures, and their possible effects on his work and role in the editorial and publishing process. In particular he reflects on globish; India as the republic of multilingualism; somnolence as a time of maturation, research, and sometimes unexpected revelation; and a bottle of South African wine given to him by Andre Brink on their last meeting.