Deep into January
It's cold in the big city. I've had a couple of days off from work, today and yesterday, and have been puttering around the apartment, downloading music onto my computer, picking up drycleaning, that kind of thing. Last night I went to yoga, to the latest class of the day, which ends at around 9:30, and then made my way home by bus (two buses actually), all bundled up and shivering while waiting for the buses. I think I might stay home tonight.
I've been reading, too. I'm on the last book of Mahfouz's Cairo trilogy, Sugar Street, and I don't want to finish it, because I've come to feel so close to the story and the people. In a part that I was reading last night, the patriarch of the family runs into his two teenage grandsons on the street and they greet him respectfully. He is happy to see them and asks them, "To where from where?" and somehow that little phrase seemed inordinately moving to me--so familial and informal and a sign of how much the character of the grandfather had softened in the course of the story, changed from being the tyrannical and distant figure that his own children knew. Also, I wondered if the phrase was a translation of a common phrase in Arabic--it carried, to me, that whiff of a foreign idiom that helps one to remember, oh, yes, this book was not originally written in English.
Speaking of troubled patriarchs, I went to see the revival of A View from the Bridge on Broadway two nights ago, with my friend M., who got tickets for us on the spur of the moment after reading the rave review in the newspaper. It was tense and riveting, funny and heartbreaking.
That's all for now.
I've been reading, too. I'm on the last book of Mahfouz's Cairo trilogy, Sugar Street, and I don't want to finish it, because I've come to feel so close to the story and the people. In a part that I was reading last night, the patriarch of the family runs into his two teenage grandsons on the street and they greet him respectfully. He is happy to see them and asks them, "To where from where?" and somehow that little phrase seemed inordinately moving to me--so familial and informal and a sign of how much the character of the grandfather had softened in the course of the story, changed from being the tyrannical and distant figure that his own children knew. Also, I wondered if the phrase was a translation of a common phrase in Arabic--it carried, to me, that whiff of a foreign idiom that helps one to remember, oh, yes, this book was not originally written in English.
Speaking of troubled patriarchs, I went to see the revival of A View from the Bridge on Broadway two nights ago, with my friend M., who got tickets for us on the spur of the moment after reading the rave review in the newspaper. It was tense and riveting, funny and heartbreaking.
That's all for now.
posted by Sarah Sometimes at 4:59 PM
5 Comments:
Late in commenting, but glad to be the first one :-).
I really liked this: "Also, I wondered if the phrase was a translation of a common phrase in Arabic--it carried, to me, that whiff of a foreign idiom that helps one to remember, oh, yes, this book was not originally written in English."
See? That's why a bit of "foreignizing" in translation is important (that would be me talking to myself on one of the key aspects of my dissertation). Hey, would you be interested in looking it over? (the diss?). Feel free to decline, since I know that maybe only a maximum of five people will ever read it. :-D Who cares for what us academics do? I used to care, but I think that now I'm too busy "living" to do so (not that I wasn't during graduate school, that's why it took me 10 years to finish :-D).
Lilian: Thanks for the comment--I was starting to feel a little lonely out here in blogland. And, yes, I'd love to read at least some of your dissertation. (And I'd be glad to reciprocate. :). Send it on to me at any of my e-mails that you have.
Oh, and I took longer than ten years, and, yes, it is kind of a dilemma, wondering what to do next or what one might ever do with the dissertation. But living is good too.
I do like that question too. Where are you coming from and going to. I can see why it stuck with you.
Thanks so much for stopping by my blog today. Always happy to see a new face. :)
You have inspired me to read the other two books of that trilogy. I read the first one when it came out, and loved it so much I was afraid that the next one would be disappointing, so I've put off reading it and the subsequent one.
Thanks.
Teresa
Hilary: I'm glad to have a new visitor too! Come back any time.
Teresa: I think you'll enjoy them. I liked being able to go back and spend more time with all those family members that he writes about so vividly, and was sad when I finally got to the end of the third book and knew I had to say good-bye for good.
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