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Me and a lorikeet (February 24, 2008)

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Jeremy's journal

At first I didn't quite know what I would do with the book, other than read it over and over again. My distrust of history then was still strong, and I wanted to concentrate on the story for its own sake, rather than on the manuscript's scientific, cultural, anthropological, or 'historical' value. I was drawn to the author himself.

Orhan Pamuk


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Friday, July 19th, 2013

🦋 Otros versos Aponteños

"Nunca serás escritora" se dijo
"pero"
Siempre anda hablandose sabes
y es insana
y tú también
por supuesto
en cualquier modo u otro
en cualquier modo que quieras tomarlo
que necesites esto
esta expresión que resuena
todavía
no contestada

posted evening of July 19th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Marta Aponte

Friday, August second, 2013

🦋 Glen Island

Kind of flabbergasted that I have never encountered any mention of Glen Island amusement park in the writings of Thomas Pynchon -- it seems utterly implausible that the Chums of Chance (for instance) would never have paid a visit.

posted morning of August second, 2013: 5 responses
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Monday, January 20th, 2014

🦋 Reflections on translating first-person narrative

I have been translating two stories told in the first person recently -- "Power", by Javier Sáez de Ibarra (from Bulevar), is one that I did a pretty fast rough draft of several months ago and just recently revised -- it is narrated by a factory worker who is trying to project an unwanted level of intimacy with his titular co-worker; and "A few prosaic lines" by Marta Aponte (La casa de la loca) is the story (still not totally sure I have this straight) of the wife of a poet in a village outside of San Juan,

An interesting comparison between these two is how strongly I have to twist my sense of identity to say "I" like I mean it -- I find it quite easy to identify with the "I" in Power's "friend"'s story -- less so with the poet's wife on a personal level. With her I have a hard time finding a personal center; and yet the voice of this story is attractive to me as well. The story's climactic moment is a translation of Emily Dickinson being written onto the soles of her husband and son's shoes!

Tonight, when they walk into the club, my two men will be treading, without knowing it, on a few words stolen from the yankee poetess...

posted morning of January 20th, 2014: 2 responses
➳ More posts about Translation

Monday, November 17th, 2014

🦋 1955: Lavender Mist

— My friend, you are a barbarian. You paint as if one eye were on the moon and the other on Mars. I don't like your work; but you have made me weep. And tears are the blood of sincerity.
Cool -- two publications in a row of Marta Aponte Alsina translations! A story I translated last year is included in the November issue of The Acentos Review -- 1955: Lavender Mist.

posted evening of November 17th, 2014: Respond
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