The READIN Family Album
Me and Sylvia, smiling for the camera (August 2005)

READIN

Jeremy's journal

I was born with a mind that suffers from the incurable disease of worrying precisely about what could or might have been.

Cipriano Algor


(This is a page from my archives)
Front page
More recent posts
Older posts

Archives index
Subscribe to RSS

This page renders best in Firefox (or Safari, or Chrome)

Monday, May 25th, 2009

🦋 Hoaxing

Here is what is confusing me about "Instantes": what was the impetus for Mauricio Ciechanower to publish the poem under Borges' name, and for Elena Poniatowska to back him up (if I'm reading correctly) with a fabricated interview? Were they playing a joke? If so it is an excellent one -- if they were attempting a fraud in earnest it just seems really weird: why? what is the profit for them?... And then if it was a joke, was Alastair Reid in on the joke, or was he duped? He is alive and one could ask him (Poniatowska is also still kicking, don't know about Ciechanower); I don't understand why Almeida did not.

posted morning of May 25th, 2009: Respond
➳ More posts about Jorge Luis Borges

🦋 Subjunctive Attributions

I did not quite catch this last night; but it is hilarious: Almeida's article is titled "Jorge Luis Borges, author of the poem 'Moments'"; and it is prefaced with a highly relevant quotation from "Pierre Menard".

posted morning of May 25th, 2009: Respond
➳ More posts about Pierre Menard, author of the Quixote

Sunday, May 24th, 2009

🦋 A flor máis grande do mundo

Saramago has made his entry into animation! Juan Pablo Etcheverry animated "A flor máis grande do mundo" based on Saramago's book A maior flor do mundo, which doesn't seem to be in translation -- I had never heard of it before I saw Saramago's post about the cartoon just now. It is his only children's book, written in the 70's -- oops; not reading closely. The idea is from the 70's but the book was not written until 2000.

posted evening of May 24th, 2009: Respond
➳ More posts about Saramago's Notebook

🦋 Subjunctive

Huh: weird! I happened on this poem today, attributed to Borges and with a translation attributed to Alastair Reid. I was kind of taken with it, especially with the way the whole poem is subjunctive and the return to declarative voice in the final line feels kind of crushing. Checking for links with more information about this poem I find many, many pages reprinting the poem and attributing it to Borges, and also two articles (one by Iván Almeida, published in Borges Studies Online, and a shorter one by Eugenio Siccardi which refers to Almeida's piece) denying that Borges wrote this poem. I haven't read Almeida's whole article -- it's late and I'm tired, and I don't speak Spanish -- but he looks to know what he's talking about. Interesting -- what strikes me as really weird about this is attributing a translation of the fraudulent poem to Reid. I hope to have another go at the article tomorrow and see how this plays out.

Instantes

(no por Borges)

Si pudiera vivir nuevamente mi vida.
En la próxima trataría de cometer más errores.
No intentaría ser tan perfecto, me relajaría más.
Sería más tonto de lo que he sido, de hecho
tomaría muy pocas cosas con seriedad.
Sería menos higiénico.
Correría más riesgos, haría más viajes, contemplaría
más atardeceres, subiría más montañas, nadaría más ríos.
Iría a más lugares adonde nunca he ido, comería
más helados y menos habas, tendría más problemas
reales y menos imaginarios.
Yo fui una de esas personas que vivió sensata y prolíficamente
cada minuto de su vida; claro que tuve momentos de alegría.
Pero si pudiera volver atrás trataría de tener
solamente buenos momentos.
Por si no lo saben, de eso está hecha la vida, sólo de momentos;
no te pierdas el ahora.
Yo era uno de esos que nunca iban a ninguna parte sin
termómetro, una bolsa de agua caliente, un paraguas y un paracaídas;
Si pudiera volver a vivir, viajaría más liviano.
Si pudiera volver a vivir comenzaría a andar descalzo a principios
de la primavera y seguiría así hasta concluir el otoño.
Daría más vueltas en calesita, contemplaría más amaneceres
y jugaría con más niños, si tuviera otra vez la vida por delante.
Pero ya tengo 85 años y sé que me estoy muriendo.

A little more: Almeida says Reid did publish this translation, in Queen's Quarterly of Autumn 1992, and seems to be a bit mystified as to why he would have done that. "Perhaps the history of literature is the history of grand errors in reading." Almeida finds the original author of this poem to be Nadine Stair of Kentucky, published in the March 27 1978 issue of Family Circle (Almeida bizarrely calls the magazine Family Circus). ...According to Bryon Crawford, the author's real name was Nadine Strain.

posted evening of May 24th, 2009: 3 responses
➳ More posts about Readings

Wednesday, May 20th, 2009

🦋 Hypallage

Wow, sometimes a passage of reading just sends you scrambling for reference materials...

A izquierda y a la derecha, absortos en su lúcido sueño, se perfilan los rostros momentáneos de los lectores, a la luz de las lámparas estudiosas, como en la hipálage de Milton.

This comes from the dedication at the front of Borges' El hacedor -- Borges is dedicating the book to his deceased countryman Leopoldo Lugones, and imagining a library where he would give the book to Lugones. "To the left and to the right, absorbed in their lucid dream, the momentary faces of the readers are outlined in the light of the studious lamps, as in the hypallage of Milton." Wait -- the what of Milton?

Wikipædia is useful as normal -- "studious lamps" is a hypallage, an application of the adjective to a different word than the one it's actually describing. Now I was curious and wanted to know why Borges was making reference to Milton here. So I looked; and in the course of surfing around trying to figure it out, made a very useful discovery.

In Dreamtigers, Mildred Boyer translates "lámparas estudiosas" as "bright officious lamps" -- why? A search for that phrase brings one directly to the source passage in Milton -- Paradise Lost IX.103-4:

Terrestrial Heav'n, danced round by other Heav'ns,
That shine, yet bear their bright, officious lamps
I spent a little while trying to figure this one out -- is "officious" rendered as "estudiosas" in the Spanish translation of Milton? That would not make a lot of sense, and besides I'm sure Borges read Milton in English. Ultimately I think it is just a really weird choice on Boyer's part -- Borges is not quoting Milton, he's alluding to him, but Boyer seems to be committed to a reading that says Borges is quoting Milton -- and thus makes the usage not be a hypallage but simply an incoherency. But look at how Andrew Hurley translates the passage in Collected Fictions:
To left and right, absorbed in their waking dream, rows of readers' momentary profiles in the light of the 'scholarly lamps,' as a Miltonian displacement of adjectives would have it.
This is a little wordy maybe -- but it communicates the image in Borges' piece precisely, indeed it allows me to see the image much more clearly than I had when I was grappling with this unfamiliar word "hypallage".

I came across Hurley's translation in an essay he wrote for Cadernos de Tradução, the journal of the translation department at Universida de Federal de Santa Caterina in Florianópolis, Brasil: What I Lost When I Translated Jorge Luis Borges [PDF]. It is a magnificent article and I want to post about it in more detail, but I strongly encourage anyone interested in Borges to read it. One of Hurley's points in this piece is that the hypallage is a key element of Borges' style.

In the following sentences, Borges refers to two more instances of hypallage: the "arid camel" from Lugones' own Lunario sentimental, and Æneid VI.268:

Ibant obscuri sola sub nocte per umbram
(approx. "They passed in darkness under the lonely night through shadow." -- according to Borges, a line that both "employs and surpasses this artifice.")

You can hear Borges reading this dedication at Poema en audio. Lots more of his readings there too, which I haven't begun to check through yet.

posted evening of May 20th, 2009: 7 responses
➳ More posts about The Maker

🦋 Les Plages d'Agnès

Looking at the Film Forum's web site yesterday to see what was playing this summer, I was really excited to see that Agnès Varda's Les Plages d'Agnès will be opening in July. I heard this movie was in post-production last year and have been anticipating it eagerly ever since. It's an autobiographical piece, a look back at Varda's career; should be a lot of fun. If you're going to be in town in early July, give me a holler -- we should make plans to see it.

Varda also has a funny brief interview with Michael Musto in the Voice.

posted evening of May 20th, 2009: Respond
➳ More posts about Les Plages d'Agnès

Tuesday, May 19th, 2009

🦋 Quaint

A friend gave me Paulo Coelho's The Devil and Miss Prym for my birthday, and I've been reading it for the last couple of days. Some nice language but what is notably lacking is a sense of place -- the village is ostensibly in Galicia but there's nothing that really makes me think of this particular village in Galicia distinct from any other small town in any other country. This seems like a shortcoming to me -- Coelho is very obviously going for an impression of universality but he has not established the particulars of his story firmly enough for that to work for me. This is a working impression though, there is still a lot more book to read and it could turn around.

posted evening of May 19th, 2009: Respond

🦋 El hacedor

Padeces cautiverio, pero habrás dado una palabra al poema.
I was reading from Labyrinths this afternoon and took a look at the third section of the book, "Parables", which had totally slipped from my memory. It is very short pieces, a page or less, not quite "fictions" because they are not plotted, just quick, terse observations of the human condition. The first two pieces, "Inferno, I, 32" and "Paradisio, XXXI, 108" use Dante's comedy to posit the impossibility of knowing one's place in the universe. Sharp and sweet. It looks like these pieces are almost all taken from Borges' 1960 book El hacedor (I think this is roughly "The Creator"; it was published in English as "Dreamtigers"), which is available online from literatura.us -- I think I will try to read some of them in their original language. (A note about translations, though: the translations in Labyrinths, mostly done by James E. Irby, are head and shoulders above the other Borges translations I've been looking at, mostly by Anthony Bonner.)
Perhaps some feature of that crucified countenance lurks in every mirror; perhaps the face died, was obliterated, so that God could be all of us.

Who knows whether tonight we shall not see it in the labyrinth of our dreams and not even know it tomorrow.

posted evening of May 19th, 2009: Respond

Sunday, May 17th, 2009

🦋 The Party

I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you
Hi everyone, hope you are well. It is time for me to observe the passing of my 38th year on this earth and the beginning of my 39th.* A nice round number, 39 -- not until I am 416 will I again be a number followed by its square. (Or I guess 101 would qualify depending how you think about it.)

Anyway -- thanks for reading my blog this year, I appreciate your presence here. We're experiencing a little intermittency in blogging currently because I've been spending most of my free time on recording music -- if all goes well I will have some music to share in a little while.

Meantime come in and sit down, have a slice of virtual cake! Good stuff below the fold. If you're trying to think of a good birthday present to give me, I always appreciate fun links; leave 'em in the comments.

* Wait, no that's wrong -- I am mixing up cardinal numbers with ordinal again. This is the beginning of my 40th year of life.

read the rest...

posted morning of May 17th, 2009: 11 responses
➳ More posts about Birthdays

Friday, May 15th, 2009

🦋 Dream Dream Blogging Blogging

Cool, the first time I can remember having dreamed about blogging a dream. Maybe it's on my mind because of the e-mail exchange this week with Lep and other Feg maniax about remembering dreams.

In the dream I was writing down (i.e. the inner dream), I was riding the uptown 6 train, possibly going to a gig, and got off at Spring St. But as the doors closed I saw that I had left my violin in the train, on the seat. I hesitated a moment and then ran quickly through the tunnel behind the train, making it to the Bleeker St. stop in time to get back in the train and retrieve my fiddle. Ed Levy was also on the train, (possibly this is the enclosing dream now), and I was telling him how I had always fantasized about chasing a train through the tunnel, and how happy and proud I was about having done it.

All I remember from the enclosing dream, besides the blogging part, is the closing image: a friend, possibly college friend Ari, is giving me a meditation lesson. We are seated at my kitchen table, where a candle is burning, looking deeply into each other's eyes -- thinking about it now I realize this is not standard meditation practice, but in the dream it seemed pretty normal. I experienced an alteration in my field of vision, where Ari stretched out horizontally and shrank vertically, and expanded to fill my eyes.

posted morning of May 15th, 2009: Respond
➳ More posts about Dreams

Previous posts
Archives

Drop me a line! or, sign my Guestbook.
    •
Check out Ellen's writing at Patch.com.

Where to go from here...

Friends and Family
Programming
Texts
Music
Woodworking
Comix
Blogs
South Orange