Showing posts with label in english. Show all posts
Showing posts with label in english. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

languagehat.com: UP OR DOWN.

languagehat.com: UP OR DOWN.

is about the poem and the song "А напоследок я скажу".

and the comments give a lot of different great translation attempts; saw that page too late and couldn't submit mine:

When it all ends I will just say -
You have your leave with no obligation
As into madness I descend -
Or rise to folly’s higher elevation.

What was your love - you tasted doom
Just fleetingly, but what’s the matter -
You ruined me - unskillfully,
And did not know any better...

A cruel miss... A hunter must
Expect no pardon having  bungled -
A body walks and sees the light
But it is empty and abandoned.

Few thoughts still animate the head
But hands are hanging in despair
Like flock of birds across the sky
All smells and sounds leave the air...

When it all ends I will just say...


Saturday, March 19, 2011

Making sense of Simonov: THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.

Article: languagehat.com: THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.

... and quoting from "Ivan's War":

As well as working as the party's spy, an individual politruk was likely to combine the functions of a propagandist with those of army chaplain, military psychiatrist, and school prefect. "The politruk," the army's orders stated, "is the central figure for all educational work among soldiers." The range of topics they taught was wide indeed. Politruks were present at classes in target shooting, drill practice, and rifle disassembly. They were the individuals who typed up individual scores, noting how many men were "excellent" in any field and inventing excuses for the many who were not. They wrote monthly reports on their units' discipline, on morale, and on "extraordinary events," including desertion, drunkenness, insubordination, and absence without leave. They were also the men behind the party's festivals, including the anniversary of the October Revolution..., Red Army Day (23 February), and the workers' carnival on the first of May. Enlisted men looked forward to these holidays. The lecture they had to sit through from the politruk was just a prelude, after all, to a bit of free time and some serious drinking.

A politruk who really thumped the propaganda drum was bound to meet resistance. It is impressive that some — earnest, ambitious, or just plain devout — tried everything to mold their men according to the rules. They kept up a barrage of discussions, meetings, and poster campaigns. They read aloud to the troops in their spare time... Some managed small libraries, and almost all ran propaganda huts where posters were designed and banners hung. Political officers in all units taught basic literacy, too, as well as investigating complaints and answering the men's questions about daily life. Their work was never easy. Like every other type of officer, the politruks battled with shortages. "We do not have a single volume of the works of Lenin," one man informed his commissar in 1939... Although they seem absurd in retrospect, some of these politruks ... believed in their mission and made real sacrifices in its name. Maybe a few soldiers appreciated their presence... But more looked at the politruks' clean boots, smooth hands, and unused cartridge belts and sensed hypocrisy.

The politruks were hated, too, because they had an overall responsibility for discipline. Denunciations often originated with them, and it was usually their reports that brought the military police, the Special Section, into a messroom or barracks. Their obligation to inform was in direct conflict with another of the politruks' roles, which was to foster an atmosphere of mutual trust.

Further discussion yielded the unexpected result: it looks like the correct translation of the novel's title into English would have been "The Quick and the Dead", because the original novel's title is actually hinting at the Creed:

"does the title of the novel echo, to a Russophone ear, "живым и мертвым" in the Slavonic version of the Creed?

Well, it must, for those who had to learn the Creed by heart at some point. It very likely did for the author, who had been attending church services in his childhood. Furthermore, several characters in the novel use other Christian allusions, and the title phrase is actually uttered by one of them in the scene of an improvised court-martial as "and we, sinners, dead and alive" ("и мы, грешные, живые и мертвые"); this is a very curious psychological trait of the atheist and the communist, perhaps a testimony to the religious overtones of Communism."

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

languagehat.com: THE MASTER AND MARGARITA.

languagehat.com: THE MASTER AND MARGARITA.

Couldn't refrain from commenting...

I must confess that I don't have the same admiration for M&M novel as I used to have - not after re-reading it several times at different ages (that I did thus re-read it would testify to the strength of the original admiration). I think that many of those who read it as Soviet adolescents will never forget the stunning first impression it all - the satire, the devil, the romance - had made on them, especially by contrast with what one usually read and saw at the time. That, and the language - best words in the best order.

What turns me away now is mostly the Voland/Margarita line (so very diabolic: the dead villains having a ball, bathing in champaign, and naked witches, no less) that has started to annoy me at some point. And, to think that, in Stalin's Moscow, of all places, the Devil himself would find nothing more interesting by way of evil than a bunch of petty thieves and literary sycophants... I don't know what understanding of it would be worse - a deliberate statement of values or a moral blind spot. As for the Jerusalem story, for me it was just like the rest of it: stunning first impression that, over the years, changed to slight annoyance from what I saw as the arbitrariness of it all.

Then again, there is that study proving that Bulgakov was thinking about his conversation with Stalin when writing at least some of the exchanges between Voland and Margarita. There is something narrow and self-centred about all that, and I think it rubs off on the rest of the novel somehow. A nervous, broken man, just like the Master, never fully recovered from the bloody chaos of the Civil War, seeking a Power - any Power - that would protect him, that he could serve in exchange for peace, and maybe a Power that would end up understanding and rewarding him, and, yes, punishing his enemies.

As for the recent TV series, I think it is quite good, and, I believe, true to the text to the point of actually having just what I see as the shortcomings of the novel itself.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Harry the hobbit

As my children made me read several volumes of Harry Potter, I could never stop comparing it to Tolkien trilogy. Surprisingly, the comparison wasn't as unfavourable as I had initially expected.

On the one hand, the books obviously could have hardly been more different.

Different in how they were apparently written: H.P. looks likely to have started as something that had been intended for children, with apparent aim of selling more copies, the undeniable brilliance being rather an overkill, whereas Tolkien would probably initially presented a very hard marketing case.

Different in outlook: Tolkien belonged to a small circle of Christians in an un-religious day and age, and evidently believed the world was going to hell in a hand-basket; Rawling, on the other hand, seems pretty content with modern ideas and the new tolerant, politically correct, low-ceremony, taboo- and mystery-free world of today, even as she is trying to imagine it's hidden magical side. This optimism even seems to include such intellectual's scare as consumer society. Many traits of Rawling's heroes would be abhorrent to Tolkien: they would cheerfully admit to feeling envy and jealousy, they worship popularity and success and are decidedly anti-intellectual; poetry or even art of any kind seems to not interest them at all, and any artefacts mentioned could have been created by aliens for all they seem to care.

Different in depth: Tolkien tried to imagine a whole world from it's Creation, in a way that would make the narrative seem not only deeply meaningful, but also consistent over long time periods, at least if one subscribes to the author's moral values; Rawling's world, it seems, would crumble under the weight of inconsistencies as soon as the reader's attention turns away from the action-packed plot and the never ending wonders of the author's imagination, and the readers start to imagine how a world like that could have existed for centuries. After all, some, if not all, historic societies were supposed to be ruled by either wonder-working priests or god-like rulers, invariably producing domination and enslavement, not the parallel existence of the "wizarding community" with the world of un-magic human beings, and one doesn't have to go back to Bronze Age to find instances of that, either: for example, French and English kings were supposed to have healing power, and priests claim to perform transubstantiation to this day. A world that had wizards would have started as Voldemort's evil world and stayed like that for millennia, as this one did, not just accidentally fallen into that state, only to return to what we modern people think is the norm, as it does in the H.P. saga.

Different in temperament: Tolkien looks at the world as an epic poet would, holding the reader by awe and admiration, almost as much as the plot itself, Rawling's books are almost never go below the Hollywood's lower threshold for action intensity. Talkien's heroes are epic, and so are his villains; Rawling's world, just like the one seen on CNN, seems to have no place for epic heroes, at least outside areas like Afghanistan and Somalia. It has, on the other hand, a lot of place for modern everyday life and the sort of humour that would probably make the Cambridge professor's face stiffen a bit. No exploit of Aragorn, son of Arathorn, could have happened in a lavatory, for just one example, or maybe it would not have made it into the history books of Middle Earth if it had; the grave airs of Tolkien's heroes would have, in Rawling's world, earned them an offer of a treatment for constipation.

Still, I couldn't help remembering Frodo at every step of Harry's adventures, and not just because both are long, perilous quests, shown mainly from the main protagonist's point of view. It seemed to me Potter the Hobbit would not have fared too bad in Middle Earth. It helps that he is also the most grave and tragic person his own story, too.

I think one reason is because Potter books wouldn't have been there, or would not have been as readily understood, if it were not for Tolkien founding the genre a couple of generations before that.

Another, more important, thing the books have in common, seems to be that both authors, for what seems to me similar likely aims, chose to make the reader look at their respective magical worlds through the eyes of relative outsiders, for some reason or other ignorant of some of those worlds' workings. Not incidentally, this provides for easy identification of the reader with the protagonist, and makes the reader feel less intimidated by all the magic; it happens that a crucial role can be played by a person most prominent by non-magic qualities, and helped by love and devotion to the good cause, as much as by magic.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

A translation of Brodski's Nativity Poem by Jamie Olson

The Flaxen Wave: A Nativity Poem by Joseph Brodsky

I rather liked the translation, and would have been greateful for it in any case -- both if I did like it or if I did not: I totally lack the feeling of English that makes one translate "выматывал душу" in a way that would be evocative to English speakers, to take just one example, so I am curious to see anyone try.

However, the rhyme scheme and meter just don't feel the same. My (primitive?) sense of the poem owes much to the way it flows with graceful ease to the beat of the meter; I missed this very much in the translation, but didn't have the gall to write a comment about it: I have missed this in English on other occasions, so, as no one else seems to notice, it must be just me.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

languagehat.com: A DRAFT OF MANDELSTAM.

languagehat.com: A DRAFT OF MANDELSTAM.

An agument about translating a well-known poem into English... Just couldn't resist. I don't have any hopes for the result, but I had tons of fun trying:

Insomnia with Homer. Tightened sales.
I read but half of the enumeration
Of those ships that in a long formation
Flew over Hellas back in those days.

Like pointed line of cranes to alien shores -
The heads of kings are blessed with sacred foam -
Without Helen, why is it you roam?
Oh brave Achaeans, what would Troy be worth?

Like sea, the heroes by love are set in motion.
Who should I listen to? With Homer now mute,
Black sea is bringing forth its foamy dispute,
To my head-rest in thunderous commotion.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Robert Chandler. 'Cardinal Points' literary journal: Platonov and Shalamov

Robert Chandler. 'Cardinal Points' literary journal


The first of Shalamov’s criticisms is that Platonov is too ready to indulge in loose talk about ‘the soul’. Shalamov prepares the ground for this theme in the first paragraph of the story; this is why he alludes to Platonov’s Dzhan. Dzhan is a Persian word that has been adopted by the Turkic languages of Central Asia; its meaning is ‘soul’. The Dzhan, according to Platonov, are able to survive because they have not - in spite of everything - lost their souls. Platonov makes this explicit in a passage from the penultimate chapter...


All this is based on (1) the main character of "Snake Charmer" having the same name as Platonov the writer, and (2) that the name of a mine mentioned in the story ("Djankhara") supposedly reminds the reader about "Djan", a story by Platonov that was published after "Snake Charmer", but that Chandler maintains Shalamov had probably seen or heard about when he was briefly out of prison in the 1930s.

Now a lot of what Chandler writes about so well would be very convincing if we had more direct evidence. But I feel the evidence he cites does not bear it out. After all, a fictional name for a Kolyma mine and the surname of a character (very wide-spread, to be sure) can not really serve as proof. As for apparent indirect references, stranger co-incidences have been observed in the past: R. Leibov has shown that the "Drummers's Tale" by A. Gaidar would appear to referece Pushkin and Plato by the same logic. Of course, Chandler or his learned colleagues could have better evidence that they had not cited or that I have overlooked...

There is also something else: personally -- for what it's worth -- I would doubt Platonov would have been in it at all. I must say I haven't read "Djan"; however, in his short stories and "Chevengur" Platonov seems to be a very different opponent of Shalamov as compared to what Chandler makes him to be. I would expect Platonov's criminals to be almost sympathetic, as opposed to infernal as in Shalamov's stories; Platonov seems to be one with the world and the language, Shalamov consistently takes sides. For me, this appears to mean that, had a literary dispute between the two really happened, it would be about what  is soul, not about the ways to write about it or ways to preserve it.

Friday, August 27, 2010

languagehat.com: LUBERON AND OTHER SHIBBOLETHS.

languagehat.com: LUBERON AND OTHER SHIBBOLETHS.

"An interesting piece by Olivier Razemon in Le Monde about the correct/local ways to pronounce various French place names (it's Luberon avec e comme dans "beurrer," pas comme dans "bébé," and Wissant (Pas-de-Calais) is "Uissant", et non "Vissant", encore moins "Ouissant")."

Les bons gens de montagne
Les gens de Luberon
En disent le "e" comme "beurre"
Et non comme "biberon"

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

languagehat.com: FODDER FOR ALLUSIONS.

Interesting thread on Language Hat that I couldn't fail to comment upon:

languagehat.com: FODDER FOR ALLUSIONS.

What I wanted to add was that, on top of obsession with classic literature, there seems to be an equally noticeable historicism in Soviet culture. For some reason, this seems to have been rarely commented upon.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Ockham’s Razor – a reductionist trap? :: oneiricum

Facebook, on which I was a late newcomer, has led me, via a friend's blog, to an article by Dieter Gernert called "Okham's razor and its improper use" published, among others, by Journal for Scientific Exploration.
Well, when one sees "reductionist" and "materialist" used as many times on a single page, it must have something to do with flying saucers, psi phenomena, or religion. Googling for "reductionist trap"  finds a fair amount of literature on all of the above, and there is nothing wrong with that. Any model that can describe any phenomena should be, in principle, admissible. Not to mention the fact that the motives of the people involved are presumably very respectable. What I have an issue with are  apparent logic leaps to the desired results:  there seems to be a disjunction between the - correct - examples of improper use of the "razor" as proof, and examples of its purported harmful effects.
What Gernert labels as "improper use" of the "razor" is indeed improper: the "razor" (for any of its formulations) definitely proves nothing and can not be used as grounds for refutation of anything. However, this is not to say that the method is invalid. This is where I think Gernert's argument brakes, because the examples of  the "razor" being harmful in the article are, I think, in fact the examples of its good and proper use: it was quite fair to err on the side of caution and not introduce new explanations until the evidence became compelling. It ended up right, after all: Gernert wouldn't be writing about it if it did not.
Here's the rub: the "razor" (however sloppily formulated and used), or any of the rules mentioned by Gernert that could be used instead, are not criteria for choosing the right solution. They are just ways to err less in average when choosing the next working hypothesis in a - potentially - endless chain of them. This is achieved precisely by what the author thinks is the main defect of the method: promoting "orthodoxy". Ptolemaic theory of epicycles is a case in point, as are some of the author's examples of  incorrect explanations having been chosen over the ones that were proved correct later. What Gernert does not emphasize is that the correct ones ended up chosen when the number of facts that contradicted the orthodoxy and could not be explained away achieved a critical mass. In other words, there is nothing wrong with the orthodoxy, as long as people don't get burned at the stake. Another century or two, and recognition, fame, and research grants will all be forthcoming. Or not.

Another thing that strikes me as odd - admittedly, this does not exactly apply to the article, but I have a right to my pet peeves, too - is that the people on crusades against "materialism" and "reductionism" frequently seem to be reductionists themselves. Reducing an event to a few "supernatural" factors in many cases more "reductionist" than trying to find a "natural" explanation from physical science, because modern science is constantly aware of different levels of interactions. Supernatural explanations are, as a rule, exceedingly simple, if vague. Their true value is in replacing the unexplained with the desired and easy to understand. What one sees behind the spiritual smoke and mirrors is usually reducing the world to a few crude forces acting on a grand scale, and going into minute detail about purported effects of those forces; refusing to explain how those forces work does not make the approach address the whole, it merely makes the reductionism simpler. When confronted with objects like the human brain, quite possibly more complex than your average galaxy, this is, to my mind, the crudest reductionism in a lot of the cases.

Retronymy: William Safire - On Language - New York Times

William Safire - On Language - New York Times

When we all first began exploring the wonders of retronymy decades ago, the image of the comedian Sid Caesar appeared on the tiny TV screen, playing an anachronistic doughboy in uniform and tin helmet celebrating the Armistice, shouting in glee, “World War I is over!”
And I found it via this post on Language Hat, about machine translation vs. translation done by an "actual human":

As opposed to ... an intelligent entity that's not an actual human? As we approach the singularity, or whatever, will "human" join the list of retronyms — words that need an adjective for clarity, like analog watch, acoustic guitar, hardcover books, standard transmission?
(comment by Martin)

Friday, April 23, 2010

Gilbert Chesterton: The Man Who Knew Too Much: Chapter IV. The Bottomless Well - Free Online Library

Gilbert Chesterton: The Man Who Knew Too Much: Chapter IV. The Bottomless Well - Free Online Library:

"Do you think England is so little as all that?" said Fisher, with a warmth in his cold voice, "that it can't hold a man across a few thousand miles. You lectured me with a lot of ideal patriotism, my young friend; but it's practical patriotism now for you and me, and with no lies to help it. You talked as if everything always went right with us all over the world, in a triumphant crescendo culminating in Hastings. I tell you everything has gone wrong with us here, except Hastings. He was the one name we had left to conjure with, and that mustn't go as well, no, by God! It's bad enough that a gang of infernal Jews should plant us here, where there's no earthly English interest to serve, and all hell beating up against us, simply because Nosey Zimmern has lent money to half the Cabinet. It's bad enough that an old pawnbroker from Bagdad should make us fight his battles; we can't fight with our right hand cut off. Our one score was Hastings and his victory, which was really somebody else's victory. Tom Travers has to suffer, and so have you."

Then, after a moment's silence, he pointed toward the bottomless well and said, in a quieter tone:
"I told you that I didn't believe in the philosophy of the Tower of Aladdin. I don't believe in the Empire growing until it reaches the sky; I don't believe in the Union Jack going up and up eternally like the Tower. But if you think I am going to let the Union Jack go down and down eternally, like the bottomless well, down into the blackness of the bottomless pit, down in defeat and derision, amid the jeers of the very Jews who have sucked us dry--no I won't, and that's flat; not if the Chancellor were blackmailed by twenty millionaires with their gutter rags, not if the Prime Minister married twenty Yankee Jewesses, not if Woodville and Carstairs had shares in twenty swindling mines. If the thing is really tottering, God help it, it mustn't be we who tip it over."

Well, this was rather commonplace as a political view in pre-war Europe, I suppose... And someone is always after the good old country in Chesterton. Funny that some people even in his time thought these were the Catholics like himself, on top of his list of usual suspects. Then again, Father Brown's villain is frequently a Protestant - when he is not a materialist.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

languagehat.com: THE LITTLE GOLDEN CALF.

languagehat.com: THE LITTLE GOLDEN CALF.

Reading about the adventures of Ilf and Petrov in English translation leaves me with a mixed feeling. On the one hand, I understand how this is terribly interesting for anyone who is studying Soviet culture. The book is indeed revealing in many ways, and was so popular that references to it became a part of the language itself. On the other hand, the admirers of the book seem to forget something that it does not show: two talented provincial journalists making a name for themselves in the capital by ridiculing the downtrodden in a political system that was becoming more and more cruel every day. I don't know if I am correct in noticing some similarity in style between I&P's writings and the journalism of young Trotsky. What I think they have in common is a sincere disdain for people that don't share their point of view, and a naïve faith that their talent, youth, vigor make them closer to the essence of life and gives them a natural right to ridicule those who couldn't - or didn't want to - join the "festival of life" ("праздник жизни", words that they made an idiom).

Friday, February 12, 2010

The Management Myth

The Management Myth

I can't but solidarize with someone kicking the manager when the manager isn't looking, having been mostly on the receiving end of performance management myself.

That disclaimer having been made, I can say that Eckel's (and, even more so, the "New-Yorker" article authors's) - position is something I find very revealing and sympathetic. But I am far from being what you call a disinterested party, and I know it.

And, when I think about that, I can find that modern programmer is actually managed better than your average intellectual worker of the past: we are permitted to keep a semblance of self-respect most of the time. One can say this is what "scientific management" is really about, all the "great manager" myths notwithstanding.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Lotman, Avva, Language Hat: On free verse

languagehat.com

LH is quoting a Live Journal article article :

"What was in the air in the 20th century to make free verse so attractive to authors and readers that was not in the air in, for example, the 19th? I have found nothing but generalities on this subject. "

And this links to this article in Live Journal:

"In the 19th century rhyming was considered a hall-mark of poetry. Novadays this artful aid is less appreciated in Europe, with the major exception of Russia, where poets are supposed to rhyme well to be worthy of their prophetic status. That is only fair because Russia is five centuries behind Europe in introduction of rhyme; it is still a relatively new toy. Others are more used to it and less smitten with it. Why should we rhyme at all? Rhyme is absent in the Bible and in the poetry of the classical period (the lines rhyme only occasionally, rather than by intent). The Greeks knew rhyme, but as a device for rhetorics rather than poetry. Milton castigated rhyme as the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter. Dryden wrote disapprovingly that when, by inundation of the Goths and Vandals into Italy, new languages were brought in, and barbarously mingled with the Latin... a new way of poesy was practiced. In fact, rhyme is even more recent, at least in Europe. Before the 12th century, only the Irish rhymed, for reasons unknown..."

Why isn't anybody quoting Lotman yet, especially on the LJ?