As someone who writes in a non-native language and struggles in the uncomfortable in-between space of two languages, your writing speaks to me on multiple levels. I have always believed (with no scholarly research proof but only an instinct) that if one can write well in one language, her/his potential to write well in any language is only limited by her/his belief.
When I found that writing in English was hard and thought to myself, well I could try translating. Boy, was I wrong! I recently experienced translating my *own* writings between Chinese and English, and I struggled! I struggled to translate the 语境—AI translates it to "context", but I prefer "conceptual metaphor" or "mental space".
Yi Xue, thank you so much for this thoughtful comment! I share your belief about writing – if you can do it well in your native language, you just have to overcome your fear of doing it in another foreign one. I have to say, I admire you greatly for writing in English, because Chinese is so completely different, quite a lot of obstacles for you to overcome here! "Conceptual metaphor" and "mental space" reach way further than a mere "context", and I think it's a common experience for us non-native English speakers, using this very versatile, "flexible" language.
The absolute chaos of having multiple languages in your head is unbelievable. The words bite each other, chase each other, and you feel split in half. And writing becomes a hand-to-hand fight with words and thoughts. I don't even know what it's like not to have this mess in my head. Thanks a lot Portia. I loved your piece.
Thanks, Michael, you're so kind! But, I have to say, languages stay compartmentalized in my brain. And I don't know all of them very well, so I don't have millions of words fighting for my attention. And you should hear me speaking English: I stutter and stumble every 2 words, it's frankly embarrassing.😓
You know what my American grandpa used to say when I was stuttering half Italian and half American? He said "Don't worry, kid. A good beer and a smile can fix anything." ;-)
Dear Portia, As a simple monolinguist speaker of English I wouldn't dare comment on the iterations of fica in writing. But I think it's perfectly cromulent to say here that you're pretty cool. (Thanks for that word, which five minutes ago I'd never heard of.)
You have to thank the Simpsons for cromulent, and also for "Meh!". Well, I think you're the coolest dude right now, what with you breathing in the bracing sea air, riding the waves, braving the storms on the ironically named Pacific Ocean?
Right, I missed the Simpsons' run, not thinking they were very cool at the time.
The Pacific Ocean is so huge. Probably it's pacific many places most of the time, but I think it's getting less so, which is scary. I was hoping you might weigh in on the August translation discussion but maybe it's too much like work?
No, Tod, I've been thinking about posting a reply to you for the whole week, in fact. I think you've been a bit unfair to the translator, as he followed the Polish original text and did an excellent job on a fiendishly difficult text, in my humble opinion. I read Schulz some 30 years ago, so I took his book out again on Monday - an extremely good Italian translation - and am rereading it now. Wow, what an amazing writer he was, Tod, so inventive, bold, weird and wonderful. Schulz was also an accomplished artist, and it shows. I'll try to draft something tonight or tomorrow. Watch this space, and watch out on your boat! I'll feel less anxious when I'll know you're back on land, terra ferma, again.
I live on my boat, but am tied to terra firms most of the time.
Well, I acknowledged being unfair later on. But the idea that Davies went a bit too far seemed to resonate with a lot of people, especially after reading Wieniewska. So you're saying that Davies vocabulary was consistent with Schulz. I bought The Street of Crocodiles book by Wieniewska, and tried to read some of the other stories. I just don't find Schulz very readable. I'm concluding I have a limited range as a reader.
I can't say anything about Wieniewska's translation, so I have to rely on Davies. The Italian translatorial choices are also consistent with Schulz, but Greek and Latin words sound familiar and everyday to us, unlike to an English reader or to a Polish/Slavic reader, for whom they may read too solemn or even pompous, I reckon. It takes some time to get used to Schulz style, but yesterday, I read one of those stories – "The Cinnamon Shops" – which gives the title to the book in Polish, and also in the Italian translation. It's a tale about a winter night so beautifully, delicately, lovingly crafted that I almost cried, one of best things I've ever read in my life. We have to thank George Saunders for finding Schulz again.
I'm curious if "cool" has slipped into spoken Italian. It definitely has in French, along with other untranslatable terms. Recently I've heard a lot of "chiller" and " dealer avec." Not that this helps you with your translation dilemma.
Oh yes, it has, but the client told us to translate it anyway. Another English word that's not so easily translated but has successfully spread in Italy is "cringy." Merci, Betty, quel plaisir de Vous rencontrer ici!
I loved this post and learnt a lot. I'm a big fan of the author of Nostromo, so I differ from Nabokov Conradically on that.
At best, translation is where you get paid to play with words. At worst, you don't get paid and it's not fun at all. I guess most of the time it's somewhere in the middle. Which I guess is perfectly cromulent.
Let's say we don't get paid that much, and now they all think they can replace us with AI. But yes, I still have fun translating, they'll have to pry my keyboard from my cold, dead hands, I tell ya. I loved Nostromo, and I think that Heart of Darkness is one of the most wondrous titles ever. (Not very keen on the novel itself, though, but I guess I'll have to reread it.) Thanks for your kind words, Jeffrey!
Portia, what a refined essay! From simplistic to scientific and literary, including Conrad and Nabokov. Nabokov, of course, in his usual arrogance, in his opinions. Conrad didn't have aristocratic past with mansions, estates, tutors in his childhood and later, Cambridge. But he is right in one thing - about English. His English is intelligent and correct but not spontaneous as of a native speaker. I envy you in your linguistic abilities. Very interesting essay.
Yes, Larisa, there's more than a hint of aristocratic snobbery about Nabokov, but he really loved the written word, and what he used to say about Pushkin, Tolstoy or Chekhov is full of admiration, even love. Thanks for your kind words!
Who could say some insignificant words about these Russian Giants? The more I live the less I think about Nabokov. And his Ada is impossible to read, though I read it. Portia, thank you for some subscribers.
So I'm not the only one to find Ada difficult! I hope you'll gain many subscribers, Larisa, and that you're going to post another essay on our beloved Russian poets soon..
I found it's not only difficult but not interesting to me, because the estate, the language, the people-looked like poor copy of former Russian life for him, like he wanted to return to his beloved Russia, but somewhere upstate NY. From your light hand, I will try Blok, if I won't loose again my copy. And thank you.
As always, your voice is thought provoking, instructive and beautifully written. Here’s to yes, non-derogatory meanings of words for women and that sense of belonging in our internal languages.
Thanks, Margo, you're ever so generous! Yes, I'm sick and tired of seeing the "feminine" treated like something inferior and undignified. When will some people learn that "different" doesn't mean lesser? Respect, love and peace for all – is that too much to ask for?
Thank you so much, dear Chen, I guess a true poet like you finds inspiration and solace in Pushkin, he was the very best expression of the Russian soul and essence. If only we had more Pushkins, and fewer Putins!
"Mind you, I'm perfectly aware that, compared to those shining stars (Nabokov is more of a galaxy), I am but a tiny speck of dust, If I am anything at all."
I am so in awe of anyone that can not only write, but fully communicate in multiple languages. I follow another substacker who's a young college student that's doing a semester in France and is learning the bare bones of the French language. She can mostly communicate with French people, but she says she can't understand--or make--jokes! That would MURDER me. (https://le5a7.substack.com/)
Thanks, Joseph, your endorsement means so much to me! You know, humor is so difficult to understand in another language, but give it time, and you're rewarded with a treasure trove of laughs and brilliant finds.
About you being just a speck of dust compared to galactic Nabokov, that reminds me of a scene from a short video I saw ages ago: At dawn, on a beach a man and a woman, each wearing formal clothes walk hand in hand, with their free hands holding their shoes. The unstated premise is that they have just met only hours ago, and have fallen madly in love with each other. Each takes his or her turn extravagantly praising the other, then putting themself down. This goes on for several minutes. (It's in Italian, with English subtitles.) It ends with something like :
Him: "You are a star in the heavenly firmament; I am but a clod of earth!
Her: "If you are a clod of life-giving earth, then I am but an unworthy earthworm crawling iin it!"
Him: "If you are but an earthworm, then I am the lint in that earthworm's navel!"
Her: [She stops walking, drops his hand, looks at him with disgust.] "Did you just say you are the lint in an earthworm's navel? Ewww, that is so gross! Eugh! Disgusting! [ She turns and walks away muttering 'the lint in that earthworm's navel! the lint in that earthworm's navel!"
Here's a story about a word that's kind of cool, and like cool. A long long time ago I took a French woman I had recently met in New Jersey to spend an evening in New York City. We went to the top of the Empire State Building & I pointed out many of the sites below, saying this thing was 'neat' or that thing was 'pretty neat.' She finally said, "Quest-que cela veut dire, 'neat'?" So I thought about for a bit, and what I came up with was "Ca veut dire 'chouette,' mais pas 'vachement chouette.' How'd I do?
2 or 3 reviewers have used the word 'Nabokov' in writing about my little novella Cheap Complex Devices. I gotta tell you, that was vachement cool.
Oui, John, c'est vraiment vachement cool, being mentioned with Nabokov in a literary review, quite an achievement. The earthworm's navel is a bit too much, though, I have to agree with the lady.
It's been a long time since I spoke French with any fluency. 1978 was my peak year (& 1976 was the year that my friend Claire & I went to NYC). This definition that the internet just provided corresponds to my usage of that word at that time:
That Italian short movie was made from a short section of an American play, and long ago I knew the name of the play and who wrote it. But that info no longer resides in my cranium, alas, and the Internet isn't helping me find it today.
As I recall, that 'Lovers on the beach at dawn' movie was about 6 minutes long. As the credits rolled at the end of the movie the poor guy is just standing there, dumbfounded, watching the first and last great love of his life walking away muttering "so gross! disgusting! lint in an earthworm's navel!. . ."
In the beginning you mentioned fica— Fig). Look to Shakespeare pls and the groundlings often made a hand -fist gesture with their thumb tucked under the index finger to portray their disapproval of actors or the play. The gesture was called giving the fig. Similar to the modern third finger expletive.
Thanks, Richard! That's uncanny similar to the Russian idiom pokazyvat' figu (показывать фигу), with the same meaning, though literally it's "to show the fig." How did it reach Russia from Elizabethan England?
Una piccola curiosità. Nel dialetto veneto esiste un termine parzialmente assimilabile a "figo", cioé "tògo" (https://www.treccani.it/vocabolario/togo1/), che però oggi è poco usato.
"Ganzo" lo usavo molto da piccola, quando abitavo in Toscana. "Togo" è una parola fichissima, anche perché mi ricorda il biscotto croccante, ricoperto di cioccolato. Chissà se li vendono ancora. Grazie dei graditissimi, colti commenti, Gianni e Historia Minuta!
Portia: You have my highest respect and love for what you do.
I am bilingual with German, and LOVE German literature and philosophy, reading many current and recent writers, Johanna Moosdorf, Ingeborg Bachmann, Irmgard Keun, Antje Rávik Strubel, Monika Helfer, and, one of the best, Iris Wolff.
But you seem to master not only Italian -- how I envy you --- but Russian. God, how I would love to be able to read Pushkin and Dostoevsky (who REALLY loved Pushkin) in all the subtleties of the Russian language.
One person you may be quite interested in is Swetlana Geier and her "Fünf Elefanten":
Dear Armand, thanks for your generous, interesting comment, full of names I'd like to know better. German is a wonderful language, and the poetry, painting, and music by German authors and artists are among the pinnacles of human creative achievements. Ms Geier is surely a remarkably skilled lady and translator.
I've always been in awe of those who write in a language not their own. As for translating, you've captured the complexity of trying to smuggle a word has no real equivalent in the target language across the cultural-linguistic border. It can be frustrating, but it's also fun.
Such a wonderful series Portia!
As someone who writes in a non-native language and struggles in the uncomfortable in-between space of two languages, your writing speaks to me on multiple levels. I have always believed (with no scholarly research proof but only an instinct) that if one can write well in one language, her/his potential to write well in any language is only limited by her/his belief.
When I found that writing in English was hard and thought to myself, well I could try translating. Boy, was I wrong! I recently experienced translating my *own* writings between Chinese and English, and I struggled! I struggled to translate the 语境—AI translates it to "context", but I prefer "conceptual metaphor" or "mental space".
Yi Xue, thank you so much for this thoughtful comment! I share your belief about writing – if you can do it well in your native language, you just have to overcome your fear of doing it in another foreign one. I have to say, I admire you greatly for writing in English, because Chinese is so completely different, quite a lot of obstacles for you to overcome here! "Conceptual metaphor" and "mental space" reach way further than a mere "context", and I think it's a common experience for us non-native English speakers, using this very versatile, "flexible" language.
The absolute chaos of having multiple languages in your head is unbelievable. The words bite each other, chase each other, and you feel split in half. And writing becomes a hand-to-hand fight with words and thoughts. I don't even know what it's like not to have this mess in my head. Thanks a lot Portia. I loved your piece.
Thanks, Michael, you're so kind! But, I have to say, languages stay compartmentalized in my brain. And I don't know all of them very well, so I don't have millions of words fighting for my attention. And you should hear me speaking English: I stutter and stumble every 2 words, it's frankly embarrassing.😓
You know what my American grandpa used to say when I was stuttering half Italian and half American? He said "Don't worry, kid. A good beer and a smile can fix anything." ;-)
Wise words.😎
Dear Portia, As a simple monolinguist speaker of English I wouldn't dare comment on the iterations of fica in writing. But I think it's perfectly cromulent to say here that you're pretty cool. (Thanks for that word, which five minutes ago I'd never heard of.)
You have to thank the Simpsons for cromulent, and also for "Meh!". Well, I think you're the coolest dude right now, what with you breathing in the bracing sea air, riding the waves, braving the storms on the ironically named Pacific Ocean?
Right, I missed the Simpsons' run, not thinking they were very cool at the time.
The Pacific Ocean is so huge. Probably it's pacific many places most of the time, but I think it's getting less so, which is scary. I was hoping you might weigh in on the August translation discussion but maybe it's too much like work?
No, Tod, I've been thinking about posting a reply to you for the whole week, in fact. I think you've been a bit unfair to the translator, as he followed the Polish original text and did an excellent job on a fiendishly difficult text, in my humble opinion. I read Schulz some 30 years ago, so I took his book out again on Monday - an extremely good Italian translation - and am rereading it now. Wow, what an amazing writer he was, Tod, so inventive, bold, weird and wonderful. Schulz was also an accomplished artist, and it shows. I'll try to draft something tonight or tomorrow. Watch this space, and watch out on your boat! I'll feel less anxious when I'll know you're back on land, terra ferma, again.
I live on my boat, but am tied to terra firms most of the time.
Well, I acknowledged being unfair later on. But the idea that Davies went a bit too far seemed to resonate with a lot of people, especially after reading Wieniewska. So you're saying that Davies vocabulary was consistent with Schulz. I bought The Street of Crocodiles book by Wieniewska, and tried to read some of the other stories. I just don't find Schulz very readable. I'm concluding I have a limited range as a reader.
I can't say anything about Wieniewska's translation, so I have to rely on Davies. The Italian translatorial choices are also consistent with Schulz, but Greek and Latin words sound familiar and everyday to us, unlike to an English reader or to a Polish/Slavic reader, for whom they may read too solemn or even pompous, I reckon. It takes some time to get used to Schulz style, but yesterday, I read one of those stories – "The Cinnamon Shops" – which gives the title to the book in Polish, and also in the Italian translation. It's a tale about a winter night so beautifully, delicately, lovingly crafted that I almost cried, one of best things I've ever read in my life. We have to thank George Saunders for finding Schulz again.
I'm curious if "cool" has slipped into spoken Italian. It definitely has in French, along with other untranslatable terms. Recently I've heard a lot of "chiller" and " dealer avec." Not that this helps you with your translation dilemma.
Oh yes, it has, but the client told us to translate it anyway. Another English word that's not so easily translated but has successfully spread in Italy is "cringy." Merci, Betty, quel plaisir de Vous rencontrer ici!
Oh wow. I haven't heard "cringy" in French, but younger people are likely saying it!
I have to say that it conveys a lot of meaning in just 2 syllables.
I loved this post and learnt a lot. I'm a big fan of the author of Nostromo, so I differ from Nabokov Conradically on that.
At best, translation is where you get paid to play with words. At worst, you don't get paid and it's not fun at all. I guess most of the time it's somewhere in the middle. Which I guess is perfectly cromulent.
Let's say we don't get paid that much, and now they all think they can replace us with AI. But yes, I still have fun translating, they'll have to pry my keyboard from my cold, dead hands, I tell ya. I loved Nostromo, and I think that Heart of Darkness is one of the most wondrous titles ever. (Not very keen on the novel itself, though, but I guess I'll have to reread it.) Thanks for your kind words, Jeffrey!
Finalmente sei tornata... ci sei mancata.
Quand'è che tornerai tu, Gianni san? Grazie mille!
Portia, what a refined essay! From simplistic to scientific and literary, including Conrad and Nabokov. Nabokov, of course, in his usual arrogance, in his opinions. Conrad didn't have aristocratic past with mansions, estates, tutors in his childhood and later, Cambridge. But he is right in one thing - about English. His English is intelligent and correct but not spontaneous as of a native speaker. I envy you in your linguistic abilities. Very interesting essay.
Yes, Larisa, there's more than a hint of aristocratic snobbery about Nabokov, but he really loved the written word, and what he used to say about Pushkin, Tolstoy or Chekhov is full of admiration, even love. Thanks for your kind words!
Who could say some insignificant words about these Russian Giants? The more I live the less I think about Nabokov. And his Ada is impossible to read, though I read it. Portia, thank you for some subscribers.
So I'm not the only one to find Ada difficult! I hope you'll gain many subscribers, Larisa, and that you're going to post another essay on our beloved Russian poets soon..
I found it's not only difficult but not interesting to me, because the estate, the language, the people-looked like poor copy of former Russian life for him, like he wanted to return to his beloved Russia, but somewhere upstate NY. From your light hand, I will try Blok, if I won't loose again my copy. And thank you.
You, dear Portia, are no speck of dust. You are amazing.
Oh Tim, how sweet you can be, when you put your heart in it. Thank you so much, you're not that bad either. 😉
aw, shucks... :-)
As always, your voice is thought provoking, instructive and beautifully written. Here’s to yes, non-derogatory meanings of words for women and that sense of belonging in our internal languages.
Thanks, Margo, you're ever so generous! Yes, I'm sick and tired of seeing the "feminine" treated like something inferior and undignified. When will some people learn that "different" doesn't mean lesser? Respect, love and peace for all – is that too much to ask for?
..just to say that I enjoyed this post beyond any words, and that I have the very same Pushkin edition!!!
(I think I re-read two of three tomes recently, last year, it was, or this, don't remember?)
yeah..it was hard "to find grace in Nabokov's eyes" ...oh my I still have several books of him to read
thank you, thank you!!
Thank you so much, dear Chen, I guess a true poet like you finds inspiration and solace in Pushkin, he was the very best expression of the Russian soul and essence. If only we had more Pushkins, and fewer Putins!
I'm not a true poet, alas-but if to think of it, and I've been doing some thinking lately, having some insights -Pushkin's is my biggest influence.
And- his genius really transcends any borders
🩵💫
"Mind you, I'm perfectly aware that, compared to those shining stars (Nabokov is more of a galaxy), I am but a tiny speck of dust, If I am anything at all."
***
If I can quote Kansas lyrics, we are all dust in the wind. (https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=9fNrJMkTWEE)
I am so in awe of anyone that can not only write, but fully communicate in multiple languages. I follow another substacker who's a young college student that's doing a semester in France and is learning the bare bones of the French language. She can mostly communicate with French people, but she says she can't understand--or make--jokes! That would MURDER me. (https://le5a7.substack.com/)
Anyway, keep doing what you do. Excellent piece!
Thanks, Joseph, your endorsement means so much to me! You know, humor is so difficult to understand in another language, but give it time, and you're rewarded with a treasure trove of laughs and brilliant finds.
Thank you, I enjoyed this very much.
About you being just a speck of dust compared to galactic Nabokov, that reminds me of a scene from a short video I saw ages ago: At dawn, on a beach a man and a woman, each wearing formal clothes walk hand in hand, with their free hands holding their shoes. The unstated premise is that they have just met only hours ago, and have fallen madly in love with each other. Each takes his or her turn extravagantly praising the other, then putting themself down. This goes on for several minutes. (It's in Italian, with English subtitles.) It ends with something like :
Him: "You are a star in the heavenly firmament; I am but a clod of earth!
Her: "If you are a clod of life-giving earth, then I am but an unworthy earthworm crawling iin it!"
Him: "If you are but an earthworm, then I am the lint in that earthworm's navel!"
Her: [She stops walking, drops his hand, looks at him with disgust.] "Did you just say you are the lint in an earthworm's navel? Ewww, that is so gross! Eugh! Disgusting! [ She turns and walks away muttering 'the lint in that earthworm's navel! the lint in that earthworm's navel!"
Here's a story about a word that's kind of cool, and like cool. A long long time ago I took a French woman I had recently met in New Jersey to spend an evening in New York City. We went to the top of the Empire State Building & I pointed out many of the sites below, saying this thing was 'neat' or that thing was 'pretty neat.' She finally said, "Quest-que cela veut dire, 'neat'?" So I thought about for a bit, and what I came up with was "Ca veut dire 'chouette,' mais pas 'vachement chouette.' How'd I do?
2 or 3 reviewers have used the word 'Nabokov' in writing about my little novella Cheap Complex Devices. I gotta tell you, that was vachement cool.
Oui, John, c'est vraiment vachement cool, being mentioned with Nabokov in a literary review, quite an achievement. The earthworm's navel is a bit too much, though, I have to agree with the lady.
Isn't "chouette" rather close to the commonest 20th century American meaning given to the word "cute"?
American tourist, on seeing a village church... Example much repeated by gobsmacked English natives:
"Why if that ain't the cutest little God-box I ever did see!"
Cute and chouette make sense. God-box? I wonder what the same tourist would make of San Pietro's church at the Vatican.
It's been a long time since I spoke French with any fluency. 1978 was my peak year (& 1976 was the year that my friend Claire & I went to NYC). This definition that the internet just provided corresponds to my usage of that word at that time:
chouette (adjective): great, nice or cool.
Ta copine est chouette.
Your girlfriend is nice.
chouette (exclamation): great, nice or cool
C'est chouette!
That's great!
Très chouette!
Very cool!
I also like génial in French, it's more like Brilliant, or Awesome, just like you, John.
Aw, shucks. Right back atcha!
That Italian short movie was made from a short section of an American play, and long ago I knew the name of the play and who wrote it. But that info no longer resides in my cranium, alas, and the Internet isn't helping me find it today.
As I recall, that 'Lovers on the beach at dawn' movie was about 6 minutes long. As the credits rolled at the end of the movie the poor guy is just standing there, dumbfounded, watching the first and last great love of his life walking away muttering "so gross! disgusting! lint in an earthworm's navel!. . ."
In the beginning you mentioned fica— Fig). Look to Shakespeare pls and the groundlings often made a hand -fist gesture with their thumb tucked under the index finger to portray their disapproval of actors or the play. The gesture was called giving the fig. Similar to the modern third finger expletive.
Thanks, Richard! That's uncanny similar to the Russian idiom pokazyvat' figu (показывать фигу), with the same meaning, though literally it's "to show the fig." How did it reach Russia from Elizabethan England?
Oh no! On the other hand, the lady could have been more forgiving, and steered him on the right path of a good metaphor.
Perhaps. But then I never would have experienced one of the funniest movies I've ever seen.
Una piccola curiosità. Nel dialetto veneto esiste un termine parzialmente assimilabile a "figo", cioé "tògo" (https://www.treccani.it/vocabolario/togo1/), che però oggi è poco usato.
Quando ero un bambino, "togo" era popolare anche dalle mie parti, a La Spezia. Chissa' come ci e' arrivato.
Poi ci sarebbe anche "ganzo"... tutti termini non molto raffinati.
"Ganzo" lo usavo molto da piccola, quando abitavo in Toscana. "Togo" è una parola fichissima, anche perché mi ricorda il biscotto croccante, ricoperto di cioccolato. Chissà se li vendono ancora. Grazie dei graditissimi, colti commenti, Gianni e Historia Minuta!
Portia: You have my highest respect and love for what you do.
I am bilingual with German, and LOVE German literature and philosophy, reading many current and recent writers, Johanna Moosdorf, Ingeborg Bachmann, Irmgard Keun, Antje Rávik Strubel, Monika Helfer, and, one of the best, Iris Wolff.
But you seem to master not only Italian -- how I envy you --- but Russian. God, how I would love to be able to read Pushkin and Dostoevsky (who REALLY loved Pushkin) in all the subtleties of the Russian language.
One person you may be quite interested in is Swetlana Geier and her "Fünf Elefanten":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=juePjXY-Enw
The "five elephants" are, of course, the five great novels of Fyodor Mikhailovitsch Dostoevsky.
Swetlana Geier grew up under unique circumstances that gifted her with Russian and German as native languages.
Swetlana Geier, to me, makes the best translations of Dostoevsky in German or in English.
Thank you so very much for your sharing!
Dear Armand, thanks for your generous, interesting comment, full of names I'd like to know better. German is a wonderful language, and the poetry, painting, and music by German authors and artists are among the pinnacles of human creative achievements. Ms Geier is surely a remarkably skilled lady and translator.
I've always been in awe of those who write in a language not their own. As for translating, you've captured the complexity of trying to smuggle a word has no real equivalent in the target language across the cultural-linguistic border. It can be frustrating, but it's also fun.
It is fun, David, that much is true. I'm so looking forward to reading your next translation of La Comtesse's novel!