This is a collection of short stories by an early 20th-century Bengali writer who I consider inexcusably unknown outside of India. I recently discovered his writing and was so impressed that I immediately ordered several more volumes of his writings. Fortunately, a fair amount of his work—both stories and novels—have been translated into English. Unfortunately, those translations are not of equal quality. And while I was fortunate to discover him in excellent translations, this recent (2018) collection simply doesn’t meet the standard of fluid English prose, notwithstanding the translator’s excellent academic credentials. All too often, people who are mostly fluent in two languages indulge their passion by deciding that they can translate beloved literary works. Unfortunately for them (and for readers) translation is a profession for good reason. High quality literary translations is an art and it demands skills that mere fluency does not confer. It is not enough to know two languages thoroughly because, as here, what often results is a slavish or too-literal translation where the result may be technically, literally accurate but lacks all life, all soul. I imagine the translator here could justify every choice she made, every word, every phrase. But the stories are mostly dead on the page; she has simply failed to bring any energy, any vitality, to the characters, to the story lines, or what Chatterji was writing about. What a missed opportunity.