The READIN Family Album
(March 2005)

READIN

Jeremy's journal

Listen, this process called poetry is an exercise in imagining memory, and then having that memory snare and cherish imagination.

Breyten Breytenbach


(This is a page from my archives)
Front page
More recent posts
Older posts
More posts about:
Translation
Writing Projects
Projects
La casa de la loca
Marta Aponte
Readings

Archives index
Subscribe to RSS

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

🦋 Chestnut smoke

Today I am submitting my translation of Marta Aponte's story "1955: Lavender Mist" (edited by Scott Esposito) to the Close Approx­imations contest. I want to thank Marta for the story, which is magnificent, and for her readings and corrections of my translation; also to thank Scott for his invaluable suggestions which (IMO of course) have turned a good translation into a great one -- I am billing the piece as translated by me in collaboration with Scott. Very excited -- I could imagine this story being selected; and if that does not happen, as of course it may well not, I believe it will be relatively easy to find another publisher. Beautiful images abound in this story; here is one of my favorites. Señor Suárez is in the vestibule of the unfamiliar Museum of Modern Art, making his way to the exhibit whose opening he has been invited to:

Outside, the chestnut smoke was thickening, the space seeming to gain in scope what it lost in sharpness. It gave the impression of a canvas that you've covered with a layer of gray paint, in hopes that from the stillness of this interior, from the depths of this lake will burst forth some new, some unexpected creation. Something fashioned from the shards of memory, which darken and fade but are never lost; which will take you by surprise as they now took him by surprise, looking down at his orphan hands, blue and knotty. He might have fallen useless at the feet of these barbaric columns, had he not suddenly overheard someone saying the name — it was like a change of scenery coming in from the wings — of Pollock; had he not seen the two women walking, with the assurance of sturdy windmills, toward the elevator.

posted morning of Friday, July 5th, 2013
➳ More posts about Translation
➳ More posts about Writing Projects
➳ More posts about Projects
➳ More posts about La casa de la loca
➳ More posts about Marta Aponte
➳ More posts about Readings

A note about submitting the work -- still every time I read it I find places where I think a comma would work better than a semi-colon or where I wonder about word choice. Deciding to submit it means I think it is "correct enough".

posted afternoon of July 5th, 2013 by Jeremy

Indeed I think it is damn close to a perfect translation of the perfect story.

posted afternoon of July 5th, 2013 by Jeremy

Respond:

Name:
E-mail:
(will not be displayed)
Link:
Remember info

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

What's of interest:

(Other links of interest at my Google+ page. It's recommended!)

Where to go from here...

Friends and Family
Programming
Texts
Music
Woodworking
Comix
Blogs
South Orange
readinsinglepost