Those letters mirror the turbulent politics of the time and articulate an attempt to narrate otherness and the way it kept challenging their gaze. The translation of the letters has posed some challenges, especially on a stylistic level. In order to confer a sense of historical authenticity on the target-language text and to attend to the stylistic features of the source-language text, the translator has been forced to revisit the Portuguese language of the period as it was spoken and written by the urban middle class in Lisbon.
In this article I discuss some of the issues, both theoretical and practical, that have arisen in the course of the translation process. Martin This article can be freely reproduced under Creative Commons License. The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page. During my research for the British Travellers in Portugal project — an ambitious initiative that has been carried out for almost three decades by the Anglo-Portuguese Studies group at the Centre for English, Translation and Anglo-Portuguese Studies Lisbon and Oporto —, I chanced upon a rather curious collection of letters housed at the National Archives in Kew.
Originally, the primary purpose of my undertaking was to contribute to an anthology of translated accounts of the city of Lisbon by British travellers. This meant that a considerable portion of the original text, most of it dwelling on private affairs or matters of commerce, would have to be excised in order to leave only those passages where explicit references were made to the Portuguese capital. However, it soon became evident that the scope of the content of these letters called for a differentiated approach and so the editor commissioned me to translate the complete set.
The investment in an unabridged translation would give readers the opportunity not just to satisfy their curiosity about Lisbon, but above all to gain a sense of the complexity of the historical, social and economic issues with which the letters engaged, all the more so because translation is not about impoverishing the original, but about giving it a new lease of life: This would allow us to preserve the integrity of the letters and, given the fact that the Revista is aimed at a scholarly readership historians, philologists, cultural anthropologists, sociologists, and so on , to invest in a more detailed and in-depth approach, marked by philological accuracy and by a consciousness of the challenges posed by the hermeneutical inquiry.
This would also give me the opportunity to set my own translation agenda, not just in terms of style and method, but also in terms of the future of this project. As a matter of fact, the files contain dozens of other letters and papers written by other members or friends of the family which, in view of their historical value, are also worth translating.
I decided to amass all of them with the aim of publishing the whole collection in one single volume. That work is now underway. Since translation is necessarily always a reflexive process in more than one sense: The next section seeks to set the letters in their political, social and economic context. The meanings they contain are rooted in a specific historical setting, which has to be revisited so as to enable the text to function simultaneously as a piece of documentary evidence and as an instance of resistance: The Farrers were one among many of the local families whose lives revolved around the woollen and worsted manufacture and trade in Yorkshire.
The success of their business went hand in hand with the economic growth and technological development of the period, a process which would leave an indelible mark on the landscape of the Midlands and the North of England. The Yorkshire region soon became the chief export centre for manufactured woollen goods. In a world of cut-throat competition, those who succeeded in business were of an unrelenting entrepreneurial and ambitious spirit that often looked beyond the confines of Britain. Industrial expansion forced traders to look further afield and open up new markets; Portugal swiftly became a key destination.
It was only through Lisbon that it was possible to gain access to the Brazilian market, which had long become the mainstay of the intensive southern Atlantic economy, responsible for the capitalisation of the European market in the Early Modern period. Besides, the Portuguese could not afford to lose the support of the old ally, whose navy provided protection for the trade routes between the metropolis and its colonies. The French invasions of Portugal pushed it to the periphery of the very empire it had founded.
If the demise of both commerce and industry had a terrible impact on the economy, the destruction the war wrought in the provinces proved no less damaging. Looting, extortion and massacres left a trail of blood, hatred and revulsion across the whole nation that was to remain unabated for generations.
Agriculture and husbandry practically ground to a halt and farmers were unable to produce the foodstuffs required to feed the urban centres. Famine set in and with it a period of demographic stagnation. Freeing Portugal from the chains of Napoleonic imperialism was not without its costs. Unable to overcome such complete vulnerability, the nation was at the mercy of British interests. Certainly a significant part of the Portuguese economy had for a long time depended on Britain. Whether Portugal benefited from this trade relationship or not is a matter of controversy Borges de Macedo ; Bethell ; Maxwell ; Pijning ; Pardo However, at least since the Methuen Treaty Britain had been undermining the Portuguese industry with a substantial influx of cheap manufactured goods undercutting all competition.
In January the opening of the Brazilian ports to Britain represented a fatal blow. Two years later, the protective mechanism of customs duties was removed precisely when the Portuguese economy was most in need of it. The prospects for the manufacturing sector grew dimmer as British cotton and wool cloths flooded the Portuguese market. He ended up gaining considerable ascendancy over the representatives of the Prince Regent.
In the post-war years he headed the military government, a position which rapidly eroded his earlier prestige as a war hero. People started protesting against the way public funds were being squandered to pay for the presence of British troops on national territory. Portuguese officers likewise harboured deep-seated resentment towards the British officers, who were now apparently being granted all sorts of privileges and promotions see Glover As a stern defender of Tory absolutism, his views were in line with the ones shared by two other Anglo-Irish potentates, namely Wellington and Castlereagh Newitt His absolutist values, along with his thirst for power, left him isolated in a world riven by deep-rooted hatreds.
Paradoxically, partly thanks to the influence of the British officers, the British tradition of liberalism ended up taking root in a country lacking in ideological coordinates to define its political future. When James Hutchinson first set foot in Lisbon, the country was going through a period of economic depression. His letters mirror the upheavals and the social unrest of the period and therefore help to shed light on historical processes, since they testify to the way in which individuals perceived reality and re acted accordingly.
Popular reactions to the new king, news of the uprising in Pernambuco Brazil , political persecutions, and hangings are well documented elsewhere,  but here we are given a view from the inside. Moreover, rather than just affirming the picture that the extensive historiographical literature on the subject has already established, the letters also disclose new facets.
Hutchinson could hardly be said to be the definitive model of the successful businessman. His efforts, nonetheless, were mostly undermined by factors that lay beyond his reach. General poverty, scarcity of money, shortages of food and other essentials, and rationing, for example, became recurrent, if not obsessive, subjects in his letters, betraying his sense of frustration and underachievement. Moreover, Hutchinson was forced to deal with fierce competition within the Portuguese market and the incompetence of the Customs officials, not to mention liabilities and bad debts, marketing obstacles and, curiously enough, an increasingly demanding clientele, all of which imposed psychological costs he found ever more difficult to cope with.
Each letter contains, as it were, the very essence of history and, through the picturesque and sometimes disconcerting episodes they feature, they help us recreate a reality long buried by time. Precisely because this is a genuine voice that has remained hidden amidst other archival material for almost two centuries, unscathed by later misappropriations or misinterpretations, we are able to salvage pristine fragments of the historical experience and to retrieve for our collective memory some of the particularities and singularities that are usually overlooked in the construction of the historical grand narratives of the nation.
In a letter dated 18 October , for instance, Hutchinson speaks of the funeral ceremonies of Queen Maria I and clearly enjoys recounting the peculiar causes of the accidental fire that burned down the church where those ceremonies were being held. Elsewhere he laments the shortage of foodstuffs and the rise in prices which mercilessly strike the poor letter dated 25 January , but he cannot help relishing the story of a woman arrested for stealing bodies from the cemetery to produce black pudding to be sold to the local shops 9 August Notwithstanding the rapid decline of the Portuguese economy during and after the Peninsular War, British traders rapidly resumed their investments in the country.
It would be up to young James Hutchinson Jr. His inexperience notwithstanding, James was not entirely at a loss. The need to account for every transaction and to keep his brother-in-law posted about how business was being conducted resulted in a correspondence of considerable length, which lasted until his departure from Lisbon at the end of Being an outsider in customs, language and feelings, Hutchinson tried hard to accommodate himself to his new setting.
In his letters, however, the affectionate attachment he exhibits towards his sister and the other members of his family indicates that his stay in Lisbon was, emotionally speaking, hard to bear. He often complained about her silence and the fact that she now seemed to have forsaken him altogether.
But then, it was not just the separation from his loved ones that threw him into a state of melancholy. His life in the Portuguese capital was infused with a sense of estrangement he was unable to overcome. He felt uprooted and disengaged. It becomes all too apparent that his gaze is that of an outsider, of someone struggling to succeed in a strange, disturbing world, whose social and political environment contrasts in many respects with that of his native land.
He soon realised it would not be easy to fit in. Despite the support that other British expatriates residing in Lisbon gave him, he complained to his family about living conditions there. His difficulty in understanding the Portuguese is particularly visible when he is faced with the lack of patriotic fervour of the man in the street, a fervour one should expect from a nation that had been recently freed from the Napoleonic terror:.
Since most of the time he was consumed by work, it becomes difficult for the contemporary reader to detect such feelings of estrangement in the midst of commercial jargon and ledger accounts. He sought to be meticulous in his book-keeping and reports and sensitive to changes in market conditions, especially as far as fashion, trends, tastes and purchasing power went.
He struggled to prove himself worthy of the trust and respect not just of his brother-in-law, but also of other foreign merchants who had already established their names in the Portuguese market. He even got carried away by the idea of opening his own establishment in order to fend off competition and to tackle the problem of low bids, which often forced him to keep the bales in store for unusually long periods of time.
In order to perceive how displaced he felt, one has to read between the lines. When his enthusiasm waned or his health gave way, an undeclared anxiety and irritation would surface. His less than flattering comments on Portuguese customs officials and the tone of his replies to his brother-in-law whenever suspicion of laxness or mismanagement hung in the air prove the point.
He became impatient when ships from Brazil, New York or Falmouth were unduly delayed. He was unnerved by the negligence of long-standing debtors, who often turned a deaf ear to his entreaties. Besides, in spite of the considerable sums of money that passed through his hands, James was far from leading an easy and comfortable life. In a sense, it was through his own body that he first measured the degree of his maladjustment. He was constantly ill, poorly dressed, and found his lodgings uncomfortable.
The weather did not suit him and he feared death might creep up on him. He would wear the same clothes for months on end, winter and summer alike. Disease would take hold of him and he would be confined to bed for several weeks. His neat copperplate handwriting would then degenerate to illegible scribbling. Convinced that he was no longer fit for the job, he would then ask Thomas to let Ambrose Pollett, a friend of the family, replace him in the firm.
His physical condition would not let him endure another winter in Lisbon. To him Lisbon, thus, ended up representing the proximity of death, that ultimate moment of displacement. His fears, however, were unfounded and he went back to England where he remained in convalescence, before returning to Portugal. But once more the climate did not agree with him. In the course of his stay, James was badly in need of a focal point to keep things in perspective and letter writing served such a purpose. More than anything else, it allowed him to keep his sense of belonging alive.
These letters ended up being the only bridge not just to his origins, but above all to his own identity. This sentimentality towards his family is in marked contrast with his attitude as an observer. Although Hutchinson cannot entirely detach himself emotionally from what he witnesses, there is a kind of Verfremdungseffekt in his writing, a journalistic objectification of the topics he covers, whereby the distance between himself and the other is never to be entirely spanned.
Translating something as intimate and confidential as private letters has the potential to border on voyeurism. It raises issues that concern the ethics of translation, since the translator, unlike the casual reader, is supposed to leave no stone unturned in his struggle to reach communicative effectiveness. In this sense, translation is to be viewed as an act of intrusion and, simultaneously, of extrusion in other words a disclosure and a close examination of that which pertains to the private sphere.
The former constitutes a form of violation , of disrupting that which belongs to the realm of the confessional and becoming, to borrow the words of St. Nevertheless, such violence is mitigated by the transmutational properties of time. Over time, these texts have acquired the status of archaeological evidence, which does not necessarily mean that in this respect the position of the translator is less delicate.
After all, he was not the addressee of the letters and that fact alone poses some problems. An outsider may find it difficult to penetrate the referential fabric of the letters. Unlike travel accounts or autobiographies written for publication, these texts were not intended for a wide readership. They were personal in tone and content, and the writer knew what responses to expect from his only reader living across the English Channel. The writer did not project an ideal or fictional reader to whom he might grant full right of access to the world recreated in his prose.
As a consequence, his world remains sealed off from a larger audience and the translator is forced to break into the textual space like a trespasser. Implicatures lie hidden within this corpus of letters but they can never be entirely unravelled: Such implicatures, one must not forget, are a symptom of the close relationship existing between the two correspondents. Implicit meanings result from a common experience, excluding other readers.
Fortunately, the text in question is generally far more objective and factual than one would suppose, and this alone gives the translator significant leverage over the hidden aspects of the correspondence. It is in the terrain of factuality and narrativity that the translator moves free from major constraints, although it is certain that the faithfulness of the representation can never be taken for granted see Polezzi What we get instead is a myriad of disparate images that can hardly be coalesced into one single picture.
The reason is obvious: Although the anecdotal episodes themselves are self-contained and refer only to fragments of both individual and collective experiences in early nineteenth-century Lisbon, they play an important part in the process of historiographical reconstruction of the past. The historiographical value of the letters lies in the fact that they contain accounts that were neither censored nor doctored: The ensemble of letters forms a sort of scrapbook containing clippings or mementos that were never meant to be published.
Such moments, however, were bound together by a common genetic code: He preferred to position himself as an observer rather than as a commentator, and avoided getting entangled in elaborate considerations. Far from highly opinionated, the letters nonetheless give us the chance of peering into his personality, albeit obliquely. Sometimes, however, he felt compelled to take sides, such as when he dared to air his own opinion on Beresford:.
Such explicitness was rare. Shortly after the rebellion in Pernambuco, Brazil, Hutchinson censured himself for letting slip his views on the political turmoil that had gripped the country and decided to not to return to the issue for fear of reprisals:. His fears over the consequences of political dissent were not wholly misplaced. The horrific hanging of the Conspirators he watched on 22 October , shortly before his departure, left a lasting impression on him:. Here, his voyeurism matched his horror as he came to the full presence of death—that dark character that kept resurfacing in his writing.
As we have seen, what was once private acquires, over time, an archaeological value: In translation, chronological distance is of the essence: In sharp contrast with our contemporary world, where synchronous forms of communication and instantaneous access to information seem to have taken hold of the way we communicate with each other, the art and craft of translation necessitates the slow transit of time. It is a painstaking process of problem-solving, reflection and maturation.
It takes time and perseverance. And when it involves the representation of past historical phenomena, as in the present case, the temporal dimension acquires critical significance. On the one hand, the translator cannot help excogitating his own condition as a historical subject: And here, in the translation process, the time gap separating source and target texts functions not so much as a thread linking both acts of writing along a historical continuum but rather as a lens, generating several simultaneous optical effects, where light shifts in unsuspected ways and where appearance must be understood in its composite and elusive nature.
This, of course, entails much scrupulous work of detailed historical research, as well as the ability to articulate it within the translational process. The crux of the matter lies in being able to dwell in the interstices between two languages, two cultures and two historical periods.
In other words, one must learn to come to terms with the undecidability which undermines the certainties offered by our ingrained logocentrism. As the translator shifts, in the course of the translation process, from one logosphere in the Barthesian sense to another, he realises that the movement itself does not actually, cannot entail the loss or gain, subtraction or addition of meanings.
Meaning does not constitute some sort of universal currency that is, manifestations of a universal language common to all human beings that can be subjected to a process of direct exchange or transaction. Meanings cannot migrate freely from one language to another. I can only subtract meanings within the system they belong to. Languages weave their own networks of meanings and the exact value of each meaning, if it can ever be assessed, is to be determined only symptomatically by the effects generated by its presence or absence in one particular social and cultural context.
To believe in the transferability of the meaning and its capacity to survive as a whole in two distinct linguistic and cultural environments as in a process of ecesis is not to realise something that Derrida pointed out: One of the main problems of translation, therefore, is not just spatiality but also temporality , particularly the historical condition of the texts. And this, I think, poses an obstacle far more difficult to overcome, since it has to do with the impossibility for the translator to render two externalities compatible in one single target text.
Just as Hutchinson was compelled, as an expatriate, to come to terms with the social and cultural reality of his host country  which is, for all purposes, a question of spatiality , so the translator, like a migrant travelling through time, is forced to come to grips with an ancient world governed by laws long forsaken and now irretrievable the question of temporality. And since both writer and translator are forever barred from a fully unmediated contact with the unconsciously lived culture of the Other, both seeing it as something external to themselves, though not necessarily negative, their attempts to assimilate cultural elements and national idiosyncrasies can only take place on the terrain of the imaginary, which enables them to crop, select, filter and reshape elements and idiosyncrasies in order to discursively tame the otherness.
Translators of travel writing therefore have to operate on a double disjuncture. On the one hand, they have to deal with the cultural gap that exists between the author and the people he visits Hutchinson and the Portuguese , a gap which over-determines the perceptions, constructs, responses and projections of otherness of the British expat, but which -- since it is barely made explicit in the text -- can only be detected by means of a symptomatic reading.
On the other hand, translators have to negotiate the disjunction that will always separate them from the time and the concrete conditions under which the texts saw the light of day -- a disjunction that is further amplified by the impossibility of mapping the exact location of the intersection of cultures which gives the letters their characteristic intercultural tension see Cronin Therefore, the translator is left with no choice but to try to overcome these two disjunctions, both of which constitute distinct moments of resistance to interpretation.
How can we then circumvent the limitations to translation that such a double disjuncture imposes? Of course a careful, detailed investigation into the empirical elements offered by the letters and the issues broached therein must always be conducted, but this is not enough: It is this decentring at the core of translation that ends up being in itself a form of travelling.
It is rather the translator and his reader who are invited to venture across a frontier -- the frontier that sets the limits to their identities, values and representations, and that is both spatial and temporal. In fact, the main challenges to the translation of these letters were posed by the problem of temporality, that is, by the difficulties of bridging the time gap. The first issue to be tackled was the stylistics of the Portuguese target text. It was not just a matter of finding the best equivalents and transferring contents from the source text into the target language without major semantic losses.
It was also a matter of finding a style and a register that could somehow match the original ones. In order to do that, I compared the letters to similar archival and bibliographical sources in Portuguese. Two manuals of commercial correspondence proved invaluable: The analysis of the examples of letters allowed me to determine the way in which the target text was to be drafted. One of the most complicated aspects I had to deal with was choosing the mode of address: In Portuguese, this is not so linear.
In the early nineteenth century, modes of address would have varied according not only to social class, age or degree of familiarity, but also to written language conventions. The solution to the difficulty in ascertaining whether we were dealing with informality or politeness was partly given by the manual. This was the form I resorted to throughout. Another difficulty had to do with wording. The manuals proved useful in guiding my lexical choices. I wanted to give the translation a distinctive period flavour to represent the historical dimension of the original letters.
Many more old-fashioned or outdated Portuguese words that appear in the manual were likewise retrieved: Another challenge was related to the commercial jargon both in English and in Portuguese. Nowadays commercial terminology in both languages is much more complex, but most of the neologisms that currently exist in Portuguese are English words.
Back then, that influence was more tenuous. In any case, the search for the right equivalent would have always been time-consuming. If we multiply this by the wide spectrum of nomenclatures related to those areas of economic activity Hutchinson was directly or indirectly involved in, we have an idea of the complexity of the task. To start with, there were the inner workings of the wool trade business.
I had to unwind the ball of yarn of the English wool and worsted industry, including all the details concerning the different stages of the manufacturing process: It took me a while before I learnt from a magazine published in London in Tilloch They referred to the way Spanish wool which also included Portuguese wool was classified: Primera or Refina R. Moreover, since conducting business ventures overseas back then was not without its risks, I had to acquaint myself with the idiom used in cargo and shipping insurance, learn about risk-assessment, shipping deadlines, storage conditions, bills of lading, types of merchant ships crossing the Atlantic, and so on.
But then there are also taxes and duties, customs procedures and the requirements of port authorities, the valuation of the bales in the Cocket,  goods lodged at the Custom House not yet dispatched -- all of this wrapped up in a language of its own, which has to be patiently disassembled, explored, digested, and then reassembled and fine-tuned in the translation process. In order to penetrate that language I had to resort to historical research once more. However, since the Revista de Estudos Anglo-Portugueses is aimed at a scholarly readership, it proved unnecessary to insist on the explanation of cultural or linguistic aspects that they are supposed to be already acquainted with.
Differences in style between early nineteenth-century and early twenty-first-century Portuguese are noticeable, but they do not make the text less intelligible. In any case, stylistic conventions should not pose a problem for all the scholars who are used to working with documents of that period. So I kept the footnotes to a minimum. The future publication of a book containing the complete correspondence of the Farrer family, this time aiming at a more general readership, will entail a different explanatory methodology, but not a different stylistic treatment.
Writing narratives of displacement and travel is in itself a translational act, where the author is always seeking to translate into his mother tongue the manifestations of the culture of the other. In the process, the translator is forced to question his identity, values and the representations of his own nation and people, especially if the original text is non-fictional and therefore stakes a claim to the immediacy and truthfulness of the experience. The translator thus has to achieve a tour-de-force in bridging all three gaps and rendering the text accessible to the contemporary reader.
However, the meanings in the target text will always have but a spectral relation with the ones in the source text: This distance between the source and target texts becomes more difficult to span when historical time — fissured as it has been, in this particular case, over these past two centuries by sudden ruptures and discontinuities — keeps eroding the paths that could render the source text recognisable to the reader: Brewster, London, New Left Books.
Cronin, Michael Across the Lines: Maxwell, Kenneth Conflicts and Conspiracies: Brazil and Portugal, , London, Routledge. Tilloch, Alexander The Philosophical Magazine: Records of the Exchequer: Farrer and another v Hutchinson and others. Paris, ; Joaquim Ferreira de Freitas. London, Richard and Arthur Taylor, He is also the director of studies of postgraduate programmes in ELT and translation. He has also participated in several European-funded projects related to teacher training and computer-assisted language learning.
Articles on aspects of translation studies have appeared in academic journals and edited volumes. Undoubtedly, individuals contribute to the construction of social identities and society in turn is influential in forming personal identities. Translation sociology has already become one of the in-vogue research interests and areas in both Translation and Interpreting Studies TS and Sociology, giving way to understanding and interpreting both old issues in innovative ways and new ones arising from the nature of the diverse sociopolitical and cultural world today.
The interdisciplinary nature of research in this area has the potential to encourage scholars to carry out investigations into, inter alia, the interface between self, groups, and society with respect to translational issues, concerns and practices. As the roles translators play vary based on contextual factors, translators can and do have multiple identities including personal, social, and professional identities.
It goes without saying that sociology, and specifically identity, which has been mostly neglected in translator training, can provide important insights if we reflect on the myriad interfaces between training, trainers, trainees, translators and society from diverse standpoints. Clearly, the recent sociological turn in TS has encouraged both scholars and practitioners to explore the relationship between the agents involved in the translation process, product and function and to acknowledge the complexities and subtleties of these relationships, which in turn, has the potential to influence the production and reception of translations.
The same applies to translator training as it includes process, product, and function and can be looked at from the viewpoint of one or more of these elements. The sociology of translators and the sociology of translating appear to be tightly interrelated since, translators, as hands-on agents with their own beliefs, interests, and individualities, play a fundamental part in the translation process, which, together with the feedback they receive from translation users, affect and shape their concept of themselves.
It follows, then, that sociological and psychological aspects of translation are closely associated: Furthermore, from a Bourdiusian perspective, translators are always in a sway between their own habitus, comprising dispositions and mental structures resulting from their past experiences, and the norms and structures present in the field of translation and other fields encompassing it. This said, translators are agents and subjects within different social spheres, one of which is that of translation.
Bourdieu presents a full definition of habitus as a:. System of lasting, transposable dispositions which, integrating past experiences, functions at every moment as a matrix of perceptions, appreciations, and actions and makes possible the achievement of infinitely diversified tasks, thanks to analogical transfers of schemes permitting the solution of similarly shape problems, and thanks to the unceasing corrections of the results obtained dialectically produced by those results.
Finally, we will present and analyze the results of a survey conducted on Iranian and Italian undergraduate trainee translators to see how different aspects of their identities are correlated. We are hopeful that the findings of this study will have implications, inter alia, for training translators because identity is a key concept in teaching and learning and in enhancing their quality.
This general distinction, arising from socialization practices, between Western individualistic societies and Eastern collectivist societies has also been documented by other scholars such as Singelis , Johnson , Bengston et al. And how do Iranian and Italian trainee translators differ in terms of their identity?
Iranian undergraduate trainee translators tend to have well-developed interdependent identities whereas Italian undergraduates tend to have well-developed self-dependent identities. Iranian and Italian trainee translators differ in terms of their sense of their own identity. We shall begin by defining different types of identity. Personal, individual, group, collective, gender, national, linguistic, cultural, and professional are probably the most established terms with which we refer to identity. Interestingly, this way of defining identity closely resembles the definition of culture, foregrounding the proximity of the two concepts.
Both culture and identity find realization in what they are not referring to ; in excluding and in contrast with others. Identity has both individual and collective manifestations. In other words, individuals have their own identity, which distinguishes them from other individuals while individuals are members of social groups which are different from other groups. The distinction becomes more significant when we note that societies vary in the degree to which they are more individualist or collectivist. It follows that educational practices should take these differences into consideration.
Camilleri and Malewska-Peyre Self carries various identities depending on the given situation where certain social roles are performed. This implies that in social interactions, only parts of an individual's identity are involved in any given situation Stets and Burke An immediate implication of this view of translator training as a series of social situations is that trainee translators construct their identities in the educational situations they experience. As mentioned previously, a feature that makes research into identity fascinating yet demanding is the fact that this concept lies at the interface of sociology and psychology, two huge and influential sciences.
It is also a reason why teaching is such a complex endeavor. Similarly, translation is both a social and a psychological endeavor. The three types of identities explored in this study need to be defined here. Personal identity can be explained simply as how we define ourselves. Social identity, according to Tajfel cited in Ashmore, Jussim and Wilder Although Bourdieu himself does not seem to have explicitly defined identity, scholars have investigated this concept based on his theories. The dispositional, collective, and reflexive components represent personal, social, and professional identities.
Similarly, as Cressman points out, the interactions between actors in networks define their identity and because actors can at the same time belong to different networks and depending on the way these interact, their identities can vary.
Therefore, in both theories we can consider multiple identities for translators and trainee translators. A similar study was carried out by Dionysios Kapsaskis As an example of how the professional identity of translators is influenced by industrial changes, Kapaskis On the other hand, there are studies that have gone the other way round, namely, they have probed the influence of translation on communities, norms, and identities of different types. However, such studies are beyond the scope and the primary aims of the present article.
She merges ANT with ethnography in order to trace each stage in the translation process of a number of case-studies of literary works. For Bourdieu, realism takes the real to be relational. This relationality is, for instance, visible in the relations between the different types of capital that Bourdieu speaks of, as well as in the interconnectedness of his concepts of habitus, capital, doxa, and illusio.
A major argument of her research is that. They emphasize the role of socialization in the construction of habitus, which together with the capital trainee translators can gain, are both part of, and influential in, their specialization in the field of translator training. His structuralist orientation, reflected in his practice theory and related concepts of agency, field, habitus , capital , doxa and illusio , leaves little doubt of the relevance of his ideas to the sociological analysis of identity, given that, as social agents, individuals work to create social structures which construct their identity in return.
Based on this structure, habitus creates beliefs, practices, and feelings and it is structured by existing conditions Grenfell Habitus, as mentioned above, operates along with other factors. For what we know as practice, Bourdieu presents an equation as follows: Habitus helps us shape our perspective towards the social world in a rather revolutionary way. By the same token, Stets and Burke We must go back and forth and understand how social structure is the accomplishment of actors, but also how actors always act within the social structure they create. In this game, individuals, groups and institutions compete for better positions.
Social agents learn the rules of the game gradually. They are only equipped with their own points of view. They take time to develop and they are never perfect. ANT has undergone some modifications: The main tenet of the social constructivism paradigm is the construction of knowledge through social interactions, including those in classrooms, hence the significance of collaboration and group work.
Thus, it can be argued that social constructivism, and by extension ANT, favors a collective approach to identity and its construction due to its concepts of network and translation. The central notion of an actor or agent or actant is understood to include both human and nonhuman agents: The network has no centre, all the elements are interdependent. Important roles are played by knowledge systems and by economic factors, as well as by people and by technical aids.
Causality is not unidirectional: The theory distinguishes various kinds of relation between the nodes of a network […]. The interaction between agents or actants is called translation , a concept which ANT borrows from Michel Serres, as Barry Intermediaries do not affect the forces and meanings they are to transfer but mediators can modify them Latour, Thus, the identity of actants is dependent on their roles as mediator or intermediary, which can also change into each other. Most theories are developed by theorists through the evaluation of previous theories and approaches.
Bourdieusian approaches tend to reduce the agent to the translator, and only consider agency from the individualistic perspective Buzelin Starting from a general assumption of the existence of distinctions between Western and Eastern identities, we conducted an identity survey of Iranian and Italian undergraduate trainee translators, to test our hypotheses and to see to what extent the findings would fall within Bourdieu and ANT theories. Additionally, the correlation between personal, social and professional identities among students was briefly examined.
A total of trainee translators participated in our survey: The students were from four Iranian and four Italian universities: The age and gender distribution of the two groups of students are given in Tables 1 and 2 below. AIQ-IV is a questionnaire that measures identity orientation in the four aspects of personal, relational, social and collective identities.
Arno, cold with sorrow, the walls do not see you: Lyrics of Lowly Life , which reprinted two earlier small collections, made him famous. Based on my personal experience, Rowhani is a polite man with open character. You ought to be all toads by this time, at the very least. The solution to the difficulty in ascertaining whether we were dealing with informality or politeness was partly given by the manual.
In the original AIQ-IV questionnaire, there are 10 special items that are not scored on scales, two of which were included in our modified questionnaire. The research population was provided with the online questionnaire with an extended time period within which to respond and the responses were recorded both separately for each respondent and in a summary of all responses.
To help our analysis, the responses of Iranian and Italian students were recorded separately. Then, the total mean scores were compared and interpreted. Additionally, based on the total scores of the responses to each item, items that showed marked distinctions among the two groups of students were singled out as potential indicators of a number of meaningful and enlightening contrasts. Comparing the mean values for all items, the items whose mean scores showed a certain variation were identified and marked for this purpose.
The procedure was as follows: The resultant criterion values were. Finally, a microanalysis of identity scores based on three age groups of 19 or younger, male , and years old was carried out in order to find out more about the correlation of the identity aspects. Figure 1 compares Iranian and Italian undergraduate translator trainees in three aspects of their identities.
A Comparison of trainee translators' three identity aspects based on mean Likert scale values. As Figure 1 shows, the Iranian and Italian students surveyed in this study, show a contrast in terms of their personal and social identities where the former tend to have a stronger social identity and the latter a more marked sense of personal identity. This implies that Italian students are more inclined towards individualism and self-dependence while Iranian students prefer interdependence; a difference that may reflect overall differences between Iranian and Italian, or Eastern and Western, societies.
As for the correlation between personal and social identities with professional identity, no meaningful correlation was observed, indicating that either there are more factors that have to be taken into account or some complementary data is required. We stated above that a special analysis was carried out of those items which produced significantly different based on the overall scores between Iranians and Italians.
The following items were selected for further interpretation in each aspect of identity. My personal values and moral standards Item 7: Places where I live or where I was raised. A comparison of personal identity marked items using mean Liker scale values. The Iranian students' score was significantly higher than their Italian counterparts in Item 1 but lower in Item 7, which might indicate that although Iranian students display a somewhat more social and less personal identity orientation, they might care more their values and morality issues.
On the other hand Italian students felt more intensely and emotionally about their living environments. A comparison of social identity marked items using mean Likert scale values. The results shown in Figure 3 imply that Italians are less concerned about their social popularity. Popularity, as social capital, is a way to earn symbolic capital, which in turn can be arguably converted into other types of capital, particularly cultural capital. There were two items identified as marked with respect to professional identity, which are listed below:.
Being considered a reliable and organized co-worker Item My future job despite its difficulties and low income. A comparison of professional identity marked items using mean Likert scale values. Although Italian students showed a higher propensity for individual work, they seem to value professional qualities when working with other people to a higher extent, which is indicated in Item 23; they consider it more important to be valuable co-workers through being reliable and organized. Being reliable is a highly interpersonal attribute while being organized tends to be a personal characteristic yet with palpable outcomes for the people around us.
Furthermore, in reference to Item 24, Italian students seemed to consider their future job much more important than Iranian students, a result which could imply two things: Overall, in the majority of the professional identity items, the Italian students demonstrated a stronger orientation, which may indicate that they generally have a better image of their field-related abilities and prospects for developing their careers in translation. As a final step in this survey, we explored the correlation between personal and social identity aspects on the one hand with professional identity on the other.
To this end, three age groups of trainee translators were compared in terms of their mean identity scores. Figure 5 and Figure 6 display the findings, indicating a chiefly positive correlation between the three identity aspects in the age groups analyzed — except for Italian students of 19 years or younger. Another finding was that because the comparison of the mean scores of personal and social identities in these three age groups did not differ significantly across the two national groups, we can conclude that the excluded age group, female students aged , had a significant influence on the overall identity variation between Iranian and Italian students.
The different items of the questionnaire, as well as the identity aspects it addressed, were related to the concepts discussed in the sociological theories. The results of our empirical analysis point to a stronger social identity and habitus for Iranian students and a stronger personal and professional identity orientation and habitus on the part of the Italian students; a result which suggests that social activities in translator training may be particularly suitable in an Iranian context, while personal activities maybe more suitable when training translators in an Italian context.
In addition, we found a predominantly positive correlation between personal and social identities with professional identity among the age groups we decided to study for the purpose of correlation analysis. With reference to our research questions, we are now in a position to draw some conclusions: An implication of this study in translator training might be that once we understand that different societies have different conceptions of identity as well as various identities and identity construction patterns — for example, the general distinction between individualistic Western and the social Eastern identity — then our training priorities will differ, with implications for our translation curricula, pedagogies and teaching methods.
Additionally, the types of power distribution observed in the two theories have clear implications for the description of educational practices, including translator training. Introducing the two sociologies into the classroom allows learners to experience different identity constructions, which is recommended today. We would like to extend our deep gratitude to Prof. Marcello Soffritti and Prof. Christopher Rundle for their invaluable help with the project this study was part of.
We would also like to thank Prof. Silvia Bernardini for her constructive comments on a draft of this manuscript. Our heartfelt thanks also go to all the Italian and Iranian colleagues who helped with the distribution of our survey as well as the survey participants. These items describe different aspects of identity. Please read each item carefully and consider how it applies to you. The full scale is:.
Not important to my sense of who I am 1 2 3 4 5 Extremely important to my sense of who I am. Journal of International Studies Bourdieu, Pierre Outline of a theory of practice , trans. Nice, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.
Bourdieu, Pierre In other words: Essays towards a reflexive sociology , trans. Measurement Instrument Database for the Social Science, www. Grenfell, Michael ed Pierre Bourdieu: Empowerment from Theory to Practice , Manchester, St. Latour, Bruno Reassembling the social: Bartrina eds , Oxon, Routledge: Heine, Toshio Yamagishi, and Tatsuya Kameda eds. Snel Trampus, Rita D. After completing his MA in Translation Studies at Shahid Beheshti University, he started his translator training career in and has ever since taught undergraduate translation courses mainly at Arak University, where he got his BA in English Translation in He attended the University of Bologna once as a PhD student in , and another time as a doctoral visiting student in Starting from the definitions of culture, law, technology as well as legal and technical culture respectively, the aim of this paper is to point out the different degrees of cultural specificity in law and technology and in legal and technical language and texts.
The paper will also show to what extend the differences within the various dimensions of cultural specificity lead to differences in methods and procedures of translation. Ausgehend von den Definitionen von Kultur, Recht und Technik einerseits sowie von Rechts- und Technikkultur andererseits wird in diesem Beitrag der unterschiedliche Grad von Kulturspezifik in Recht und Technik und in ihren sprachlich-textuellen Manifestationen herausgearbeitet. Kulturspezifik, Rechtssprache, technische Sprache, cultural specificity, legal language, technical language.
Ziel des Beitrags ist es zum einen, den unterschiedlichen Grad der Kulturspezifik in Recht und Technik und ihren sprachlich-textuellen Manifestationen herauszuarbeiten. Rechtliche Regeln werden, wie von Marschelke Nutzung einerseits bestimmte Voraussetzungen mitbringen muss, dessen Erfordernissen aber andererseits auch bei der Gestaltung der Technik Rechnung zu tragen ist.
Recht und die damit verbundene Kultur sind m. Bei qualitativer Betrachtung stellt sich dann heraus, dass Technikkultur im Korpus nur mit den Termini Stiftung und Verein verbunden ist. Welche kulturspezifischen Unterschiede bestehen zwischen Recht und Technik auf der sprachlichen und der textuellen Ebene? Welche Unterschiede zwischen Recht und Technik wirken sich in besonderer Weise auf die kulturspezifischen Unterschiede aus?
Rechtssprache ist in erster Linie eine Institutionensprache Busse Diese erfordert eine doppelte rechtlich-sprachliche Abstraktion. Civil Law - vs. Nur in mehrsprachigen nationalen Rechtsordnungen Beisp.: Schweizer Recht und in supranationalen Rechtsordnungen Beisp.: And threads of smoke from chimneys here and there. And over everything, this thing—divine: The Broken Window Everything conspires against you.
It seems to you that its surviving has denied obedience to things. And in the smashing of the panes, the judgment has been rendered from above. John Avelluto, acrylic mediums and paint on glass. He specializes in the poetry of the Middle Ages, particularly the comic-satiric tradition. Immanuel was a poet and a philosopher. He wrote commentaries on books of the Old Testament in Hebrew, as well as a compendium of Hebrew poetry entitled Mahbarot Collection.
His lyric production in Italian con- sists of four sonnets and a frottola. He died in E mio compar tradimento stia forte: Love does things that cause me great suffering. But in Rome I am a Colonnese or Ursino: And in Tuscany, the Guelphs should rejoice! For Chelsea Editions, he has recently translated major selections of the poetry and prose poetry of Pierre-Albert Jourdan and Philippe Jaccottet. Normally a translator of contemporary French writing, Taylor has become interested in Lorenzo Calogero and is currently translating much of his poetry.
Lorenzo Calogero has long remained a major overlooked igure in Italian poetry. However, another period of relative neglect set in. Today, Calogero has returned fully to the fore. An informa- tive website www. New editions have appeared, notably Poco Suono ; Nuove Edizioni Barbaro, and especially Parole del tempo ; edited by Mario Sechi, Donzelli, , the latter comprising 25 Poesie as well. The poems published in this issue have been chosen from these volumes or from the previ- ously unpublished writings collected on the website. Yet because herms are divided into equal parts your irm thoughts no longer rescue you above your lowers in the same laring now-sparkling [aridity and you notice you are more alone.
Miserly in your thoughts, the same arid substance gets you stuck for your pleasure alone. Faraway and donned with things already appear all the roses. Se bianco udivi Se bianco udivi ora vedi. Misteriosamente due a due caddero come si volsero bruni volti i soli. Lambiva la tua vita incerta una veste inutilmente, una cara gioia nel folto nuda voce uno scoglio. Verdi iridi vende in un sofio una nube a primavera su una tempesta subitamente rapida partendo. Erano i rigori chiusi del ruscello un caro coro di segni schiusi per sempre, un tenue casto canto di pioppi sui poggi del fringuello.
They responded with a dewy slowness of love so I lay down on their parched jagged peaks as on a woods made of wind. A son of the ocean was born to me. If Whiteness You Heard If whiteness you heard now you see. And manly as clear water lowing down, down into the depths of oneself gets torn apart I hide myself from you. Some clothes barely touched your uncertain life uselessly, a dear joy in the thicket naked voice a boulder.
Green irises sell off in a whiff a cloud to the spring and away it goes on a quick sudden storm. The rigors shutting off the creek were a dear chorus of ever-open everlasting signs, a chaste slender song of poplars on the leeside of the chafinch. Subito mi piega, linea timida, un tuo bacio. A new thing was giving back to the full moon I hide silence, branched-out, deeply entangled, and, from branch to branch, the leaves in my hands, a pale cheek or an already faint eyelid on the shyly fading ingertips.
I thus learn facing a waning bent-down light the waning silence of life. A Distich is Hardly Exfoliated A distich is hardly exfoliated and then the swollen arborescences or something else: In the morning I had gone far from your restful fragile eyes toward the top of a fantastic city and the sway of the pines in the murky wind becomes mild, it was a scruple a lemur or the square space.
Io sapevo i nastri sognanti e un silenzio glabro. Ma un turbine scuote e tu a ritroso lentamente vedevi. A strange living stillness among the white pebbles. A memory of another life could burn down and out. I knew the dreaming ribbons and a glabrous silence. But a whirlwind shakes things up and you, turning back, slowly saw. Oodgeroo wrote poems, short stories, essays, and children literature. What does matter in her work is the message, while any aesthetic pleasure we derive from her writing is of secondary importance.
The deliberate rejection of aes- thetic concerns, according to Mudrooroo, is intended to produce a sense of alienation. The Italian scholar and translator Lorenzo Perrona, including Oodgeroo amongst the most inluential Australian intellectuals of the past century, suggests that her work refers to the vast heritage of Aboriginal culture as to something lost, cancelled - something to save as a treasure for the present and for the future. Stradbroke Stradbroke, an island that was once stocked with natural beauty: Years ago, my family — my Aboriginal family — lived on Stradbroke Island.
Years before the greedy mineral seekers came to scar the landscape and break the back of this lovely island. I recall how we used to make the trip to Point Lookout. My father would saddle our horse at early light and we would make our way along the shoreline, then cut inland to climb over the hills covered with lowering pines, wattles and gums.
The brumbies would watch our approach from a safe distance. These wild horses never trusted man, their foe. They would nuzzle their foals, warning them to stay away from their enemy. The shells washed up by the sea delighted us. Sometimes, too, we found strange, small-scale outrigger craft. Father told us that some of our neighbours to the north of Australia prayed to their god to bless their ishing leet, and tossed these model ships into the sea to appease the waves.
There was one sight we loved about all others. When we ar- rived at Point Lookout, we would tether our horses out of sight, then take up position behind the small sandhills that dotted the shore. We would lie full-length upon our stomachs and silently wait for the beautiful nautilus shells to come out of the sea. They looked like little ships in full sail. We feasted our eyes upon the sight, knowing it would not last long, for at the least sound these shy creatures would immediately draw in their satin sails and drop like stones to the safety of the sea bottom.
The island is different now. Motor-cars belch fumes over the land, and the noise of industry drowns out all the other sounds of life. Anni fa, la mia famiglia - la mia famiglia aborigena - abitava a Stradbroke Island. Anni prima che gli avidi cercatori di minerali giungessero a ferire il paesaggio e spezzare la schiena di questa bella isola. Ricordo che facevamo sempre una a gita a Point Lookout. I cavalli selvatici ci osservavano avvicinarci da una distanza di sicurezza. Stroinando il muso contro i puledri, li ammonivano di stare alla larga dal nemico.
Le conchiglie lavate dal mare erano la nostra passione. A volte, inoltre, trovavamo una strana canoa di piccole dimensioni. Arrivati a Point Lookout, legavamo i cavalli in modo che non si vedessero, poi ci appostavamo dietro alle dune di sabbia che punteggiavano la riva. Assomigliavano a piccoli vascelli con le vele spiegate. Le conchiglie a imbuto spiegavano alla brezza una vela color malva, che catturava i raggi del sole e riluceva come raso. The birds and animals are going. The trees and lowers are being pushed aside and left to die. Tourists come to soak up the sunshine and bathe in the blue Paciic, scattering as they go their discarded cans and cigarette packs and bottles and even the hulks of cars.
Greedy, thoughtless, stupid, ignorant man continues the as- sault on nature. But he too will suffer. His ruthless bulldozers are digging his own grave. Kill to eat My father worked for the Government, as a ganger of an Ab- original workforce which helped to build roads, load and unload the supply ships, and carry out all the menial tasks around the island.
For this work he received a small wage and rations to feed his seven children.
I was the third-eldest daughter. Of course, we never depended upon the rations to keep our- selves alive. We each had our own sling-shots to bring down the blueys and greenies — the parrots and lorikeets that haunted the lowering gums. And he showed us how to make bandicoot traps: Bandicoots cannot resist burnt toast. We would set our traps at dusk, and always next day there was a trapped bandicoot to take proudly home for Mother to roast.
Dad also showed us how to latten a square piece of tin and sharpen it. This was very valuable for slicing through the shallow waters; many a mullet met its doom from the accurate aim of one of my brothers wielding the sharpened tin. Dad made long iron crab hooks, too, and we each had a hand ishing-line of our own. One rule he told us we must strictly obey. When we went hunting, we must understand that our weapons were to be used onlt for the gathering of food. We must never use them for the sake of killing. This is in fact one of the strictest laws of the Aborigine, and no excuse is accepted for abusing it.
Uccelli e animali stanno scompar- endo. Alberi e iori sono messi da parte e lasciati morire. I turisti vengono a crogiolarsi al sole e a fare il bagno nel Paciico azzurro, e quando se ne vanno sparpagliano i loro riiuti: I suoi spietati bulldozer gli stanno scavando la fossa. Io ero la terzogenita. Solitamente erano composte di carne, riso, sago, tapioca e, in occasioni speciali, come il Com- pleanno della Regina, un dolce alle prugne.
Naturalmente, per mantenerci in vita non contavamo mai sulle razioni. Lui ci mostrava come costruire le trappole per i ratti: I topi giganti non sanno resistere al pane. Una sola regola ci disse di osservare alla lettera. Quando an- davamo a caccia, dovevamo renderci conto che le armi andavano usate solo per procacciare il cibo.
Non dovevamo mai usarle per il gusto di uccidere. We armed ourselves with our sling-shots and made our way towards he trees. My sister and I always shot at our quarry from the ground. The boys would climb onto the branches of the gum-trees, stand quite still, and pick out the choicest and healthiest birds in the lock. My elder brother was by far the best shot of all of us.
He was always boasting about it, too. But never in front of our mother and father, because he would have been punished for his vanity. The boys ordered us to take up our positions under the trees as quietly as possible. In spite of the disgust we felf for our boastful brother, we always let him start the shooting.
He was a dead shot, and we all knew it. Now we watched as he drew a bead on the large bluey straight across from him. The bird seemed intent on its honey-gathering from the gum-tree. We held our breath and our brother ired. Suddenly there was a screeching from the birds and away they lew, leaving my brother as astonished as we were ourselves.
He had been so close to his victim that it seemed impossible he should have missed… but he had. We looked at him, and his face of blank disbelief was just too much for us. We roared with laughter. My other brother jumped to the ground and rolled over and over, laughing his head off. But the more we laughed, the angrier my elder brother became. Then, seeming to join in the fun, a kookaburra in the nearby tree strated his raucus chuckle, which rose to full pitch just as though he, too, saw the joke.
In anger my elder brother brought up his sling-shot and ired blindly at the sound. Our laughter was cut short by the fall of the kookaburra to the ground. My brother, horriied, his anger gone, climbed down and we gathered silently around the stricken bird. We looked at each other in frightened silence, knowing full well what we had done. We had broken that strict rule of the Aboriginal law. Armati delle nostre ionde, ci dirigemmo verso gli alberi. Io e le mie sorelle tiravamo sempre da terra alla preda. Mio fratello maggiore era di gran lunga il miglior tiratore di noi tutti.
E per questo si vantava sempre. Si vantava soltanto con noi, sapendo che non ci saremmo lagnati di lui con i nostri genitori. Era un tiratore infallibile e lo sapevamo tutti. Lo osservammo mirare con cura il grande bluey proprio davanti a lui. Trattenemmo il respiro e nostro fratello fece fuoco. Improvvisamente, gli uccelli volarono via ischiando e lasci- ando mio fratello attonito quanto noi.
Era talmente vicino alla sua vittima, che Scoppiammo a ridere fragorosamente. Non aveva neanche fatto in tempo a mirare. La nostra risata fu interrotta dalla caduta del kookaburra. Muti e spaventati ci guardammo, coscienti di quel che avevamo fatto. Avevamo infranto quella severa legge aborigena: The Aborigine does not eat the kookaburra.
His merry laughter is allowed to go unchecked, for he brings happiness to the tribes. We call him our brother and friend. We did not see our father coming towards us. He must have been looking for irewood. When he came upon us, we parted to allow him to see what had happened. He checked his anger by remaining silent and picking up a fallen branch. Mercifully he put the stricken bird out of its misery. Then he ordered us home. On the way back we talked with awesome foreboding of the punishment we knew would come. I wished our father would beat us, but we all knew it would not be a quick punishment.
Besides, Dad never beat us. No, we knew the punishment would be carefully weighted to it the crime. When we got home, our mother was told to give us our meal. Nothing was said of the dead kookaburra, but we knew Dad would broach the subject after we had eaten.
None of us felt hungry, and our mother only played with her food. We knew that Dad had decided upon the punishment, and that Mother had agreed to it, even if she felt unhappy about it. It was our mother who ordered us to bring into the backyard our bandicoot traps, our sling-shots, and every other weapon we had. We had to place them in a heap in the yard, while our father carefully checked every item.
Our big black dog stood with us. He always did when there was trouble in the family. Although he could not possibly understand the ways of hu- man beings, he could nevertheless interpret an atmosphere of trouble when it came. Father spoke for the irst time since we had killed the kooka- burra.
He asked for no excuses for what we had done, and we did not offer any. We must all take the blame. That is the way of the Aborigine. Since we had killed for the sake of killing, the punish- ment was that for three months we should not hunt or use our weapons. During those three months our stomachs growled, and our puzzled dog would question with his eyes and wagging tail why we sat around wasting our time when there was hunting to be done.
It happened a long time ago. Yet in my dreams, the sad, suffer- ing eyes of the kookaburra, our brother and friend, still haunt me. Non vedemmo nostro padre avvicinarsi. Doveva essere andato a far legna. Lui tenne a freno la rabbia rimanendo in silenzio e raccogliendo un ramo caduto. Sulla via del ritorno parlammo con tremendo presentimento della punizione che sapevamo sarebbe arrivata.
Speravo che nostro padre ci picchiasse, ma noi tutti sapevamo che la punizione non sarebbe stata rapida. No, sape- vamo che la punizione sarebbe stata ponderata attentamente in relazione al reato. Nessuno aveva appetito e nostra madre giocherellava col cibo. Fu nostra madre a ordinarci di portare in giardino le trappole, le ionde e ogni altra arma in nostro possesso. Dovevamo ammuc- chiarle nel giardino, sotto lo sguardo attento di nostro padre.
Il nostro grosso cane nero ci stava accanto. Forse non riusciva a capire i modi di fare degli esseri umani, ma era in grado di interpretare un clima agitato. Era tutta colpa nostra. Tuttavia nei miei sogni gli occhi tristi, sofferenti, del kookaburra, nostro fratello e amico, mi tor- mentano ancora. The tide was out and the mud-lats were alive with sea-birds. Curlews were calling and ibises walked with heads down, searching with their beaks for crabs in the seaweed.
Gulls fought each other on the sand-lats, and the mangrove Jack, crouched like a hunchback, pretended to sleep and waited for the small ish and crabs to ven- ture too near him. The dog was puzzled. Lately the pattern of life seemed to have changed. The little humans had gone to school, and the woman always seemed to be busy washing. He watched the little humans go off with their schoolbags each morning; he went with them as far as the bridge, but he was forbidden to go any farther. They would be gone for a long time. He was bored with just sitting around.
This morning the mud-lats called him. He pretended not to hear and stretched himself full-length on the grass, and yawned. He wondered why the little humans no longer went hunting. They, too, seemed to sit and grow bored when they were home. The curlew called to his mate on the mud-lat, and the dog pricked up his ears and made up his mind. He bounded through the fence and across the sand until he came to the low-water mark left by the tide. He watched the small toads darting to and fro in the shallows.
With one paw raised he snapped at the toads, but it was only in fun. The little humans had trained him as a pup not to touch the toads. Now, his grown-up-dog instinct told him that if he swallowed a sea-toad it could poison him. The black dog wandered farther into the water, where the long seaweed grew near the deepest part of the channel. His keen eyes watched for movement in the water.
He knew this was the place of the salmon sharks.
His mouth watered for the taste of shark. The little human often took him with them in the dinghy when they hunted the small salmon sharks, which built their nests in the long seaweed. But they always made him stay in the boat, though he had tried hard to convince them that he was a match for any shark. In vain, for the smallest human always held him with her arms entwined round his neck. La marea era bassa e il litorale paludoso brulicava di gabbiani. I gabbiani si azzuffavano sul bagnasciuga e il mangrove jack1 acquattato come un gobbo, faceva inta di dormire in attesa che pesciolini e granchi gli si avvicinas- sero incautamente.
Il cane era perplesso. Negli ultimi tempi, lo schema della vita sembrava cambiato. I piccoli umani erano andati a scuola e la donna pareva sempre indaffarata a fare il bucato. Ogni mattina, vedeva i piccoli umani uscire con la cartella; li accompagnava ino al ponte, ma andare oltre gli era proibito. Sarebbero stati via a lungo. Anche loro seduti a casa parevano annoiarsi. Da cucciolo, i pic- coli umani lo avevano addestrato a non toccare i rospi di mare. Ora il suo istinto di cane adulto gli suggeriva che, se ne avesse ingoiato uno, avrebbe potuto avvelenarsi.
Sapeva che questo era il luogo degli squali salmone. I piccoli umani se lo porta- vano dietro spesso nel canotto quando andavano a caccia di piccoli squali salmone, che costruivano i loro nidi tra le lunghe alghe. Ma lo facevano sempre stare sulla barca, nonostante le avesse provate tutte per convincerli che lui era degno avversario di qualunque squalo. Scappare sarebbe stato facile, ma non avrebbe mai disobbedito ai comandi dei pic- coli umani.
Gli occhi del cane colsero un movimento tra le alghe. It was only half-grown, and in its panic to get away, it made the mistake of licking its tail and darting against the outgoing tide. A full-grown shark would never have made such an error. The ish darted onto a half-submerged sandbank, realised its mistake, and struggled to free itself.
But that error cost its life. The dog pounced again. Grabbing the shark by the tail, he tossed his head and licked the ish high and dry onto the mud-lat. Then he sat by the dying shark, catching his breath. He stood up and shook the water off his coat and out of his ears and eyes. The dog tried to pick up the shark in his jaws, but it was too big for him. It was much bigger than the goannas, lizards and snakes he often carried home from the hunt with the little humans.
They were not here to help him; he must ind a way to carry the shark home. He looked towards the house. It was about a quarter of mile away. Finally he worked out a plan of action. Taking the now almost dead shark by the tail, he dragged it after him, stopping every now and then to take a rest. He dragged it as far as the beach gate, and decided that was far enough. Now, if he could persuade the woman to come out, she could carry it the rest of the way for him.
The dog barked and barked, but the woman took no notice. The dog dared not leave the shark and go to ind the woman; an- other dog might come along and take it from him in his absence. So he sat up and gave the most pitiful howl he could muster. That howl had the desired effect. The woman opened the house door to see what was wrong with the dog.
When she saw the shark, she came down the steps and out of the gate. She shaded her eyes against the sun and looked out toward the drag marks on the sand, and realised what the dog had done. She patted his head and stooped to pick up the shark. The dog placed one paw on his prize. Hun- gry for ish, eh? Better than that muck the white man calls food. Uno squalo adulto non avrebbe mai commesso un errore del genere. Afferrato lo squalo per la coda, scosse la testa e lo fece volare in panne sul litorale.
Poi si mise seduto accanto allo squalo moribondo, trattenendo il respiro. Se ora fosse riuscito a persuadere la donna a uscire, lei avrebbe potuto trasportarlo al posto suo per il resto del tragitto. Il cane non si idava ad abbandonare lo squalo per andare in cerca della donna: Proteggendosi gli occhi dal sole, vide le tracce del trascinio sulla sabbia e si rese conto di cosa avesse fatto il cane. Voglia di pesce, eh? Non posso darti torto. When the little humans returned from school, they too sniffed the smell of cooked shark and looked in amazement at each other, for it was not yet three months since they had shot at the kooka- burra, and the hunting ban was still in force.
The woman told them how the shark had come there, and they looked with envy at the dog. They sat and talked about it on the grass outside the house, until the woman came out with a large dish which she sat down on the ground. The dog wagged his tail and licked his chops. They cannot have any. Go on now — eat. After he had emptied the dish, he came and sat with them. His belly felt warm and happy again.
The smallest human took the dish inside, then came running out again. Quando anche i piccoli umani rientrarono da scuola e sen- tirono il profumino di squalo, si guardarono sbalorditi: La donna disse loro da dove proveniva lo squalo, e i ragazzi guardarono il cane con invidia. La sua pancia era di nuovo calda e felice. His last three books, published by Anchor, are The Book of Firsts: Its chapel, rebuilt in the nineteenth century, was the object of a midwinter visit by Eliot described in the opening movement of the poem that borrows its title from that place of prayer.
Why did Eliot choose to forgo rhyme? Though each of the Quartets features rhymed lyrics, the narrative sections, such as the Dantesque imitation, are all unrhymed. In addition, the Dantesque passage is immediately preceded by a heavily rhymed line lyric—three stanzas rhyming aabbccdd—that would have jarred with it and cloyed more than a bit if Eliot had composed the passage in true terza rima.
Very tardily following up on a suggestion made to me in the mids by the late Professor Edmund L. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, , The Modernist in History New York: Cambridge University Press, , , that Eliot, in compos- ing his Dantesque passage, was thinking back to a blitz that had taken place in the autumn of Regarding the purgatorial aspects of this passage, it should be mentioned that ire is the ancient element that presides over this quartet, the destructive ire of the German bombs contrasting with the reining ire that Dante, following the lead of Arnaut, must traverse to purge himself of the sin of lust in Canto 27 of the Purgatorio, before he can set eyes on the spirit of his chastely-loved Beatrice.
Doubleday Anchor, , Thomas Micchelli, Involuntary Contractions. Canto XV Now we proceed by one of the stony borders That the vapor from the stream overshades, Sparing the banks and water from the ire. Just as the Flemings, between Wissant and Bruges, Fearing the tide that rushes in against them, Erect a bulwark to drive back the sea; And as the Paduans, along the Brenta, Act to protect their castles and their towns Before the heat is felt in Carentana; In similar fashion had those banks been made, Except that—whoever he was—their builder Made them neither as lofty nor as broad.
Pur ier mattina le volsi le spalle: Yesterday morning I turned my back on it. Ancient report accuses them of blindness— A greedy people, envious and proud. Make sure you cleanse yourself of all their customs. Let the Fiesolan beasts make their fodder Of themselves alone, and not touch the plant If any yet can sprout upon their dungheap In which there still survives the holy seed Of the old Roman founders who remained there When it became a nest of wickedness.
Ed elli a me: Gente vien con la quale esser non deggio. Of this, however, I can now assure you: Provided that my conscience does not chide, I am prepared for Fortune, as she wishes. And he to me: In brief, know that they all were clericals Or learned men of letters who were famous, Deiled by the same sin, up in the world.
Although I would say more, my speech and detour Must not be any longer, for I see New clouds of smoke rise from the sand ahead there: People approach with whom I must not be. And so, let me commend to you my Treasure, In which I still live on; I ask no more. Come quando ti rivolgesti e con la mano, sgombra la fronte dalla nube dei capelli, mi salutasti - per entrar nel buio.
Troppo tardi se vuoi esser te stessa! As on the day You turned, and with your hand, after you cleared Your forehead of its cloud of hair, you bade Farewell to me - to vanish in the dark. Along the Beach The wind grows loud, the dark to shreds is shattered; the shadow you send out over the fragile fence is now curling up. Too late already if you still wish to be yourself.
The mouse thuds from the palm, a gleam is on the fuse, upon the long, long lashes of your gaze. Nothing, let me nothing know of you, and let me ever from the lash of your eyes lee. Quite different this earth. Empty, upon the edge the wave is breaking, breaks at Finisterre. In Sleep The singing of the screech owls, while a rainbow loses with intermittent throbs its glow, the moans and the sighs of youth, the error that enwraps the temples and the vague horror of the cedars shaken by the strong impact of the night - all this may well come back to me, low out of ditches, break forth from pipelines, and awaken me to your voice.
Harshly sounding, now a jig cruelly stings, the foe lowers his visor over his face. The amaranth moon steps in into my closed eyes, and it is a cloud that swells, and when sleep takes it deeper down, it is blood lowing even beyond death. Tu gli appartieni e non lo sai.
Sei lui, ti credi te. Gli orecchini Non serba ombra di voli il nerofumo della spera. Nella cornice tornano le molli meduse della sera.
It is for us that streak of light that climbs from the sea to the park and wounds the aloes. But it is not so, not so at all. The octopus that winds its inky tentacles amid the shoals can learn from you. You do belong with him, and know it not. The sponge has passed and from the gilded circle has wiped all helpless glimmers soon away. There I was looking for your stones, your corals, and the strong fascination ruling you; I shun a goddess loath to being lesh, and bear desire till in your lame it burns.
Elytra drone outside, a senseless funeral also drones, showing that two lives mean nothing. Your imprint will appear from below: Altra luce che non calma, altre vampe, o mie edere scarlatte. It too bespeaks of you, and on my path is the whole sky, the only light you shed out of the jades encurled around your wrist, the curtain in the storm of sleep unveiled by your condonings, your reclaiming wings, o transmigrating Artemis, unharmed in all the battles of the stillborn.
Window at Fiesole Here where the cricket digs insidious holes into the clothes of vegetable silk and with its smell the camphor does not chase the moths that turn to powder in the books, the little bird climbs up the elm in whirls, and in the foliage the dark sun is stuck. The Red Lily The red lily, if one day it spread roots in your twenty-year-old heart the weir was glittering amid the sieves of the sand-diggers, lustrous leaping moles burrowed inside the reeds, and towers, lags seemed to be victorious in the rain, and the successful graft in the new sun, happened without your knowing: Il Ventaglio Ut pictura Muore chi ti riconosce?
The fan Ut pictura The confounding lips, the looks, the signs, the days now long by-gone I try to feign them there as in the disc of a telescope turned upside down, all silent and still, but far more lively. The mother-of-pearl is gleaming, and the dizzying abyss still swallows victims, but upon your cheeks the feathers pale: O ceaseless blows, when you reveal yourself, O savage lightning lashes, and O downpour upon the waves!
Must he who sees you die? Fuma il ramaiolo in cucina, un suo tondo di rilessi accentra i volti ossuti, i musi aguzzi e li protegge in fondo la magnolia se un sofio ve la getta. Right this way your form has come, to rest down in the plain mid grounded eel-pots, inally to fade just like a sigh, around - and there was not any uplooding horror there: Certainly the storm will gather them beneath that same old roof, but far away, much farther than this earth, this thunderstruck earth where both lime and blood boil in the imprint of a human foot.
The ladle is now steaming in the kitchen, mirroring in its roundness bony faces and sharpened snouts, protected at the base by a magnolia, if a gust throws it there. The spring storm shakes my ark with barking loyalty, O lost ones. Then the hazy night down in the little square, the steps, and always this hard effort to sink and rise the same for centuries, or minutes, of ghosts that never will retrieve the light of your eyes again inside the incandescent den - and still the same shouts and the long weeping on the veranda if suddenly the shot rebounds that reddens your throat and crashes your wings, O perilous herald of dawn, and in the meantime the cloisters and the hospitals awake to a lancinating sound of horns Your Flight If you appear in the ire amulets hang from your forelock, bespangling you two lights reclaim you, vying with the ditch entering the vault of thorns.
Your dress is shreds, the trampled bushes glitter anew and the ishpond illed with human tadpoles opens up to the furrows of the night. The ilthy selvage, oh do not disturb, and leave the burning piles around, the acrid smoke over survivors! Dustin Mulcahey at the keys, February A high-school classmate and lifelong friend of Orville and Wilbur Wright, Dunbar was president of his class and of the literary society, and editor of the school newspaper, despite being the only black student.
After graduation he worked for a while as an elevator operator. Lyrics of Lowly Life , which reprinted two earlier small collections, made him famous. He published many other volumes of poetry and iction, including the excellent novel The Sport of the Gods , before his early death from tuberculosis. His popularity ultimately led to his being honored by President Theodore Roosevelt, but his end was sad.
Depressed by ill health and a failed marriage, he felt also that the need to support himself by his writing had prevented his growth as an artist. Yet a century after his death his work re- mains in print and his reputation is secure. Marilyn Nelson was born in in Cleveland, Ohio, the daughter of an elementary school teacher and an oficer in the U. Air Force who had been one of the Tuskegee Airmen. After growing up on various Air Force bases around the country, she earned a B.
She taught at various institutions, including the Uni- versity of Connecticut She has also published several books for children and young adults, as well as translations of the Hecuba of Euripides and volumes of selections from the Danish poets Inge Pedersen and Halfdan Rasmussen. Paul Laurence Dunbar We Wear the Mask We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask. We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile; But let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask! Theology There is a heaven, for ever, day by day, The upward longing of my soul doth tell me so.
It may be misery never to be loved, But deeper griefs than these beset the way. No, che gli altri ci vedano soltanto Se la maschera portiamo. Noi sorridiamo, O grande Cristo, il nostro lamento Verso te sale da anime in tormento. To have just missed the perfect love, Not the hot passion of untempered youth, But that which lays aside its vanity, And gives thee, for thy trusting worship, truth— This, this it is to be accursed indeed; For if we mortals love, or if we sing, We count our joys not by the things we have, But by what kept us from the perfect thing.
Washington The word is writ that he who runs may read. What is the passing breath of earthly fame? But to snatch glory from the hands of blame— That is to be, to live, to strive indeed. Strong, silent, purposeful beyond his kind, The mark of rugged force on brow and lip, Straight on he goes, nor turns to look behind Where hot the hounds come baying at his hip; With one idea foremost in his mind, Like the keen prow of some on-forging ship.
Ma chi alla colpa la gloria ha strappato — Sicuramente esiste, vive, lotta. Men court not death When there are sweets still left in life to taste. Nor will a brave man choose to live when he, Full deeply drunk of life, has reached the dregs, And knows that now but bitterness remains. He is the coward who, outfaced in this, Fears the false goblins of another life. I honor him who being much harassed Drinks of sweet courage until drunk of it,— Then seizing Death, reluctant, by the hand, Leaps with him, fearless, to eternal peace!
Sympathy I know what the caged bird feels, alas! When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass, And the river lows like a stream of glass; When the irst bird sings and the irst bud opes, And the faint perfume from its chalice steals— I know what the caged bird feels! I know why the caged bird beats his wing Till its blood is red on the cruel bars; For he must ly back to his perch and cling When he fain would be on the bough a-swing; And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars And they pulse again with a keener sting— I know why he beats his wing!
Non corteggia la morte Quando la vita ancora offre dolcezze. E sa che ora solo amarezza resta. The Manumission Requiem In , a slave named Fortune died at about the age of Preserved Porter, rendered the bones of his former slave so he could use the skeleton as a teaching tool. Over the years, the skeleton was lost and found. It was boarded up in an attic, then discovered by a crew of work- ers hired to renovate an old building. Preface Fortune was born; he died. Between those truths stretched years of drudgery, years of pit-deep sleep in which he hauled and lifted, dug and plowed, glimpsing the steep impossibility of freedom.
They say work broke his back: Before it healed, they say, he suffered years of wrenching pain. His wife was worth ten dollars. And their son a hundred sixty-six. A man unmanned, he must sometimes have waked with balled-up ists. A white priest painted water on his head and Fortune may or may not have believed, whom Christ offered no respite, no reprieve, only salvation.
Was he good or bad? Il suo padrone, Dott. Preserved Porter1, sciolse le ossa del suo defunto schiavo in modo da poterle utilizzare per insegnare. Il nome di Fortune venne dimenticato per quasi un intero secolo. Nel corso degli anni lo scheletro venne perso e poi ritrovato. Le ossa di Fortune ci dicono che era forte; parlano di vasti terreni dissodati, di alti muri di pietra. Ci dicono che il lavoro gli aveva spezzato la schiena: Prima [che fosse guarito, ci dicono, ha sofferto anni di dolore lancinante.
Sua moglie valeva dieci dollari. E il loro iglio centosessantasei. His bones say only that he served and died, that he was useful, even into death, stripped of his name, his story, and his lesh. She make me take the dust rag and the broom and clean around my husband, hanging there.
Since she seen Fortune head in that big pot Miss Lydia say that room make her feel ill, sick with the thought of boiling human broth. I wonder how she think it make me feel? To dust the hands what use to stroke my breast; to dust the arms what hold me when I cried; to dust where his soft lips were, and his chest what curved its warm against my back at night. Through every season, sun-up to star light, I heft, scrub, knead: The world so white, nobody know my pain, but Fortune bones. On Abrigador Hill Dr.
I have manipulated joints, cracked necks, and set my neighbors back to work. Era buono o cattivo? Qualche volta ha tirato indietro la testa scoppiando a [ridere? Dice che non ce la fa a stare in quella stanza: Ma pensa mai a come mi sento io? Spolvero le mani che mi accarezzavano il seno; spolvero le braccia che mi tenevano stretta quando [piangevo; spolvero quello che resta delle labbra, del petto del ventre che di notte mi scaldava la schiena. Su Abrigador Hill Dott. Herewith begins my dissection of the former body of my former slave, which served him who served me throughout his life, and now serves the advance of science.
Note well how death softens the human skin, making it almost transparent, so that under my reverent knife— the irst cut takes my breath away; it feels like cutting the whole world— it falls open like bridal gossamer. And I am humbled by ignorance, humbled by ignorance. Standing on a new continent beyond the boundaries of nakedness, I am forever changed by what I see: In profound and awful intimacy, I enter Fortune, and he enters me.
Ho fatto salassi e ho purgato febbri e umori, ho vaccinato contro il vaiolo, ho prescritto aria buona e verdure, olio di fegato di merluzzo e laudano, e ho chiuso gli occhi senza luce dei morti di fresco. It was easier to face him with an imaginary name. For Fortune was an image of myself: Gentle Jesus, have mercy. Dispassionate and curious his gaze, patients tell me, from the corner. Or we took the skull out of its wooden box, and with a leg rolled it around the dusty loor.
Look what was boarded up-a in the wall! We stand-a with our caps over our hearts and say an Ave Maria. Senza un nome immaginario era impossibile stargli di fronte. A volte tiravamo il teschio fuori dalla sua scatola di legno, e usando una delle gambe lo facevamo rotolare sulla polvere del pavimento. Guarda cosa ho trovato incastrato nel muro! This skeleton was just my temporary home. Elementary molecules converged for a breath, then danced on beyond my individual death.
And I am not my body, I am not my body.
We are brief incarnations, we are clouds in clothes. We are water respirators, we are how earth knows. I bore light passed on from an original lame; while it was in my hands it was called by my name. But I am not my body, I am not my body. Non sono le mie ossa Fortune Non ero questo corpo, non ero queste ossa. Questo scheletro era solo un rifugio temporaneo. E io non sono il mio corpo, io non sono il mio corpo. Siamo brevi incarnazioni, siamo nuvole in camicia. Ma io non sono il mio corpo io non sono il mio corpo. But you are not your body, you are not your body. You can murder hope, you can pound faith lat, but, like weeds and wildlowers, they grow right back.
For you are not your body, you are not your body. You are not your body, you are not your bones. Well, I woke up this morning just so glad to be free, glad to be free, glad to be free. I woke up this morning in restful peace. For I am not my body, I am not my bones. I am not my body, glory hallelujah, not my bones. I am not my bones. Sanctus Holy of Holies, thy creating name be raised above all barriers.
Each and every one of us is Fortune, for a brief, mortal time. Then we are compost. Mother of all Holiness, cradle us so we can hear the truth of your heartbeat. Voglio dirti una cosa, e ti dico il vero: Ma tu non sei il tuo corpo, tu non sei il tuo corpo. Vaga per le mute geometrie dei cieli notturni. Tu non sei il tuo corpo, tu non sei il tuo le tue ossa. Io non sono il mio corpo, gloria, alleluia, non sono le mie ossa, io non sono le mie ossa. Sanctus Santo fra i Santi, il tuo nome origine della creazione sia lodato oltre ogni conine. E poi diventiamo concime. Eternal source of all identity, call our true names when we forsake our bones.
Magnetic center of the universe, make us iron ilings. Be to us what south is to autumn geese. Call us home, Lord, call us home. Call us home, Lord, set us free. Anche se ci siamo allontanati da casa, chiamaci a te. Facci tornare a casa, Signore, facci tornare a casa. Facci tornare a casa, Signore, vieni a liberarci. John Avelluto, acrylic mediums and acrylic paint. Translation of Postcolonial Texts in English: Literature, Essays, Theatre and Cinema.
A widely published academic and an award-winning editor, literary translator and poet, he is writing a book on ecphrasis as intersemiotic translation. John Dennison was born in Sydney in He is currently working on a monograph on Seamus Heaney based on his doctoral dissertation. His poems have appeared and continue to appear in some of the best literary journals and anthologies, most notably the prestigious New Poetries V: Dennison is not an easy poet.
The familiarity of the themes, situations and characters he lucidly examines is deceiving. His elegant, reined and silk-smooth language is the perfect shrine both syntactically and semantically for challenging metaphysical relections. Nocturne Drawn in the shallow breath of the night, I wait for you to come back home, willing the shadows to ind your form; but how can they carry your bright step, the house of light that is your face?
My lighthouse, my love, the rocks are night all around. Standing on the porch, I drive these backroads — some hurt unwinding, some dry-mouthed valley.