It examines the problems and ideological implications of translating these translated fictions, inasmuch as this writing calls into question both traditional visions of literature and hegemonic translation models. Desde la torre de Babel, las lenguas han sido siempre una forma de divorciarnos del resto de la humanidad. Poetry must find ways of breaking distance. And besides, all languages are dialects that are made to break new grounds. Me siento como Dante, Petrarca and Boccaccio, y como Garcilaso forging a new language. It can be argued that one of the most fascinating aspects of translation is that it is an activity in direct contact with the world, at the same time fully affected by whatever is happening and participating in any societal change, clearly engaged in the political transformations which are constantly taking place in every culture.
Far from being an overstatement, this conviction is backed by merely recalling the enormous transformation the concept of translation has undergone in recent times.
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Just as Western society has become more and more heterogeneous and diverse or is at least attempting to open itself to the new and highly interesting reality of multiculturalism and hybridity , translation has also begun to celebrate difference: Translation, like society, has no option but to live up to the difference that inhabits texts, which are all the more enthralling the richer they are in diversity; otherwise translation may run the risk of irresponsibility.
In this regard, it should not be forgotten that language, the raw material of texts, also serves as an identity card. The way we use language says much about ourselves. We say things by means of language, and we also say things by means of what we do not say through a language.
Language is an instrument of power that is never neutral. Language exchanges are also an actualization of the relations of symbolic power at work between cultures, which ultimately means that there are no neutral or innocent words. Language symbolizes the authority of the person speaking, or the authority that the speaker wishes to attain. This is precisely the starting point of many representations of the reality created, by means of language, by many writers of Latin American origin who know the power of words, as well as the words of power. Like many other writers in our world, these particular authors referred to are torn by a complicated dilemma: With Quechua the soul of this light and this land, both as beauty and residence, is told, described and spoken If we talk in pure Castilian, we do not talk about the landscape or about our inner world But if we write in Quechua, we produce a narrow literature condemned to obscurity.
However, proving the relational nature of concepts like majority and minority Venuti, , Spanish sometimes appears as a minor language that competes but needs to collaborate with a dominant language to express a world view. Literary criticism has widely studied this phenomenon, as is shown by the enormous amount of literature on the subject.
However, research conducted from the point of view of translation is far more rare in spite of the fact that, in our opinion, this phenomenon is interesting for such an approach not only inasmuch as translation is a constant process in the current existence of many persons caught and writing in both interesting and stressing situations of in-betweenness, crossculturalism and hybridation, but also because the kind of hybrid literature which originated from these situations is undoubtedly on the rise in the hegemonic English and North-American editorial market, which in turn means that it is prone to being translated into other languages.
Thus translation-oriented approaches seem to be relevant and needed, all the more so if we consider that these new literary expressions challenge the principle of distinctiveness of languages presumed both in traditional conceptions of literature and, what is more important, in the dominant definition of translation, still conceived as the transfer of a text from one language into another. For, paradoxically, contravening its intercultural nature, translation as an institution still entertains and consolidates the illusion of monolingualism, which represents more than a dream for language purity: Needless to say, the type of literature referred to dissents from these long-standing ideals, which makes the revision of prevalent translation models all the more urgent.
In many works by authors living a cross-cultural existence, the situation differs considerably from classical multilingual novels, namely works by Tolstoy, Nabokov, Hemingway or Mann, which are interspersed with some fragments in a second language clearly differentiated from that of the original. Translators pick up a problematic gauntlet when confronted to this kind of celebration of contamination. Translation has traditionally acted at the service of the development of national languages Nama, or the construction of concrete cultures Bassnett and Lefevere, For this new type of literature, traditional translation models, constructed upon a binary logic, appear for some to be insufficient to explain and rearticulate this interstitial, ambivalent space that is fed on contamination and rejects any essentialist, hierarchical and centripetal vision.
Hablen un lenguaje u otro. In the fictional representations of many Hispanic writers, languages merge into a third language that is itself an emblem of a whole existential condition marked by constant bordercrossing. In her introduction to the Spanish self-translation of When I was Puerto Rican, Esmeralda Santiago clearly affirms and celebrates such interlanguage as a form of self-expression, as the only way of articulating her unique translated identity, unable to fit into the straitjacket of normativeness:.
The novel was originally written in English, but Santiago frequently leaves Spanish terms for concepts for which she finds no English equivalent, and includes a glossary in the final pages of her book. Although autobiographical, the book recreates a social narrative: Talking to other people she could gather that, even though the culture she described was different from that of her interlocutors, the feelings and experiences described in her book were familiar to them, to the extent that some of the events recalled could have been taken from their own lives.
Santiago found it especially moving to talk to other immigrants that had come back to their homeland only to discover how much they had changed during their immersion in the American culture. Paradoxically, in the United States, her dark skin, her accented idiom, her frequent interferences between Spanish and English marked her as a foreigner: Her account promotes self-understanding for a whole sector of population who no longer fits in its country of origin but neither has the feeling of being one hundred per cent American. It also fosters the understanding of the experience of exile and of the hybrid identity of nomadic individuals.
Obviously, it is also an act of resistance. To use the graphic images with which Kristeva defines her own writing, these writers create, in the crossroads of two languages and at least two periods, a monster characterized by a constant self-dissatisfaction and an inclination to exasperate the natives, both from the country of origin and from the adoptive land Kristeva, a, p. In this regard, these works pose the ultimate challenge to maintain the translated status of originals in any potential translated version: Perhaps the most ethical translation for these writings is that proposed by the late Derrida: This is a resistant translation committed to highlighting the Outside, le dehors Foucault , the carnavalesque Bakhtin , heteroglossia Kristeva , the remainder Lecercle, apud Venuti.
Es determinante para establecer tiempos y flujos de la cadena de suministros. Las pastillas son un elemento determinante en el sonido de la guitarra.
Sueños de mala muerte by José Donoso
Varios testimonios que obran en la causa, fueron considerados determinantes. La falta de alternativas es determinante en todo este asunto. Constatando que las movilizaciones fueron determinantes para lograr este aumento. Ambos cuadros avisan que el pasado no importa y que cada partido es determinante. O sea, el tiempo es un factor determinante. El documento juega un rol determinante para este pacifista. Prigioni fue determinante para el triunfo con 6 puntos y 7 asistencias. En ese contexto el partido es determinante para el futuro.
El mal estado de las banquinas fue determinante al momento de tomar la medida. Otra vez, el contexto juega un papel determinante en el destino de los exitosos. Asi que a tenerlo en cuenta cuando dicen cosas tan determinantes. La actitud con la que encaramos las enfermedades es determinante. Una diferencia escueta pero determinante para el desarrollo posterior. La clase y la raza pesan y pesan de manera determinante. What do they call French toast in France?
And other similar questions In English, many things are named after a particular country — but have you ever wondered what those things are called in those countries? The origins of dog breed names As their breed names often attest, dogs are a truly international bunch. Why English is hard: They lie, Julia de Burgos. Who rises in my verses is not my voice. It is my voice.
You are the cold doll of social lies,. You, honey of courtesan hypocrisies; not me;. You are like your world, selfish; not me.
You are only the ponderous lady very lady;. You belong to your husband, your master; not me;. I belong to nobody, or all, because to all, to all. I give myself in my clean feeling and in my thought. You curl your hair and paint yourself; not me;. You are a housewife, resigned, submissive,. You in yourself have no say; everyone governs you;. Not in me, in me only my heart governs,. You, flower of aristocracy; and me, flower of the people. You in you have everything and you owe it to everyone,.
You nailed to the static ancestral dividend,. When the multitude run rioting. I will be in their midst with the torch in my hand. Ay ay ay de la grifa negra. Negro trozo de negro en que me esculpo, ay ay ay, que mi estatua es toda negra. Ay ay ay, que el esclavo fue mi abuelo es mi pena, es mi pena. Ay, ay, ay, that am kinky-haired and pure black kinks in my hair, Kafir in my lips; and my flat nose Mozambiques. Black of pure tint, I cry and laugh the vibration of being a black statue; a chunk of night, in which my white teeth are lightning; and to be a black vine which entwines in the black and curves the black nest in which the raven lies.
Black chunk of black in which I sculpt myself, ay, ay, ay, my statue is all black. They tell me that my grandfather was the slave for whom the master paid thirty coins. Ay, ay, ay, that the slave was my grandfather is my sadness, is my sadness. If he had been the master it would be my shame: Ay, ay, ay wash the sins of the white King in forgiveness black Queen.
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Ay, ay, ay, the race escapes me and buzzes and flies toward the white race, to sink in its clear water; or perhaps the white will be shadowed in the black. Ay, ay, ay my black race flees and with the white runs to become bronzed; to be one for the future, fraternity of America! Que uno en el otro encuentren. The sea and you. The stroke of the sea upon my door is blue sensation between my toes, and your impetuous leap through my spirit is no less blue, an eternal birth.
If I just had a ship of seagulls, and could for an instant stop them, and shout my voice that they fight in a simple duel of mystery! May there be a duel of music in the air the opened magnolias of their kisses, that the waves dress in passions and the passion dress in sailboats. All the color of awakened aurora may the sea and you expand it into a dream that it carry my ship of seagulls and leave me in the water of two skies.
Life straightened up to watch me pass. I began getting lost atom by atom of my flesh. Pilgrim in myself, I walked a long instant. I lingered on the route of that errant path. With myself on horseback I galloped through the shadow of time. I knew myself as a message far from the world. I felt myself a life inverted from the surface of colors and forms,. A clock has sounded the hour chosen by all. The surroundings reconquer color and form.
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Always the same flesh silently tightening on the familiar. I am still in the landscape far from my vision. I go on being a message from the world. The form that recedes and that was mine an instant. I Was My Own Route. I wanted to be like men wanted me to be: But I was made of nows,. At each advancing step on my route forward. But the branch was unpinned forever,.