Mike, Have my messages been coming through? I'm wondering if that is a blessing in disguise....if they aren't..... I had written several things...all stupid of course but I had written.... have they come through? They have not come to my computer? Anon Sweet Saint.... (I've got something for the anointing) J ----- Original Message ----- From: Mike Godwinmailto:mnemonic@gmail.com To: weeklong-lmailto:weeklong-l@lists.wikimedia.org Sent: Wednesday, May 05, 2010 1:39 PM Subject: [Weeklong-l] Everything and Nothing translations
Just in case anyone was wondering why I prefer one translation of the Borges story over another, even though Borges is commonly thought to be so clear in his prose as to be "transparent" in translation:
Here's some text for comparison. To get a feel for the differences, it helps to read these two translations out loud.
Everything and Nothing By Jorge Luis Borges
James E. Irby (in LABYRINTHS):
There was no one in him; behind his face (which even through the bad paintings of those times resembles no other) and his words, which were copious, fantastic and stormy, there was only a bit of coldness, a dream dreamt by no one. At first he thought that all people were like him, but the astonishment of a friend to whom he had begun to speak of this emptiness showed him his error and made him feel always that an individual should not differ in outward appearance. Once he thought that in books he would find a cure for his ill and thus he learned the small Latin and less Greek a contemporary would speak of; later he considered that what he sought might well be found in an elemental rite of humanity, and let himself be initiated by Anne Hathaway one long June afternoon....
Anthony Kerrigan (in A PERSONAL ANTHOLOGY):
There was no one in him; behind his face (even the poor paintings of the epoch show it to be unlike any other) and his words (which were copious, fantastic and agitated) there was only a bit of cold, a dream not dreamed by anyone. At first he thought that everyone was like him. But the dismay shown by a comrade to whom he mentioned this vacuity revealed his error to him and made him realize forever that an individual should not differ from the species. At one time it occurred to him that he might find a remedy for his difficulty in books, and so he learned the "small Latin and less Greek" of which a contemporary spoke. Later, he considered he might find what he sought in carrying out one of the elemental rites of humanity, and so he let himself be initiated by Anne Hathaway one long afternoon in June....
--m
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