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Thread: Την ίδια ώρα, στην Κίνα...

  1. #601
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    Όχι, Παλάβρα, αυτονόμησέ το. Απλώς, φαντάζομαι με copy-paste, όχι με cut, έτσι δεν είναι;
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  2. #602
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    Πορτρέτο του μεταφραστή του Μο Γιαν, και πολλών άλλων έργων της σύγχρονης κινεζικής λογοτεχνίας, Howard Goldblatt. Ωραίο, αλλά με πολλά λάθη διορθωτή (μερικά τα διορθώσανε μετά το κράξιμο). (Tablet)

    Η Κινέζα συγγραφέας που σαγήνεψε τον Goldblatt και τον έστρεψε στην κινεζική λογοτεχνία, η Xiao Hong, είχε γράψει μεταξύ άλλων κι ένα διήγημα με τίτλο Άνοιξη σε μια μικρή πόλη, που έγινε ταινία δύο φορές, την πρώτη το 1948 [1][2] και τη δεύτερη το 2002 [1][2]. Η δεύτερη αυτή είχε παιχτεί στη χώρα μας το 2003.

    Κάτι πρωτότυπο:
    At the end of her life, she [Xiao Hong] wrote a novel and a sequel about a character by the name of Ma Bole, whose journeys in the book mirrored her own. “There was no question she wanted to make it a trilogy,” he said. Thanks to his efforts, Xaio [=Xiao] Hong’s work has largely been rediscovered in China. Goldblatt hopes to write the concluding volume and have them all translated.
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  3. #603
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    Η ατζέντα αγορών επιχειρήσεων της Β. Αμερικής από τους Κινέζους, κυρίως από τις κρατικές επιχειρήσεις τους, για τα επόμενα χρόνια. (ΝΥΤ)
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  4. #604
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    Προτού η εξέλιξη της επικαιρότητας σκεπάσει λίγο-λίγο με τη σκόνη της την απονομή του βραβείου Νόμπελ Λογοτεχνίας στον Μο Γιαν, ας δούμε κάποια σημεία της ομιλίας του συγγραφέα που προκάλεσαν σχόλια και ερμηνείες. Να πώς έκλεισε την ομιλία του ο Μο Γιαν:

    The announcement of my Nobel Prize has led to controversy. At first I thought I was the target of the disputes, but over time I’ve come to realize that the real target was a person who had nothing to do with me. Like someone watching a play in a theater, I observed the performances around me. I saw the winner of the prize both garlanded with flowers and besieged by stone-throwers and mudslingers. I was afraid he would succumb to the assault, but he emerged from the garlands of flowers and the stones, a smile on his face; he wiped away mud and grime, stood calmly off to the side, and said to the crowd:

    For a writer, the best way to speak is by writing. You will find everything I need to say in my works. Speech is carried off by the wind; the written word can never be obliterated. I would like you to find the patience to read my books. I cannot force you to do that, and even if you do, I do not expect your opinion of me to change. No writer has yet appeared, anywhere in the world, who is liked by all his readers; that is especially true during times like these.

    Even though I would prefer to say nothing, since it is something I must do on this occasion, let me just say this:

    I am a storyteller, so I am going to tell you some stories.

    When I was a third-grade student in the 1960s, my school organized a field trip to an exhibit of suffering, where, under the direction of our teacher, we cried bitter tears. I let my tears stay on my cheeks for the benefit of our teacher, and watched as some of my classmates spat in their hands and rubbed it on their faces as pretend tears. I saw one student among all those wailing children – some real, some phony – whose face was dry and who remained silent without covering his face with his hands. He just looked at us, eyes wide open in an expression of surprise or confusion. After the visit I reported him to the teacher, and he was given a disciplinary warning. Years later, when I expressed my remorse over informing on the boy, the teacher said that at least ten students had done what I did. The boy himself had died a decade or more earlier, and my conscience was deeply troubled when I thought of him. But I learned something important from this incident, and that is: When everyone around you is crying, you deserve to be allowed not to cry, and when the tears are all for show, your right not to cry is greater still.

    Here is another story: More than thirty years ago, when I was in the army, I was in my office reading one evening when an elderly officer opened the door and came in. He glanced down at the seat in front of me and muttered, “Hm, where is everyone?” I stood up and said in a loud voice, “Are you saying I’m no one?” The old fellow’s ears turned red from embarrassment, and he walked out. For a long time after that I was proud about what I consider a gutsy performance. Years later, that pride turned to intense qualms of conscience.

    Bear with me, please, for one last story, one my grandfather told me many years ago: A group of eight out-of-town bricklayers took refuge from a storm in a rundown temple. Thunder rumbled outside, sending fireballs their way. They even heard what sounded like dragon shrieks. The men were terrified, their faces ashen. “Among the eight of us,” one of them said, “is someone who must have offended the heavens with a terrible deed. The guilty person ought to volunteer to step outside to accept his punishment and spare the innocent from suffering. Naturally, there were no volunteers. So one of the others came up with a proposal: Since no one is willing to go outside, let’s all fling our straw hats toward the door. Whoever’s hat flies out through the temple door is the guilty party, and we’ll ask him to go out and accept his punishment.” So they flung their hats toward the door. Seven hats were blown back inside; one went out the door. They pressured the eighth man to go out and accept his punishment, and when he balked, they picked him up and flung him out the door. I’ll bet you all know how the story ends: They had no sooner flung him out the door than the temple collapsed around them.

    I am a storyteller.

    Telling stories earned me the Nobel Prize for Literature.

    Many interesting things have happened to me in the wake of winning the prize, and they have convinced me that truth and justice are alive and well.

    So I will continue telling my stories in the days to come.



    Προφανώς ο real target στον οποίον αναφέρεται στην αρχή είναι ο φυλακισμένος Νομπελίστας Ειρήνης Λίου Ξ(Σ)ιαομπό. Πάμε παρακάτω. Ο Μο Γιαν αφηγείται τρεις ιστορίες, οι οποίες ερμηνεύτηκαν ποικιλοτρόπως. Ας δούμε την ερμηνεία του A.E. Clark, του Ragged Banner Press:

    Toward the end of his speech accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature, Mo Yan offered three "stories" (故事) as his response to the controversy that greeted his selection for the Prize. Falling somewhere along the spectrum between allegory and parable, they can be interpreted in the light of recent events. Controversy focused on Mo Yan's acquiescence (as vice-chairman of the official writers' association) in his government's restraint of speech and its persecution of some writers; and especially on his choice not to protest the imprisonment of Liu Xiaobo, who had been awarded the Nobel Prize for Peace two years before and remains incommunicado.

    _First story_ The year would have been '63 or '64. The "exhibit of suffering" (苦难展览) would have comprised dioramas showing landlords squeezing rent from the poor, serfs being tortured, and similar scenes said to characterize life in China under the old regime. Eight-year-olds will not be emotionally moved by a static depiction of a world they have never experienced. But to meet the expectations of their teacher, he and his classmates feigned grief and horror. The only student who did not put on an act was disciplined after Mo Yan and several other students informed on him. The lesson which the author draws is: "When everyone around you is crying, you deserve to be allowed not to cry, and when the tears are all for show, your right not to cry is greater still."

    Apologists for the Communist Party of China often dismiss foreigners' concern for human rights as a cloak for "China-bashing." Those who appeal on behalf of persecuted writers and lawyers, in this view, do not care about those whose plight they publicize: they merely seek to embarrass China. I interpret this response of Mo Yan to his critics as a fairly blunt statement that he doesn't care what happens to people like Liu Xiaobo and Liu Xia and he doesn't believe anyone else cares either; he is impatient with what he considers hypocrisy and affirms his right to hold aloof from it. That the message is wrapped in a contrite anecdote about the dark side of Maoism is, I think, an artful piece of misdirection.

    _Second story_. One evening when he was in the army, an elderly officer glanced at the (empty) seat in front of Mo Yan and asked, "Where is everyone?" Mo Yan took offense at the implication that he was no one.

    It's hard not to see here a veiled allusion to Liu Xiaobo's empty chair in Oslo and the tendency of many commenters to compare the two prizewinners, seldom to Mo Yan's advantage. If that is correct, then Mo Yan is annoyed that the absent Liu Xiaobo has drawn attention which properly belongs to the present Mo Yan. Complicating this interpretation is the regret which the author says he now feels for the vehemence of his youthful reaction. He could be acknowledging a pique while claiming to rise above it; or -- more cynically -- he might judge that an expression of remorse makes it socially acceptable to give vent to his annoyance.

    _Third story_. There is one scapegoat, who is saved, and seven (many) scapegoaters, who perish. The temple in which the artisans have sought shelter from the storm is "dilapidated" (破庙): that detail sets up the denouement, but it also carries certain connotations for anyone who lived through the assault on the Four Olds. The artisans are guilt-ridden, superstitious, and prone to moralistic judgments.

    I believe this story is directed at those fellow-writers (like him, bricklayers of the word) who have challenged the morality of Mo Yan's support for the regime. The entire moral edifice on which they rely, and from which they claim to cast him out, is in his view flawed and doomed. History will continue to unfold, sometimes full of storms and suffering: personal morality has not caused history and will not change it. If other writers wish to ostracize him, that may be exactly what he needs, and it won't do them any good. He considers himself fortunate to be a pragmatist.



    Ας δούμε τώρα ένα ρεπορτάζ για τις σχετικές συζητήσεις στην Κίνα (Bloomberg News):

    What animated many of the tweets and editorials were three odd parables that Mo told at the end of his lecture, without offering any interpretation of them. In China, where censorship requires astounding feats of metaphor as a matter of daily online life, highly opaque Nobel Prize-quality parables are guaranteed to attract eager problem solvers (if only as literary Sudoku to be solved by weekend’s end).

    All three parables have received some attention, but it is the third one which has China’s netizens in a sort of Talmudic tizzy.

    (...)

    Many microbloggers, likely among them readers of Mo’s novels and the petty cruelties that the powerful inflict on the powerless within them, reasonably sense politics of a sort in the tale, though not the kind of politics that can necessarily be interpreted as a critique of the Communist Party.

    Guo Jing, a reporter and popular host with the state-run China National Radio, took such an approach via a tweet to Sina Weibo, China’s most popular microblog, on Sunday: “Mo Yan demonstrated his political attitude in the last story of his speech: A nation with a mob mentality but without beliefs, a sense of independence, and a spirit of repentance, will earn collective retribution.”

    Li Xingwen, a columnist for Party-owned Beijing Youth Daily, offered two plausible deconstructions that also seem to blame Chinese society, and not the ruling Communist Party, for whatever tragedy the temple collapse represents. He wrote in an editorial on Sunday: “On one hand, the survival or extinction of ‘the one and the seven’ in the damaged temple suggests that society has its own justice and evil can’t escape a final judgment; on the other hand, the story is about democracy at a crossroads: The majority’s tyrannical policies were stupid and they finally ate their own bitter fruit. Via these three stories Mo Yan showed his viewpoint: never follow the crowd, never protest for show, and never encroach on personal freedom in the name of the majority.”

    Not every interpretation is quite so flattering to Mo, or to the Communist Party. Indeed, across Weibo -- and in less obvious ways, in Chinese newspapers -- the Chinese seem genuinely conflicted about how to interpret their new Nobelist’s tale. In a Saturday tweet by Weibo user Kai Yan, Mo is both a Communist Party pawn and a satirist whose subject-matter is China’s all-powerful Politburo Standing Committee: “Mo Yan’s prize was controversial and recently he supported censorship. He was also condemned by the global media for not joining those who support Xiaobo’s release. However, his acceptance speech was interesting. One story in his speech was about eight masons who took shelter from rain in a temple … this is an obvious satire of the Communist Party’s court intrigues.”

    It’s obvious to Kai Yan, at least. For others, it remains a cryptic curiosity. Still, for all the discussion of Mo’s politics, there’s an undeniable online consensus that China’s first literary Nobelist should be left to do his work without having to answer such questions (especially when posed by foreign media). Most online commentators are more concerned with the first half of the lecture, in which he offers elegiac remembrances of his mother and hometown and how they made him the man -- and the writer -- he is today.

    One popular tweet, later forwarded thousands of times on Sina Weibo (most notably it was quoted in a Sina Weibo tweet by Kai-fu Lee, former president of Google China, and then forwarded by his followers), sums up the sentiment: “I have not read Mo Yan’s books, but after listening to his speech I know why he would win. He has a good mother and extended family, he’s honest and kind-hearted, he has a life of hardship and rich experience, he is good at observing and remembering … he is a calm and ordinary Chinese.”



    Είναι φανερό λοιπόν, σε μένα τουλάχιστον, ότι ο Μο Γιαν πέτυχε να αποδείξει το βασικό: ότι ξέρει να λέει συναρπαστικές ιστορίες που κάνουν το κοινό να κρέμεται απ' τα χείλια του και να συζητά το βαθύτερο νόημά τους, ιστορίες βγαλμένες απ' την παλιά κινεζική λογοτεχνική παράδοση (Mo Yan’s writing harked back to earlier modes of Chinese folktales. “They weren’t new in Chinese literature; they were new in modern Chinese literature,” Goldblatt said.). Όπερ έδει δείξαι, προκειμένου περί ενός βραβείου λογοτεχνίας. Τώρα, το αν έπρεπε να διαλέξουν αυτόν ή αν, λόγω πολιτικού κωλύματος, έπρεπε να τον κόψουν και να δώσουν το βραβείο σε κάποιον άλλον, αυτό είναι θέμα που δεν απασχολεί πια τον ίδιον...
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  5. #605
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    Ο Σουηδός Magnus Fiskesjö, σ' ένα σχόλιό του προ ημερών αναφέρθηκε με πολύ θετικό τρόπο σ' ένα βιβλίο με τίτλο Obedient Autonomy, που ενδιαφέρει τους αρχαιολόγους και τους κοινωνικούς ανθρωπολόγους, ου μην αλλά και τους σινολογούντες, οπότε σκέφτηκα να βάλω το λινκ προς μια παρουσίαση του βιβλίου. (China Perspectives)
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  6. #606
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    Μια βραδιά με τον Howard Goldblatt (βίντεο)

    He [Mo Yan] writes in Chinese for Chinese; and makes it very very difficult for those of us who translate him to other languages to...to translate! (...) Mine [=my rendering of the novel's title: Life and Death are Wearing me Out] was the best sounding and the farthest away from the original! (...) If you like Dickens, you're gonna love Mo Yan (…) We have pruned some of them, 'we' meaning editors and publishers [his long novels] (…) [for his last novel before he got the prize] I got 1200 dollars to translate a 500 page novel (εξαιτίας χρεοκοπίας. Κανονικά, η προκαταβολή θα ήταν 7500-15% η προμήθεια του ατζέντη, το υπόλοιπο δια 2 μεταξύ του συγγραφέα και του ιδίου, άρα 3188)

    Συζητάει επίσης τους προβληματισμούς του για τους τίτλους των βιβλίων.

    Translation theory is sort of like trying to analyze how your knee works walking downstairs: you're gonna fall.
    Domestication/Foreignization: “You’re not going to get a foreignized text past an editor” [εκτός κι αν είσαι ο Nabokov] “And when an editor sends me back an unmarked text I begin to get very very nervous” (εδώ σας στέλνουν τίποτα πίσω;…) «I don’t want to be out there naked; I want some help” Με τις πραγματικά ξένες γλώσσες (κινέζικα, γιαπωνέζικα, αραβικά) πρέπει να γράψεις ελεύθερα, αλλιώς χάθηκες. Να πας παράγραφο παράγραφο και ν’ αλλάζεις ό,τι πρέπει, αλλιώς δεν γίνεται. “The single most obvious spot where this happens is in chengyu, so you can say ‘when the dragon soars and the phoenix farts’ or you can say what it means. I have done both. And sometimes I do both at the same time” “I’m putting untranslated words like dieh, instead of dad or pa or whatever”, γιατί είναι καιρός να βάλουμε κινέζικες λέξεις στα αγγλικά, όπως έχουμε κάνει με τα γιαπωνέζικα (τατάμι κττ.) «διάβασα πρόσφατα ένα ινδικό βιβλίο κι είχε εκατοντάδες ινδικές λέξεις αμετάφραστες, φαγητά και ρούχα, και δεν με πείραζε καθόλου (that’s foreignization), στο κάτω-κάτω σήμερα έχουμε το ίντερνετ, μπορείς να κοιτάξεις ό,τι θες». Μετά εξετάζει το πρόβλημα της απόδοσης των κύριων ονομάτων, που σχεδόν πάντα κάτι σημαίνουν.Μιλάει για τη χρήση διαλέκτων (ο Ezra Pound είχε χρησιμοποιήσει black Southern dialect για το Book of Songs!), για τα ρέτζιστερς, για τις ομοιοκαταληξίες στα οπερατικά κομμάτια.»

    Στις εύκολες γλώσσες με πολλούς μεταφραστές πληρώνουν με τη λέξη, 110 δολλάρια τις 1000 λέξεις. That’s why they say “keep a day job”. Στις σπάνιες: έχω δουλέψει 50-50, 20-80 με τον συγγραφέα• όχι επί των πωλήσεων, αλλά επί της προκαταβολής. ΠΟΤΕ δεν έχουμε κερδίσει από δικαιώματα επί των πωλήσεων το ποσό της προκαταβολής π.χ. 20.000 δολάρια. Βέβαια με τον Μο Γιαν αυτό θ’ αλλάξει τώρα. Αλλά βέβαια έτσι κι αλλιώς δεν θα έχω 50-50 μαζί του! Συνήθως παίρνω εφάπαξ, μεταξύ 10 και 30 χιλ δολ, έχω πάρει και περισσότερα, πολύ πιο συχνά και λιγότερα. Αναφέρει και την Ελλάδα σαν μια από τις χώρες όπου δεν υπάρχουν μεταφραστές από τα κινέζικα ή υπάρχουν αλλά δεν είναι αρκετά καλοί ή κάνουν άλλες δουλειές από μετάφραση λογοτεχνίας και επομένως μεταφράζουν δυστυχώς από τα αγγλικά. (Πού στο διάολο μας θυμήθηκε, απ’ όλες τις χώρες;) Οπότε πληρώνουν τα τελείως λιγότερα, αφού όλοι γνωρίζουν αγγλικά. Προτιμώ να μεταφράζω πεθαμένους συγγραφείς, αλλά δυστυχώς τώρα ζουν πολλά χρόνια! Εκτός κι αν είναι απολύτως απαραίτητο δεν ξαναδιαβάζω ποτέ τις μεταφράσεις μου μετά τη δημοσίευσή τους, γιατί ξέρω ότι θα…φρίξω. Τη δεκαετία του ’90, μόλις 3% των λογοτεχνικών βιβλίων στις ΗΠΑ ήταν μεταφράσεις. Μια ανθολογία κινεζικών διηγημάτων, που της βρήκανε τον πιο πιασάρικο τίτλο (Mao wouldn’t be amused with this) και το πιο κραχτικό εξώφυλλο (πάλι με τον Μάο) πούλησε 15000 αντίτυπα σε 15 χρόνια, which is good. Τα βιβλία μένουν 2 βδομάδες στο βιβλιοπωλείο, μετά τελειώσανε, επιστρέφονται. Το ποσοστό επιστροφής είναι 50%. Σ’ ένα βιβλίο που λεγόταν Παλιοί Τόποι του εκδότη δεν του άρεσε και το ‘κανε Ασημένια Πόλη, και το επόμενο βιβλίο που έγραψε ο συγγραφέας είχε κατά τύχη τον τίτλο Ιστορίες της Ασημένιας Πόλης! Now what?
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  7. #607
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    (Goldblatt κάπου στο προηγούμενο βίντεο): "Όταν παινεύουν τη γλώσσα του συγγραφέα, θέλω να πεταχτώ και να φωνάξω That's me!" Το γράφω τώρα γιατί σ' ένα αρνητικό άρθρο της Anna Sun για τη γλώσσα του Mo Yan λέει και το εξής:

    The English translations of Mo Yan’s novels, especially by the excellent Howard Goldblatt, are in fact superior to the original in their aesthetic unity and sureness. The blurb for The Republic of Wine from Washington Post says: “Goldblatt’s translation renders Mo Yan’s shimmering poetry and brutal realism as work akin to that of Gorky and Solzhenitsyn.” But in fact, only the “brutal realism” is Mo Yan’s; the “shimmering poetry” comes from a brilliant translator’s work.

    Το άρθρο αυτό έχει και μια λίστα από ονόματα Κινέζων συγγραφέων του 20ού και του 21ου αιώνα, για τους ενδιαφερομένους. Βεβαίως άλλοι της απαντούν ότι δεν έχει δίκιο για τη γλώσσα του Μο Γιαν.
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  8. #608
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    Ένα ωραία συμπυκνωμένο 8λεπτο βίντεο για τον Άι Ουέι Ουέι, τη ζωή του, την τέχνη του, το ντοκιμαντέρ γι' αυτόν που γύρισε η Alison Klayman, στο οποίο είχε αναφερθεί προ καιρού ο daeman, τον ακτιβισμό του. (PBS)
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  9. #609
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    The Rehabilitation of Pearl Buck, του Peter Conn (China File).
    [Αναφέρει και τη φαιδρή εκείνη ιστορία με το κολοσσικό άγαλμα του Κομφούκιου που στήθηκε χωρίς σχόλια στην πλατεία Τιεν Αν Μεν και μετά εξαφανίστηκε πάλι χωρίς σχόλια.]
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

  10. #610
    Senior Member Costas's Avatar
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    Άρθρο του Lucas Klein (Notes on the Mosquito), συγγραφέα και μεταφραστή, με λινκ για την υπόθεση Μο Γιαν (γιατί πρέπει πια να μιλάμε για 'υπόθεση'), με ένα ενδιαφέρον στοιχείο --πέρα από την 'αρχειοθέτηση' των λινκ--: αμφισβητεί την είδηση ότι ο Μο Γιαν υπερασπίστηκε τη λογοκρισία, λέγοντας ότι η λέξη που χρησιμοποίησε σημαίνει απλώς έλεγχος (check)· παραθέτει και το πρωτότυπο. Θέτει επίσης ένα γενικότερο ζήτημα ανακριβών αποδόσεων από τα κινεζικά προς τα αγγλικά, που χρωματίζουν τα λεγόμενα ανάλογα με τις επιθυμίες των ΜΜΕ.

    [Όσο για τη μετάφραση του Goldblatt στην ιστορία με την άδεια καρέκλα, που επίσης την παραθέτει δίγλωσση, με εντυπωσίασε η ελευθερία του. Πιστός στο νόημα, ξαναγράφει το κείμενο. Βέβαια ίσως έτσι που το γράφω να ακούγεται μπανάλ, αλλά στα συγκεκριμένα δεν είναι. Θα μπορούσε αυτό να οφείλεται και στο ότι πρόκειται για κείμενο προφορικής διάλεξης, αλλά, με βάση τα όσα έλεγε στο βίντεο που λινκάρισα προχτές πιο πάνω, έτσι (και περισσότερο) πρέπει να δουλεύει και στο γραφτό.]
    Τας λεωφόρους οδούς φεύγων επί τας ατραπούς βάδιζε, αψευδεῖ δε προς άκμονι χάλκευε γλῶσσαν.
    Εμπληξία γαρ η άλογος φιλανθρωπία.
    Souffle sur tes braises pour rester vivant.

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