The amazing Arthur C. Clarke

No matter how good non-fiction is, when I'm done with one or two, I usually crave a dose of fiction. By which I generally don't mean a contemporary best-seller. So when I finished the superb, thought provoking Thinking, Fast And Slow / Daniel Kahneman, I reached for the sci-fi shelf. And this is what I jotted down, as I read the slim volume I picked up:

Arthur C. Clarke

Childhood’s End (first published: 1953)

Interesting plot and characters. Unforeseen plot development.

As a reader mentioned on Amazon, this is not a typical Arthur C. Clarke sci-fi novel, in the sense that it isn’t based on hard scientific research. It’s more in the realm of fantasy-sci-fi. It has a lyrical quality, it has supernatural beings, and it makes a philosophic point that is at odds with the one usually espoused by Clarke. But all that is beside the point I wanted to make:

The funny thing is – like with many other futuristic, sci-fi novels – that sci-fi writers, no matter how brilliant, did not foresee or dream of such things as the internet, ebooks, email, mobile phones that are in effect handheld computers that can do tons of complicated stuff; text messages, e-photos, and more. Humanity could be so advanced, technically/mechanically; yet they still get their info in the form of paper, tons of it; they’re still stuck with clunky fax machines, and any serious computers are huge and take up entire rooms.

In terms of the effect of technology on humans and their daily life, Clarke’s 1956 novel, The City and the Stars, tells a different story. But, since I read it 10 years ago, in Feb 2002, I must confess I don’t remember the details, and only have the brief note I wrote to myself at the time:

Feb. 2002

Arthur C. Clarke  - The City and the Stars 

Amazing SF, especially considering when it was written (1956). The breadth of vision and the scientific insight and foresight are amazing. When it comes to human nature – nu, we've read better. The predominance of the male point of view, seeing the entire universe as a man's domain, with women only an adjunct, is typical of its time (and much later times.)
 ------ 
As it happens, half-way through Childhood's End, I came across the following newspaper article, which made me smile, because it described the up side of today's technological advances: No Flying Cars, but the Future is Bright, wrote Virginia Postrel. I find that a very comforting thought.

Have you read either of the above Arthur C. Clarkes? Both? Any comments?

Renovations, what a beautiful word!

Renovate. What a beautiful word. To make something new again. To give it back youth, beauty. Even if it wasn't beautiful to begin with. Restore. Give back life. Such a noble, optimistic concept. Refurbish isn't bad, either. But I like the Latin sound of re-novare better.

Shame reality is such a drag...  Not the fault of the word, of course. The pretty word creates lovely, hopeful expectations. And then you come up against reality: Noise: drilling, banging, hacking, sawing, tearing down. Dirt: debris, sand, stone, glass, rusty pipes, dust, dust, and more dust. 

In Hebrew, at least, the word doesn't sound so inviting, to my ear at least: le'shapetz -- to renovate; shiputzim -- renovations; shiputznik -- the handyman who does the actual work. 

One of these days I'll have a third blog up and running, dedicated to all sorts of stuff that goes through my head, and that has nothing to do with language (writing, translation, editing etc -- the original objects of this here blog) or with travel (the proclaimed object of Nina Makes Tracks. That third blog will be called Nina Tracks Changes because, let's face it, everything else comes under the heading of "change". Life, the universe and everything comes under change. No change, ergo no life. But until then, I'm reduced to all manners of subterfuge to sneak unrelated topics into one of my two existing blogs.

Enough apologizing.

Where was I? Yes, renovations, noise, dust.

Four years ago we renovated our kitchen. I documented key points in the process on Flickr. As renovations go, I am told that we had it easy: reliable contractor/shiputznik who had a plan and stuck to it. When the job was done and we said our goodbyes, we told him that we'd be needing his services again at some point to redo our bathroom. 
But we kept putting it off.
Now -- as the shiputznik drills in the adjacent wall behind me, the walls shudder and dust floats in the air, getting into my keyboard, my hair, my nostrils -- it is very obvious why. Who wants to go through that nightmare again???

But at some point, iron pipes installed over 35 years ago die a horrible death, door-frames exposed to the elements rot, pink bathroom tiles go out of fashion (if they ever were in fashion) and look ridiculous. Not to mention scrub-resistant mold spots. So one day I finally picked up the phone and called Micha, the shiputznik of yore. He was astounded that I'd kept his number.

Off with those pink tiles!

We are towards the end of Day 2, but it feels like it's been going on for much, much longer. 
Dirt, dust, mess, tools all over the place. Even my study, which I thought was safe from destruction if not from noise, has suffered the ignominy of ripped tiles, to reveal rotting pipes:

Not to mention that we rely on friends and neighbors for showering. (Let's ignore our toilet solutions.)

But look! The tiles have arrived! Surely that's a good sign?...

 With this happy thought to sustain me, I shall escape from my study while my eardrums are still relatively intact.

The Lighter Side of Translation – at ESRA

What an appreciative audience! No speaker could ask for anything more.

That’s how I felt on Tuesday the 16^th, when giving my talk & presentation at Janet’s beautiful home in Rishon LeZion. The audience was ESRA  members, some from town, some from out-of-town. The comfortable and elegant living room was packed. Most people had had their coffee or soft drinks and cake before the Live Entertainment began. My laptop had been connected to the large, flat TV screen, and the ppt’s opening slide was already displayed:

Though there were a few translators in the crowd, most listeners weren’t involved in translation. Which isn’t an accurate statement, come to think of it: Any English speaker living in Israel is, to some extent, actively involved in interpretation and translation every single day, whether they like it or not. It’s just a fact of life, part of living here.

I had given these issues serious thought when preparing my talk. I wanted to give examples that the audience could easily relate to, and other examples that would shed new light on the subject, tell them things they didn’t know. Judging by reactions, I think I achieved both ends.

My talk attempted to describe what a [freelance, self-employed] translator’s work day consists of: Talking to prospective and existing clients; agreeing to do a specific job; grappling with difficult, obscure, or poorly-written text; and trying to make the best of it.

Most of us translators work alone in front of our computer. If we don’t reach out to colleagues, don’t belong to forums and discussion groups, we don’t realize that we’re all in the same boat. “We translators should stick together,” I said to a young guy, who introduced himself as a translator and who turned out to be a student at Beit Berl College, in the department of translation. He didn’t seem impressed or amenable to that notion. Pity, really. On the whole, I’ve found that formal students of translation, i.e. those studying towards a university/college degree in translation, are in dire need of a “reality check”. Studying the theory plus a bit of practice is very loosely connected to actual work in the field. Which is sometimes more like a battlefield between client and translator. And which is why Prof. Miriam Shlesinger  was kind enough to invite me to give a lecture at Bar Ilan University a few years ago. “You put the fear of God into them,” she grinned at me with satisfaction at the end of my talk.

Well, this time, in Janet’s parlor, I didn’t put the fear of God into anyone, but I may have burst a couple of bubbles. And I made people laugh, which is a wonderfully rewarding feeling. In our profession, if you don’t look at the lighter side of things, you’re likely to end up pretty miserable. Which is one of the reasons I’m such a big fan of Mox’s blog  and share his insights often on my Facebook page.

As for the actual content of my talk and presentation – I don’t want to repeat myself. But I can tell you that several of the examples given in that talk were taken from this-here blog; so just browse away, and you’ll find plenty of examples of what we’re up against as translators. 

Have fun!