August 28, 2012

Lost in translation

No, no voy a hablar de la película de ese mismo nombre con Scarlett Johanson y Bill Murray.
Nunca les ha pasado que comienzan a un libro en otro idioma y como que no tienen ganas de leer así que deciden buscarlo en español (que es mi idioma nativo)? Pues a mi sí. Usualmente prefiero los libros en su idioma original si es que lo conozco lo suficiente, pero a veces no tengo ganas de leer y me da por buscarlos en español. También los busco en  español cuando necesito creer que estoy leyendo más rápido. Digo "creer que" porque han habido veces en que me toma más tiempo leer 1 libro en español que varios en inglés y viceversa.
Dado que estoy en el curso de Fantasía y Ciencia ficción en Coursera me toca leer bastante todas las semanas y hasta ahora he tenido la suerte de estar familiarizada con los libros asignados (Quien no conoce algo de los hermanos Grimm o de Edgar Allan Poe? Quien no sabe algo de Alicia en su país de las maravillas o de los famosos Conde Drácula y el mounstro de Frankestein?). Pero el periodo de historias familiares se está acabando. De hecho esta semana me tocó leer un autor nuevo: Nathaniel Hawthorne y esta semana me toca leer H.G. Wells, que aunque no es desconocido para mí, no estoy familiarizada con su obra. 
Luego de esta introducción sin sentido aparente, voy al punto principal de este post sin sentido: La diferencia entre el contenido original y el traducido. Debo recalcar que no tengo nada en contra de las traducciones, es más estoy a favor de llevar todo tipo de libros a la mayor cantidad de público posible y las traducciones son fundamentales en este objetivo. Pero a la hora de emitir un juicio crítico sobre el estilo de un autor y/o de apreciar por completo su obra prefiero el texto en su forma original.
La razón de esta preferencia es que al momento de traducir siento que se pierde algo de la esencia de la historia. Como mencioné en un post anterior, la experiencia de leer El cuervo de Poe en Inglés es completamente distinta a leer el mismo poema en español. En inglés yo percibí mejor los sentimientos del narrador.  Para mí no es lo mismo leer:
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
 Que leer:
 "¡Profeta! -grité-, ser malvado, profeta eres, diablo alado!
Por el Dios que veneramos, por el manto celestial,
dile a este desventurado si en el Edén lejano
a Leonor, ahora entre ángeles, un día podré abrazar".
Dijo el cuervo: "¡Nunca más!".

Se podría argumentar que depende del traductor y su dominio de los idiomas y las expresiones idiomáticas, pero aunque la traducción sea lo más fiel posible al original, siempre se pierde algo de lo que el autor quería decir, porque ciertas expresiones carecen de sentido fuera de su contexto original (idioma, cultura, época, público al que está dirigido).

August 24, 2012

The Raven

One of my favorite of Poe's work is The Raven which, up until now, I had never read in Spanish. I must confess that I like the original much more than the translation, I believe something gets lost when translating. So I proceed to transcribe the original poem here as you can find in the book The Portable Poe (which you can find in this link provided in my coursera class).


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“ ’Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
 For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“ ’Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
 That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;
— Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
 And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,  “Lenore!”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
 Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never—nevermore.’ ”

But the raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore; 
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
 On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!


Hawthorne & Poe

Esta semana me toca leer  4 historias cortas de Hawthorne y 3 poemas y  unas cuantas historias de Poe.
Poe es uno de mis autores favoritos y he leido muchas de sus obras, pero es la primera vez que leo algo de Nathaniel Hawthorne y hasta el momento, las historias que he leido me han gustado bastante y las encuentro muy similares en estilo a Poe
Edgar Allan Poe
Nathaniel Hawthorne

August 16, 2012

Frankenstein otra vez

Y esta semana la lectura para el  curso de fantasía y ciencia ficción de coursera es Frankenstein. Hace algunos años me leí este libro cómo pueden constatar en un post anterior y en aquella ocasión me tomo mucho tiempo terminarlo. Me toca re leerlo para buscar un tema adecuado y poder hacer un ensayo constructivo.
Debo ser sincera la ocasión anterior el libro me aburrió y es por eso que me tomo casi un año poder terminarlo y aunque tengo la idea para la tarea de esta semana ( relacionar el título "El moderno Prometeo"  con los experimentos de Frankenstein) me gustaría poder profundizar esto y encontrar partes del texto que me ayuden a sustentar la comparación. El problema es que el ensayo de para el Martes y aún no he leído mucho de el libro.

August 12, 2012

Interview with a vampire

It was very late at night and in a luxury hotel room two people were sitting in front of a table, with a smartphone between them set to record what was being said
-"Wow, this is such an honor, one doesn't get to know vampires exist and get an interview with the most famous of them ever"- said the woman.
-"I imagine so, vampires usually don't want to be known"- replied the vampire-"We like the fact that stories about us are considered fiction and folklore, that we don't exist but in the mind of authors or the middle of legends"
- "I don't even know where to begin... How did you become a vampire?"
-"It's complicated, and something I don't like to talk about, but I'll tell you that your authors only guessed part of it"
-"Ok, next question. Count, how do you feel about Bram Stoker's book?"
-"Stoker had a good imagination. I don't know if he even imagined there was a vampire Dracula, but the rest of the story was all him. It's not that I belong to the romanticized idea of vampire it's that what he wrote is fiction. Reading it is the same as if you read a book in which one of the main characters has your name"

-"What about vampire movies? Do you like them?"
-"I like several of them, I find them amusing. Human pretending to be vampires it's funny for me. As for movies about Dracula, it's interesting to see how will they depict Stoker's character"
-"You say Stoker's character... you don't feel identified with him?"
-"Do you feel identified with everybody that shares your name? It's the same here"- he paused as if pondering -"and yet sometimes I do feel like it's about me"
-"What's your favorite Dracula depiction then?"
-"There have been so many of them and I like some, of course one of those is the Bela Lugosi one, but there are others like the one by Gary Oldman. I'm not even remotely like those characters but those are good ones"
-"I have this question that's been cause of debate. Are you Vlad Tepes?"
-"No, I just took the name after I became what I am. In a way I wanted to pay homage to a great leader of his time. I'm indeed a nobleman and from the same general area as him."
-"Are there other vampires?"
-"Yes, but only a few remain and you will never know who or where they are"
-"You used the word 'remain' were they killed by hunters? are there hunters?"
-"We are not completely immortal, there are several ways of killing us and for us to end our existence if eternity becomes too unbearable. When you're a mortal, living forever has it's appeal but when you realize what it really means you become aware it can be hell"
-"What happens when you go out in the sun? Do you burst into flame? get hurt? sparkle? "
-"Nothing, I can walk in the sun and only faeries sparkle, Stephenie Meyers must have been delusional when she wrote that. Sunlight has no effect on us, but depending on age it can diminish our powers. The bursting into flame when in sunlight, having no reflection and several other myths were things we invented to protect ourselves"
-"I see...So it's there a way to know a vampire?"
-"Only if you are one"
-"At the beginning you said vampires like secrecy, so why grant me this interview? Why tell me the truth about vampires?"
-"Because when you publish this interview, as I know you will, it will be dismissed as fiction, but you... you will be wiser. You wanted to know for the sake of knowing not to use that information against us. Dawn it's approaching and we both need our sleep so you have to be on your way"
-"I still have a million questions, but I understand this was a one time opportunity for which I thank you deeply Count." - said the woman gathering her things and leaving.
Enhanced by Zemanta

August 09, 2012

Dracula (again)

Nuevamente estoy leyendo Drácula, pero no avanzo de los primeros capitulos. La primera vez que leí Drácula lo hice en español, ahora lo estoy haciendo en inglés. Debo confesar que no me gustó mucho este libro, tal vez debido a que me gusta más la historia desde la perspectiva del vampiro, tal vez porque ya tenia la imagen de los vampiros de Anne Rice grabada en mi mente, tal vez porque sentí que los protagonistas eran los demás personajes y no Drácula.

Llevo aproximadamente 1 semana leyendo y no he pasado del capitulo 2 cuando otros libros los leo en cuestion de días y en algunos casos en cuestion de horas y me pregunto ¿Qué pasó, por qué me niego a darle otra oportunidad a este vampiro legendario? ¿Por qué permito que la imagen del conde presentada por otros medios (series y peliculas) se sobrepone a la del libro y hace que espere algo completamente distinto?