Russian – Page 2

SLD Member Spotlight: An interview with Shelley Fairweather-Vega

May 12, 2021

In this column of the SLD Blog, we feature members of ATA’s Slavic Languages Division: translators and interpreters working in Slavic languages. Their stories, experience, and career highlights will inspire both beginners and experienced professionals. Today’s post is an interview with a long-time SLD member, ATA-certified Russian to English translator, Shelley Fairweather-Vega.

What is your story of getting started as a translator?

Like a lot of our colleagues, I became a translator accidentally. My first translation job was for School No. 26 for Blind and Weak-Sighted Children in Ryazan, Russia, where I worked as a Peace Corps volunteer, teaching English, from 2000 to 2002. The principal wanted a grant from an American organization. So every day for a week, I’d finish up teaching my adorable second- through seventh- graders and then spend an hour or two on the school’s computer, translating handwritten Russian bureaucratese into non-profit-sector English. We won the grant.

After Peace Corps, I had a series of jobs in government and libraries that required the use of Russian and sometimes translation. By the time I started my graduate school program, I was on ProZ and freelancing occasionally. In graduate school, I studied Uzbek as well as more Russian, and began translating from that language, too. A few years later, I quit my day job and became a full-time freelance translator.

What fields do you specialize in, and how did you build up your expertise in those areas?

I first specialized in legal Russian, especially concerning politics and current events. I had plenty of legal vocabulary at my fingertips from working with lawyers, but I enjoyed translating journalism more because, unlike court rulings and contracts, journalistic writing requires (and allows for!) a dash of creativity. As part of my job buying Russian-language books for the Multnomah County Library system in Portland, Oregon, I wanted to research new Russian fiction to identify the most interesting contemporary authors. I discovered Lizok’s Bookshelf, the blog by Lisa Hayden, a prolific translator of Russian fiction. I began wondering if I could do what Lisa does someday. Years later, when I had started translating books, I met Lisa at a translation conference, and I feel so lucky to consider her a colleague now. Reading Lisa’s translations and work by other literary translators has given me insight into how that sort of translation works (and sometimes doesn’t work), and networking through conferences and social media has taught me a lot about the field.

Literary translation projects aren’t constant, so I continue to take legal jobs and creative translation jobs that aren’t exactly high literature. I really enjoy working on computer games and scripts for Russian animated shows for kids, for instance. The task is not just to translate the plot and dialogue and camera directions well, but also to develop an end product that has a good chance of selling to English-speaking producers and entertaining English-language audiences. My training for that consisted solely of watching lots of cartoons on YouTube with my kids when they were little.

Can you share an example of the most rewarding project you have ever worked on and why it felt this way?

Probably the most rewarding translation I’ve published is a short essay by an Uzbek author, Mamadali Mahmudov, which he wrote while in prison on trumped-up political charges. It was a pro bono job through Translators Without Borders. Bringing attention to his plight felt like working for a good cause, and anyway, the translation married my two interests – literature and politics. As an extra bonus for me, my translation was noticed by another Uzbek writer, Hamid Ismailov. He contacted me, and since then, I’ve published translations of two novels, one essay, and three short stories of his.

In your opinion, what are the most important skills of a literary translator?

Literary translation is a specialization like any other, in some respects – you need to master the vocabulary and style of your source material and its equivalents in your target language. That means having a real eye and ear for dialogue in fiction and rhythm, rhyme, and meter in poetry, for example. None of those things works exactly the same in Russian, Uzbek, and English. Having a good background in different styles and genres in your languages helps a lot. And when you translate literature, you almost always work for direct clients, whether publishing houses or authors. That requires the business skills to constantly negotiate terms, seek out new work, answer your clients’ questions, and help them through the process of translation and publishing.

Literary translators also need to be fearless. In this field, your name will be on everything you translate, so you have to be ready for the scrutiny of editors, readers, and critics; and that means you need to be humble, because nothing you translate will ever be perfect, and everyone will know it.

At ATA’s 61^st Annual Conference, you presented a session called “Getting Edited and Getting Ahead in Literary Translation”. What have you learned from the experience of getting your work edited and editing other people’s work?

I think getting edited has helped to teach me that blend of fearlessness and humility that I mentioned above. I’ve learned so much from being edited, from the simplest things to the most complex psycho-literary tricks imaginable. On the simple side, it took an editor to finally tell me that в частности doesn’t mean “in part” – I hadn’t specifically learned the expression, my solution felt sort of obvious, and it always seemed to fit the context, so I’d never questioned it. I will never make that mistake again. But most editing doesn’t deal with simple translation errors – it’s about writing that could be improved. Most suggested edits I see simply tell me that something I’ve written isn’t clear or is triggering some unintended response in the reader. Then I get to do the hard mental work of figuring out where the fault lies and how to fix it, while still guided by what the original text is trying to say and do. The more often you go through this process, the more confidence you develop in your translation choices. You start to be able to predict what will trip up an editor and what their objections will be, so you self-edit as you translate. You build a store of arguments you can deploy when you need to convince the editor to see things your way. You also develop the insight and confidence you need to propose third solutions that solve the problem the editor identified and convey the meaning and style your translation needs to preserve.

When we have our work edited by others, it may be easy to perceive it negatively, get discouraged, or get defensive. Do you have any tips, especially for beginner translators, on how to see the positive sides of getting feedback and when to defend their translation choices?

Seeing that sea of red on the screen when you open up a document with tracked changes is always terribly alarming. I’m not sure that initial shock ever gets less painful. When you receive edits, try looking through them once without responding. Scan the whole text, read the comments, and try to just absorb an understanding of what is bothering the editor, what they like and don’t like. Then give yourself a break and do something else. After your heart rate returns to normal, go back to the text and start responding methodically. That will give you the time you need to let your natural defensiveness subside a little and to consider the suggested edits more objectively.

You will always find at least one edit that you’re thankful for. Respond to that one first and let that feeling of gratitude to the editor carry over as you continue. Even when you disagree with an edit, respond respectfully, either defending your choices or proposing new options politely and rationally. You’ll feel much healthier and more professional, more as if you’re in a productive conversation with the editor and less like you’re in a boxing ring, warding off blows.

Always pick your battles. Sometimes edits are purely preferential changes, doing nothing to improve the translation. But as long as the edit also does no harm, try to let the editor have their own way sometimes. The translation won’t suffer, and it will save you the grief of arguing over one more thing.

What is important to remember when we edit other people’s work?

Remember how the translator will feel when they see all those tracked changes and try not to traumatize them! Less is usually more; try only to suggest changes that objectively improve the translation in terms of accuracy or style or clearly improve the target-language writing. Often, it’s better to ask questions: rather than changing X to Y, ask, “Do you think Y would work here?” And be sure you know exactly what your role is, as editor, in this project. Does the final responsibility rest with you or with the translator? Are you expected to check the translation for accuracy or just polish the target-language text? If you find yourself making extensive edits, offer an explanation: “I’m changing most of the passive voice to active voice,” or “These terms are covered in the glossary,” for instance, so the translator knows what is guiding your editing decisions.

Finally, take the time to offer a compliment or two when the translator has come up with something especially good. Especially if you’re going to be editing this person’s work again, it’s smart – and kind – to establish some rapport.

What advice would you give to colleagues who are just getting started in translation?

The single most important thing you can do is read. Read the kinds of things you might translate in your source language and read all kinds of writing in your target language. Additionally, to thrive in this business, as solitary as it can be, you need to know people. Attend trainings and conferences, hang out on social media, join those listservs. Your colleagues will be your single best source of knowledge, referrals, advice, and inspiration.

Shelley Fairweather-Vega is an ATA-certified translator from Russian to English and an enthusiastic translator of Uzbek. Her translations of poetry and prose have been published by presses ranging from Routledge to Tilted Axis, and in Translation Review, Words Without Borders, story and poetry anthologies, and more. Shelley is currently President of the Northwest Translators and Interpreters Society (an ATA chapter) and serves on the advisory board of the Translation Studies Hub at the University of Washington.

Website: fairvega.com/translation

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/fairvega/

Shelley’s Amazon author page

We would love to feature other translators and interpreters working with Slavic languages in future SLD Blog posts! If you have recommendations or would like to share your own story and expertise, please email the SLD Blog co-editors: Veronika Demichelis and Marisa Irwin.

ATA SLD podcast: Episode 25 with Andrei Falaleyev

May 3, 2021

Dear SLD members,

The new episode of Slovo, the ATA SLD podcast is live!

In this episode, our podcast host Maria Guzenko talks to Andrei Falaleyev, a conference interpreter with more than 30 years of experience and a seasoned interpreter trainer. Andrei shares tips on becoming a sought-after interpreter, specializing, and training interpreters.

Listen here, or anywhere you get your podcasts – Slovo is available on Apple Podcasts, Google Play, and Spotify.

Don’t forget to subscribe so you never miss an episode!

SLD Member Spotlight: An interview with Nora Seligman Favorov

April 8, 2021

In this column of the SLD Blog, we feature members of ATA’s Slavic Languages Division: translators and interpreters working in Slavic languages. Their stories, experience, and career highlights will inspire both beginners and experienced professionals. Today’s post is an interview with a long-time SLD member and SlavFile Associate Editor, Nora Seligman Favorov.

How did you first become involved with the Russian language and how did this lead to a career in translation?

My fascination with all things Russian might have faded into one life-long interest among many had it not been for a bit of serendipity. I had studied French from childhood through my third year of college. As my senior year began, I didn’t manage to get into a very popular seminar on nineteenth-century European literature (you had to be interviewed by the professor, and when he asked me what I had liked about Dickens’ Our Mutual Friend, which I mentioned having read the previous summer, all I could come up with was how funny all the characters’ names were). When I went to look at the list of courses that still had openings, I noticed that only two other people had signed up for first-year Russian. Since I was already enrolled in a year-long Russian history course, I thought it might be interesting to study the language and history in parallel. That year did the trick: I was hooked. After graduating, I attended the intensive Norwich Russian School summer program two summers running. It was one of those programs where you sign a pledge to speak only Russian. Although my one year of Russian had been very intense, the first summer was frustrating—I could understand much of the conversation and joking surrounding me, but I didn’t have the fluency to participate in it. My second summer there (after a year of office work) was better—I finally had enough Russian to socialize. A few months later, I was off to Moscow to study at the Pushkin Institute for a semester. I wound up staying a year and a half and marrying my husband, Oleg. When we moved to the States, I put him through grad school doing office work, but I longed to find a way to work with Russian. I played around with literary translation (Pushkin and Bulgakov—my favorites) and accepted various translation assignments. I was diligent in my translation work, but not really qualified. To make sure I wasn’t handing in terrible translations, I recruited local emigres to work with me. Only after I got my master’s degree in 1997 did I start to feel like a legitimate translator. That was when I first translated the 1863 novel City Folk and Country Folk by Sofia Khvoshchinskaya, which was only published twenty years later (Columbia, 2017). I spent those twenty years doing a variety of assignments—literary, historical, legal, medical—often in collaboration with colleagues, especially Elana Pick, whom I met in 1999 at an ATA seminar in New York.

What fields do you specialize in and how did you build up your expertise in those areas?

My time now is primarily divided between literary translation, my work for Russian Life magazine, for which I translate and serve as Translation Editor, and my work on SlavFile. However, at different stages of my career, I have focused on translating in several areas, including civil society, public health, and scholarly articles. Although I went into translation aspiring to be a literary translator, I had (and have) an equal interest in Russian history, particularly the Stalin era. Another piece of serendipity led to a number of Stalin-era history translations for Yale University Press: the series editor and I both belonged to the same karate organization. I was already fairly knowledgeable about Soviet history, so I was pretty well equipped to translate the material. However, working with Oleg Khlevniuk (for whom I translated Master of the House: Stalin and His Inner Circle and Stalin: New Biography of a Dictator), an eminent historian of the era who spent years as a researcher in the State Archives (GARF), was a particularly excellent education. I loved our email discussions of how to decode the special language of the Stalin-era government and secret police so that Anglophone readers could have the fullest possible appreciation of the information that he was imparting. Working with living authors is sometimes problematic, but having Oleg there to explain anything in his texts that confused me was invaluable. Additionally, we all know that dictionaries and even the resources offered by the internet have their limitations, so native Russian speakers who have generously and patiently entertained my endless questions have been critical over the years to “building up” my expertise, such as it is. Barely a week goes by when I don’t flood Elana Pick’s inbox with questions, and my husband is lucky to pass by my study without my waylaying him with some puzzle in the text I’m working on. Rimma Garn, a former grad school colleague, has also been extremely helpful. Building relationships with colleagues working in the opposite direction is invaluable.

Can you share an example of the most rewarding project you have ever worked on and why it felt this way? What project was the most challenging and why?

No doubt the most rewarding project I have worked on was City Folk and Country Folk. I was driven by a strong desire to bring this little known (even in Russia) gem to light. As for my “most challenging” translation, hands down, the winner is Arthur Tsutsiev’s Atlas of the Ethno-Political History of the Caucasus (Yale, 2014). I know that there are many experts on the geography and ethnic composition of the Caucasus, but I doubt any of them share Tsutsiev’s grasp of such intricacies as the precise timing and contours of the shifting boundaries between Ottoman, Persian, and Russian influence in the eighteenth century, every little change of the Russian Empire’s and later Soviet Union’s administrative designations of territories (from okrugs to oblasts to gubernias, etc.), every fortified position along the many defensive lines Russia maintained during the nineteenth century, and the most minute details of the Karabakh conflict. The budget for the Atlas project was modest, and the work involved seemed to expand with every passing day, as long discussions were held for each map and accompanying text about what language (Russian, Arabic, Persian, Turkic, one of the dozens of indigenous languages?) should serve as the basis for a geographic entity’s transliteration into English at a particular point in time as they shifted in and out of the hands of Russia, the Ponte, Persia, and associated local khanates, shamkhalates, or naibates. As everyone knows, the Caucasus is home to a vast array of ethnic groups, many of whose names have no standard English spelling. There was often no authoritative English-language source to turn to, or one authoritative source used one spelling and another a different one. In any event, I’m very happy to have been a part of the creation of this valuable resource and to have worked with as impressive a scholar as Tsutsiev.

In your opinion, what are the most important skills for a literary translator?

Literary translators must have a good ear for voice—both the voices of their narrators and of the characters, including an ability to hear and reflect all the subtleties of class, temporal, geographic, and ethnic usage, and the attitudes and emotions involved in the original dialogue. Most of all, however, I think literary translators need to understand how much time is needed for literary translation. Over the years, I’ve mined many translations for examples for talks and articles, and even highly respected translators make a lot of mistakes. It takes many reads by the translator and others to weed out all the misunderstandings and infelicities. So yes, skills are important, but they are not enough. You need patience and a willingness (and the finances) to give literary texts the time they need.

At ATA’s 61st Annual Conference, you presented a session called “Balancing Act: Sneaking Historical Context into a Literary Translation from Russian.” What have you learned from the experience of translating a 19th-century Russian novel?

I have learned that it’s hard. Even contemporary Russian is a bottomless pit, and the more decades and centuries you put between yourself and the material you’re translating, the harder it gets to be confident you understand your text. Even erudite native speakers sometimes don’t understand certain wordings. I am in awe at Constance Garnett (1861-1946), who broke ground as the first English-language translator of so many of nineteenth-century Russian literature’s most important works—without the internet and without the paper dictionaries that exist today. She did have the advantage of being contemporary to some of the men (alas, they were all men) she translated and of having Russians around her who were willing to go over her translations, especially the early ones, line-by-line. Despite the obstacles she faced, her translations are still among the best available.

What advice would you give to colleagues who are considering literary translation?

Find a project you love, give it a lot of time, find yourself a number of readers—both those able to read the original and those who can’t—to comment on your translation. Those who don’t know Russian can tell you what doesn’t sound like natural English, and those who do will probably identify spots where you misinterpreted the original, so you know what traps to look out for. If the process doesn’t turn out to be enjoyable, then you’re in luck—you can find something you’ll make a better living at. If you find yourself hooked, then you’re in for some fun. For me, literary translation is one of life’s greatest pleasures.

As for getting published, the most important thing is to make connections of the sort you can make at an ATA conference and have more experienced colleagues advise you on the process. There is no single pathway to success.

Nora Seligman Favorov is a Russian-to-English translator specializing in Russian literature and history. Her translation of Sofia Khvoshchinskaya’s 1863 novel City Folk and Country Folk (Columbia, 2017) was recognized by the American Association of Teachers of Slavic and Eastern European Languages as “Best Literary Translation into English” for 2018. Her translation of Stalin: New Biography of a Dictator by Oleg Khlevniuk (Yale, 2015) was selected as Pushkin House UK’s “best Russian book in translation” for 2016. An ATA certification grader (for Russian-to-English) since 2004, she serves as managing editor for the SLD’s newsletter, SlavFile and translation editor for Russian Life magazine. A native of New York City, she currently lives in Chapel Hill, NC and can be reached at norafavorov@gmail.com.

SLD Member Spotlight: An interview with Natalie Shahova

March 5, 2021

In this new(ish) column of the SLD Blog, we feature members of ATA’s Slavic Languages Division: translators and interpreters working in Slavic languages. Their stories, experience, and career highlights will inspire both beginners and experienced professionals. Today’s post is an interview with a long-time SLD member, Natalie Shahova.

Can you please share your story of getting started as a translator?

I started learning English with a private tutor when I was five. However, as a student, I got a PhD in math at Moscow State University and for about fifteen years I wasn’t professionally involved with languages (except doing some random translation jobs as a student). I worked as a professor of computer science at a Moscow university. But after the collapse of the Soviet Union, I had to moonlight and gradually became a full-time translator.

What fields do you specialize in and how did you build up your expertise in those areas?

At first, I specialized in IT (based on my computer science background). Back in the 90s, IT translations were in great demand as at that time Russia was flooded with foreign equipment. New devices required user guides, operator manuals, and other documentation translated into Russian. Also, several foreign (mostly American) magazines such as PC Week and PC Magazine introduced their Russian versions. Translating articles for these magazines allowed me to keep abreast of the latest technologies. However, over time the demand for IT translations greatly decreased as IT companies started to translate their documentation centrally and Russian IT magazines moved to publication of original articles written by Russian authors. By then, I was already managing EnRus translation agency. After IT, we focused on medicine through our long-term cooperation with AIHA (American International Health Alliance). Currently, we mostly do legalese – certainly not my strong point. So my job is mostly that of a manager – attracting customers, receiving and assigning orders – and I translate nonfiction as a kind of hobby (this kind of work – in most cases – doesn’t bring real money).

Can you share an example of the most rewarding project you have ever worked on and why it felt that way? What project was the most challenging and why?

The most famous project of EnRus was translating Business@The Speed of Thought, by Bill Gates: as the author is well known in Russia, the Russian translation of his book was reprinted several times and widely discussed in the media. This brought me a lot of intense feedback: the readers of our translation wrote me and even called my phone.

My favorite project was the translation of Eats, Shoots & Leaves, by Lynne Truss. I was always interested in grammar and semantics (both in Russian and in English) and this book includes many interesting facts about punctuation in general and English punctuation in particular, as well as tons of funny and enlightening examples. I love humor, and trying to make my translation as amusing as the original was a very gratifying challenge. After finishing the translation, I wrote an article on the differences between English and Russian punctuation and on how punctuation marks should be changed while translating from English into Russian. The article was published in Мосты and in SlavFile (Fall 2008 Vol. 17, No. 4).

You translated the book “Found in Translation” by Nataly Kelly and Jost Zetzsche into Russian. What was that experience like? Can you share the story of how this project came to be? Did you have an opportunity to discuss your translation strategy with the authors? Were there any particular segments that were especially challenging or interesting to translate that you would like to share?

I bought the book at the ATA conference in San Diego (2012). The authors signed my copy, and I started dreaming of translating it sometime in the future. In 2019, all of a sudden, the publishing house Azbuka Atticus approached me with an offer because my translations of Is That a Fish in Your Ear? by David Bellos, A Language Spotter’s Guide to Europe and Babel by Gaston Dorren, and How to Speak Any Language Fluently by Alex Rawlings brought me the somewhat unjustified accolade of an expert in linguistics.

The translation was done in close cooperation with the authors who kindly and patiently answered my numerous questions.

For me, one of the interesting topics covered in the book was Deaf culture. Below are just two quotations from the book:

Jack Jason is known as a CODA, a child of deaf adults. As with most CODAs born in the United States, American Sign Language (ASL)—not English—is his native language. He grew up in California, so the only voice in his house was the voice on television. As he got older, Jason eventually became part of the hearing world, went to school, and learned to speak English (and Spanish).

Contrary to popular belief, sign language is not universal—there are hundreds of signed languages in use throughout the world. For example, there are more than eighteen different sign languages used in Spanish-speaking countries. Wherever there are large communities of people who are deaf, signed languages emerge naturally, and usually without any dependence on spoken languages.

What advice would you give to colleagues who are just getting started in translation?

I would like to tell them that translation and interpretation is a very diverse field and only an extremely talented person could be a “universal” translator. I suggest trying and seeing what is good for you and specializing in that particular field because there are only two ways to achieve high income (and I think it applies to other professions as well):

performing a high volume of simple jobs, at a low rate;
performing only selected jobs that require high quality, at a high rate.

Unfortunately, customers rarely seek high quality as most of them just don’t understand that translation could be of various quality and that the quality of translation could have an impact on their business (because not all of them have read Kelly and Zetzsche’s book). That’s why forming a base of clients ready to pay for quality can take years.

I found Becoming a Translator by Douglas Robinson (EnRus has translated it into Russian) very helpful because I did not have a background in linguistics. I believe that it could be also useful to other beginners even if they do have a linguistic diploma as the book connects theory to practice.

Natalie Shahova is the founder and head of EnRus translation agency. She has translated some 20 books and published dozens of articles in both Russian and English.

ATA directory listing

ProZ

Facebook

EnRus website

Article in Winter 2020 SlavFile, p. 11

Upcoming Virtual Workshop in Russian: Interpreting Idioms and Cultural References

March 2, 2021

Join us on March 13 for ATA’s first virtual workshop, held in cooperation with the ATA Slavic Languages Division: Interpreting Idioms and Cultural References (presented in Russian)!

Being able to understand and deal with colloquialisms and idiomatic expressions is an essential part of a professional interpreter’s skill set.

In this 2-hour interactive workshop, presenter Yuliya Speroff will introduce participants to common idiomatic expressions encountered in spoken discourse and equip participants with strategies for interpreting idioms and cultural references.

The participants will be able to apply their newly acquired skills through small group discussions and practice activities.

Registration is open, but space is limited, so hurry up and register today: https://www.atanet.org/event/interpreting-idioms-and-cultural-references/

This virtual workshop is approved for 2 CCHI CEUs and 2 ATA CEPs.

Human Rights Translation: An Interview with Lucy Gunderson

February 1, 2021

SLD member Lucy Gunderson has had an active role in ATA and SLD for many years. SLD members know her as a past Administrator of the Slavic Languages Division (2011-2015), an extraordinary colleague, and an expert in human rights translation. This important subject seems fascinating to many, but it is challenging to find information about what it takes to work in this field.

We asked Lucy to share her story and advice with SLD members. She also presented an ATA webinar on this topic in September 2020, which is now available on-demand.

Can you please share your story of getting started as a translator?

I remember learning the instrumental case at the end of first-year Russian. We had to answer the question “Кем Вы будете?” (What are you going to be when you grow up?). My vocabulary was quite limited at the time, but I went carefully through the choices. Doctor – No. Lawyer – No. Engineer – No. Переводчик – Hmm. “Я буду переводчиком!” So I guess I’ve always felt an obligation to remain faithful to that solemn oath I took in first-year Russian.

I held “regular” jobs (English teacher in Russia, document manager/translator at a banking company doing business in Russia, editor at a newswire service) before going full-time freelance, but I always did some translation as part of my job or on the side. I understood fairly quickly that I wasn’t suited to a corporate environment (or, to put it better, that the corporate environment wasn’t suited to me!), so when an attractive translation opportunity presented itself, I started working part-time at the editorial job. That part-time job was eventually moved to another city, so I took the leap and started working towards full-time translation.

Why did you start specializing in human rights and how did you build up your expertise in this area?

I never consciously made the decision to specialize in human rights, but I can see how I ended up here when I look back. I spent my junior year in Voronezh, Russia. I arrived two weeks after the August putsch in 1991 and stayed until June 1992, which means that I witnessed the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the formation of newly independent states. I returned to Russia in 1993 and experienced the October 1993 coup and, later, the currency fluctuations of the mid- to late 1990s. This experience living in Russia was what initially sparked my current interests in human rights, international relations, and law.

My first referral for a human rights translation came from an SLD colleague (Nora Favorov). The file she asked me to handle was about electoral fraud in Belarus. I was initially worried about my ability to translate this file, but then I realized that 1) I actually knew where Belarus was, 2) I actually knew who Lukashenka was, and 3) I had read an awful lot about electoral fraud when I lived in Russia, so I was probably better prepared than I thought to translate this. The client was apparently happy with my translation because they kept coming back to me for more and also referred me to other human rights groups.

I am constantly building up my expertise by pushing at my boundaries. It’s important for us to specialize and know our limits, but it’s also important to understand when we can stretch those limits just a bit.

What type of clients do you usually work with and why do they need their documents/content translated?

My main human rights clients are NGOs, although I have also worked with one agency that specializes in human rights. The kinds of documents they need translated are reports for UN Committees, government agencies, the human rights community, and the general public; columns and articles for online media; and sometimes even primary sources.

Can you share an example of the most rewarding project you have ever worked on and why it felt this way?

My most rewarding project has been ongoing for several years and is the #AllJobs4AllWomen campaign. The goal of this campaign is to get former Soviet countries to repeal the List of Arduous, Harmful, and Dangerous Jobs Prohibited for Women. My work on this project has involved translating reports for the Committee on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) and columns for the general public about this list. Now, several former Soviet countries have repealed their lists and others have shortened theirs or agreed to review them specifically because of the pressure mounted by this campaign. So I feel very good about being the main English-language voice for this campaign.

Another project involved mining on indigenous lands. The affected indigenous group won a court battle against the mining company and had their lands returned to them. Even though the court proceedings took place in Russia, my client in this case had repeatedly raised this issue at the international level using my English translations. I believe this had some impact on the outcome, so that makes me proud.

What project was the most challenging and why?

The most challenging projects are the ones that touch my emotions the most.

One was the translation of a blacklist, published by the Luhansk People’s Republic, of Ukrainian police officers (along with their photographs) who were allegedly actively working against the Luhansk People’s Republic. This list called for the capture or murder of these officers. Even though I understood that the purpose of my translation was to reveal atrocities, it was still difficult to process.

Another difficult project was the translation of a letter from a political prisoner to his wife.

If you work in this area, it really helps to have someone to talk these jobs through with. I have found that my clients have struggled with the psychological effects of this kind of work and are more than ready to talk about them, so that has helped me get through these difficult jobs.

What are your favorite resources for research and continued professional development on human rights, translation, and related topics?

For human rights, my favorite resources are Human Rights Quarterly (published by Johns Hopkins University press), Universal Human Rights in Theory and Practice, by Jack Donnelly, and Human Rights: A Very Short Introduction, by Andrew Clapman. The first keeps me updated on current human rights issues and helps me understand major trends in this area, and the last two are great for reference information when I have trouble understanding a certain concept. And of course, the Amnesty International (AI) and Human Rights Watch (HRW) websites are extremely useful resources for understanding contemporary challenges, learning new terminology, and improving my writing in this field.

For translation/writing resources, I also recommend the AI and HRW websites because their publications on Russia are almost always available in the original English and a Russian translation, which helps with terminology and writing. I would also recommend any book on plain language, since human rights documents can be heavy on the legal language. I love Dreyer’s English for grammar.

What advice would you give to colleagues who would like to start specializing in human rights translation?

Network, network, network! I’m lucky to be based in New York City, so I have been able to attend several talks at universities here where I made some contacts, and I’ve even represented ATA at the UN twice. The pandemic hasn’t been good for much, but it has presented the perfect opportunity for people who don’t live near universities to attend lectures online that they wouldn’t have been able to attend otherwise. I think it’s perfectly acceptable to email a speaker that you hear online and establish contact with them. Both Columbia University’s Harriman Institute and New York University’s Jordan Center have had great online offerings since the pandemic started. You can sign up for their mailing lists on their websites.

It’s also important to network with colleagues working in the same area or language pair. It can be tricky to approach a translator working in the same language pair, but it is always possible to offer editing services to them. It’s even better to approach linguists working in a different language pair because then that translator has no fear of competition or losing a client to the other translator. Finally, I’ve had some success attracting attention from my ideal clients on social media, but this is really a long-term effort the requires dedication, a lot of trial and error, and openness to failure!

Lucy Gunderson, CT is an ATA-certified Russian>English translator specializing in human rights, academic, legal, and literary translation. She has a master’s degree in Russian from the University at Albany and a certificate in translation studies from the University of Chicago, where she also served as a tutor in the Russian>English translation program.

Lucy has been translating for non-governmental organizations for the past ten years and follows the human rights situation in Eurasia closely. She has presented on human rights translation for ATA and the New York Circle of Translators.

She is a past chair of ATA’s Divisions Committee (2015-2019) and a former administrator of the Association’s Slavic Languages Division (2011-2015).

Website – https://russophiletranslations.com

LinkedIn – Lucy Gunderson, CT | LinkedIn

Webinar – Challenges in Human Rights Translation: How to Research Terminology and Make Your Writing Shine (atanet.org)

Twitter – @LucyGund

Digging into the SlavFile Lite Archives (Part 3)

April 14, 2020

SlavFile Header

This is the third in a series of posts reprinting Lydia Razran Stone’s editorial columns from past years. You can find the first two posts here and here.

Fall 2007

We have recently returned from a trip to St. Petersburg, Moscow and points in between on the inland waterway and I seem to be suffering from a case of severe, if intermittent, culture shock. It is not the differences between today’s Russia and the United States that have me reaching for my inhaler, but the sharp contrast between the Russia of today and what I experienced during the other two periods I spent in that country—the early to mid-1960’s (several trips with my father who was investigating Soviet psychophysiology) and the early to mid-1990s (several trips to work in Moscow on a joint book sponsored by NASA). Of course, I know that my first-hand acquaintance with my family’s erstwhile homeland and thus my impressions have been laughably short-lived and superficial. Perhaps on each visit I have managed to see through only a very few chinks in the Potemkin façade presented to foreigners. I am also painfully aware that many, if not most, of my readers have a vastly more extensive and profound knowledge of the changes in Russia over this period. Nevertheless, with your indulgence, I will attempt to share some of my impressions here. Who knows? Every once in a while, the view through a chink may provide a new perspective.

The Moscow relative of a friend of mine visited New York and Washington about a decade ago and reported that one of the things that most struck her here were the ubiquitous delicious odors of cooking in urban streets. This does not seem to be true of the Russian capitals—perhaps, surprisingly, this is one advertising secret the new Russians have not yet learned. Or perhaps the smell of food is simply overpowered, especially in Moscow, by the smell of money, bargeloads of new, fresh (if not necessarily clean) money. Everything in the center of the city is well-tended (when I was last there in 1996, the grass around the Kremlin appeared not to have been mowed in at least a year). The stores (if that is not too plebeian a name for them) on central city streets are at least as forbiddingly pricey and elegant as those of any city I am familiar with. Our old friend GUM looks now like Georgetown Park (the most upscale of upscale malls in DC), filled with stores that are so elegant that they have only one item in the window, and only a couple more in the shop, and a like number of customers if that. Indeed, a Russian-born friend suggests that GUM may primarily be a money laundering operation. (Why carry more than three pairs of shoes, when what you are doing is selling the same $600 pair over and over?)

The new houses we saw built and being built in the dacha region on the banks of the waterway we traveled are not the picturesque cottages the word evokes but McDachas—коттеджи, whose opulence overshadows vacation homes in Palm Springs, to pick a U.S. example. The boats and recreational water sports equipment to be seen are worthy of Nantucket. It can still be reported that in the cities (especially the far outskirts of the capitals and smaller cities such as Yaroslavl) there are still Soviet-style exurban apartment complexes, crumbling masonry, balconies that look like they are in imminent danger of falling, and apartment houses where “normal people” live that have front entrances resembling the back doors of slum dwellings. On the other hand, upscale, modern and Western new construction and reconstruction is everywhere—stretching far, far beyond the tourist-oriented center of the cities. In the capitals at least, infrastructure, especially main roads, seems also to have been given at least a fraction of the attention it much needed the last time I visited here. The most striking infrastructure innovation we noted was a double-, or maybe even triple- or quadruple-, length toilet bus, parked outside the Hermitage and judging by appearances hooked up to the local sewer system.

At the risk of sounding downright un-American—and even though in general people seemed more cheerful than I had ever seen them in these climes and I saw many fewer signs of real poverty—I must admit that the sight of all this money being poured into the capitals made me uneasy. Where is it all coming from? Yes, I do know about petrorubles, but is that really all? We have learned that the Communists beggared the rest of the country for their own personal benefits and that of the capitals. But the benefits accruing to the capitals and the public and personal lives of at least some of their inhabitants is so much more startling now! Is the rest of the country becoming commensurately more impoverished? The only non-capital city not dependent on the tourist trade that we visited was Yaroslavl and, while it was in no way as opulent as Moscow or Petersburg, it seemed to me considerably more prosperous than the Moscow of 1996.

Perhaps, if someone had asked Marie Antoinette how to make a city look more beautiful and prosperous, she would have replied, “Get rid of all the ugly and poor people.” One can ask not only what has been added to the capitals to change them so much, but also what has been taken away. Here is a list of things I saw less of than I had before or would have expected.

Diversity (чернокожие or at least a heavier sprinkling of obvious non-Northern Europeans); indeed if I had had the black hair of my youth and only a moderate suntan, I estimate I would have been in the top 1% of the racially exotic in most of the crowds I was in Russia (foreign tourists excepted). Ironically, the diversity of (non-Soviet) ethnic restaurants has increased a great deal.
Drunks (compared to the 1990s): a really marked decline.
Obvious prostitutes: perhaps they are just dressing better or have adopted more subtle recognition cues.
Beggars and shabby people selling household possessions or single cigarettes: none at all noted in the center of the capitals, though there were a few outside the cities e.g., at Peterhof, or in the smaller cities on the river. This is a general observation compared to the mid-90’s and I would not venture to say that there were none to be seen throughout the city.
The thuggish bodyguards one used to see standing outside certain types of establishment in the 1990s.
The kinds of Soviet types (here I am talking appearance and demeanor rather than ideology) our memories of the Soviet Union are populated with (definitely still around in the 90s): stout and officious minor officials (mainly women), бабушки and бабы of all sorts—rural and urban, middle-aged to elderly men in caps with medals or even just значки in their lapels. There ought to be a Red Book of Endangered Species for them.
Police presence: In two weeks, I only noticed traffic cops (looking to me as if they were up to their old tricks) and the one young policeman who told us relatively politely not to sit on the grass in front of St. Basil’s.

The question arises, in my mind at least, as to what has happened to all these people. Many may have simply been gotten out of town: deported (but surely some of the чернокожие one used to see had residence permits), persuaded to leave through quasi-official harassment or other less than savory means of gentrification, or simply gone in search of somewhere cheaper to live. The police and the prostitutes and maybe the bodyguards are undoubtedly undercover. But still, can the populations of Moscow and St. Petersburg born before, say, 1960 have left in such large numbers, or have they miraculously been transformed into only slightly tarnished versions of New Russians? Why hasn’t the experience of their formative years been imprinted on their appearance, demeanor, and service philosophy the way it seems to have been on those who emigrated to Brighton Beach?

Here are a few other things that I noticed were diminished compared to my previous visits or expectations.

The number of birds (other than those used to living symbiotically with man) and insects (and remember we were on the river) was startlingly small compared to what one would expect in a healthy ecology. This is really frightening.
Soldiers other than those who appeared to be about 17. In the 1960s, the streets were full of burly adult soldiers with multiple decorations, many of whom walked hand in hand.
At some point in the 1990s, it appeared that every other apartment dweller in Moscow had a large dog. This trend has apparently normalized.
The length of the line at the Red Square Mausoleum—but there is still a line.
The quality and quantity of fish on offer (especially smoked fish and caviar) compared to the 1960s. My belief is that all the best kinds have simply been used up.
Likewise the quality of the bread.
Likewise the tea, which in all restaurants and other public places we visited came in bags.
While the prices of books have not gone down, they were much lower than I expected after hearing that Moscow was the most expensive city in the world. Are they being subsidized? But having no desire to look a gift horse (or more precisely, edition of Black Beauty) in the mouth, I loaded up on children’s poetry and reference books.

A few things that have increased in number or quality.

Pretty girls. Remember the old stereotype of the Russian female as a maiden with potato shaped hips and a potato shaped nose? Well, forget it. My husband, a well-known expert on the subject, rates the girls of the Russian capitals only slightly below those of Rio de Janeiro, but adds that the Slavic beauties are much less interesting because of the low diversity.
Fast food eateries. I suppose the actual number of McDonald’s has increased, but they are attracting much less attention now, because there are so many rivals, imported—Sbarro, for example—and homegrown—one called Крошки Картошки, and another featuring a large selection of blini and kasha dishes.
My impression is that a monolingual Russian speaker trying to read the signs on stores within, say a radius of 10 miles of the Kremlin, would have no less trouble than a monolingual speaker of English confronted with these same signs.
Skill at advertising and PR. My memory of 1993-96 is that there were just as many advertisements (billboards, etc.) as there are now but that they were generally of very poor quality, unsubtle, and frequently (mis)translated from English. Now there is real evidence that Tverskоy Boulevard has mastered the skills of Madison Avenue. I saw some really clever ads. One that particularly sticks in my memory was for a product to treat traveler’s diarrhea that was posted on the inside of the doors of stalls in the women’s room at Sheremetyevo. An informal survey provided unambiguous results regarding the product most commonly advertised: cell phones and associated technology.
Relative prevalence of efficient service with a smile (or at least not a scowl of enmity). Based on shopping trips to Brighton Beach (to be fair the last was several years ago), though, Soviet-style service has not died out everywhere in the world. Ironically, the only place I myself encountered old-style frustratingly inefficient service this trip was at a church products kiosk on Red Square.
Quality and diversity of available produce. How many years ago was it that people lined up for hours for a couple of bananas? Now kiwis go unremarked in Yaroslavl. I am not speaking here solely of the fruit and vegetables in restaurants catering to tourists—but also street and central municipal markets. Prices, while probably high for the average Russian, seemed more than reasonable to me.
Quality of musical performances that tourists are taken to. Evenings of opera and ballet selections and choral performances in churches. Astonishingly good, better than anything designed for tourists I have seen anywhere. (Though one would have preferred a whole opera or ballet.)

While GUM has been turned into a clone of Georgetown Park, significant chunks of the Russian past seem to be in the process of turning into a huge theme park. This is not all spurious or tasteless, though I suppose it is all driven by the profit motive. The island of Kizhi, for example, is a wonderful, tasteful outdoor museum, diminished only slightly, if at all, by the accoutrements required for the tourist trade. Who among us, no matter how highbrow, in the course of a cultural afternoon might not want a WC, a bottle of water, a snack, or even a souvenir or two? On the other hand, there is no denying that there is a considerable kitschy and spurious element to it all, whatever its Disneyesque charm. To my mind the symbol of this aspect is the matryoshka. Does everyone know that: “Contrary to…popular belief, the matryoshka has no roots in Russian folk culture at all”? (Figes: Natasha’s Dance, pg. 267) This doll was dreamed up in 1891 at a workshop associated with the Russian “arts and crafts” movement on the model of a traditional Japanese nesting doll. Thus, by the way, it would seem equally valid (if the word can be used in this context) to have matryoshki decorated with Winnie the Pooh or Harry Potter as with females in Russian peasant dress, and I no longer have to feel guilty about purchasing the former two for my grandchildren.

The ironies of the “peasant past as theme park” phenomenon were brought home to me, when we got off the river boat at Uglich. There a souvenir торговый ряд of at least a mile in length had been set up for the benefit of boat tourists, complete with musicians, kiosks in the style of embellished huts, etc., etc. On the path, a stooped very old woman, of exactly the type whose absence I noted in the capitals, complete with headscarf, was attempting to sell postcards and roadside flowers. One of the tour directors, feeling that she was impeding the smooth flow of traffic off the several boats, said, and I quote verbatim, “Бабушка, уйдите отсюда, вам здесь нет места”[Grandma, go somewhere else, this is no place for you.] I guess the real thing is never welcome in the theme park.

If the Russian past has become a theme park, then its theme song is Kalinka. I was never much aware of Kalinka as anything other than one of many Russian folk songs, one that I rather liked. But with Soviet-style unanimity it seems to have been singled out by buskers, restaurant musicians, etc. I gradually got to feel about it as about some particularly annoying advertising jingle, and even, out of the kindness of my heart, tried to advise street musicians that they would get more tourist contributions if they were to play virtually anything else. It should be noted that the Soviet past is evidently too fresh and too raw to have yet undergone a similar process of theme-parkization. However, the profit motive being what it is, I would not rule such a development out. When you hear the first announcements that SovietLand is being built and will soon be open to the public, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Well, I guess that’s all except for a couple of personal peak experiences that I would like to share. There are more, but I am not without mercy and will save the rest for another column.

Biggest Realization (call it a “duh moment”): That “Подмосковные вечера”(translated into English as Moscow Suburban Evenings) is not about the barren plots filled with huge depressing apartment complexes (as, against all reason, I had always thought) but about the dacha regions.

Favorite Purchase. A T-shirt that has written on it: “ВСЕ БАБЫ КАК БАБЫ…А Я БОГИНЯ.”(All other broads are just dames, but I am a goddess.)

Greatest Linguistic Triumph. Picture this scene: Peterhof. A beautiful August morning. Slightly disheveled lady tourist (SDLT) with binoculars slung around her neck is confronted by довольно нахальный молодой человек (ДНМЧ) (smart-ass young man) who attempts to get her to buy postcards.

SDLT (quite politely) Нет, спасибо—не надо. (Thank you, I don’t want any.)

ДНМЧ (evidently, irritated by SDLT’s presumptuous attempt to speak his language and determined to show her up.) Нахально. Тогда дайте мне ваши бинокли—сегодня как раз день моего рождения. (Well, then give me your binoculars—today just happens to be my birthday.)

SDLT (in a tone of astonishment). Почему, кем вы мне приходитесь? (But why, who are you to me?)

ДНМЧ (inspired) Ведь я ваш потерянный внук—разве не узнаете? (Actually, I am your long-lost grandson, don’t you know me?)

SDLT (after a pause to consider this information) Нет, это невозможно—все мои внуки очень красивые. (No, that is impossible, all my grandsons are very handsome.)

Loud laughter from friends of ДНМЧ standing around in the vicinity. SDLT exits smugly.

ATA English to Russian Editing Webinar

July 16, 2019

Photo by J. Kelly Brito on Unsplash

On July 31, ATA will host a 2-hour practice-driven webinar for English to Russian translators on editing their own translations. During this webinar, participants will go through a sample text and practice their editing skills, as well as learn a framework to edit their own translations more efficiently.

You can register at https://www.atanet.org/webinars/ataWebinar203_russian_editing.php.

6 Anti-Love Poems on the Occasion of Valentine’s Day

February 14, 2018

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Do you find the Valentine’s Day celebration of romantic love a bit much? Do you cast about in search of refuge from the onslaught of bliss? Look no further! Lydia Razran Stone—the indefatigable editor of SlavFile and a specialist in translating Russian poetry—has put together a few of her translated of Russian poems focusing on the negatives of love to serve as your antidote to an excess of Valentine’s Day positivity. If you would like more poems in this vein, you can contact her at lydiastone@verizon.net for more of her translations.

A: THE MALE PERSPECTIVE

FYODOR TYUTCHEV: LOVE AS COMBAT

Предопределение Федор Тютчев 1851

Любовь, любовь – гласит преданье –
Союз души с душой родной –
Их съединенье, сочетанье,
И роковое их слиянье.
И… поединок роковой…

И чем одно из них нежнее
В борьбе неравной двух сердец,
Тем неизбежней и вернее,
Любя, страдая, грустно млея,
Оно изноет наконец…

Predestination Fedor Tyutchev 1851

Through love, through loves, as legends state it
Two kindred souls seek fusion true
Forever more to be related;
Ideal communion –destined, fated.
But fate locks them in combat too.

And in this combat one soul’s fires
Always burns with love more pure.
It suffers more, to more aspires,
But in the end that soul expires,
That’s its fate, predestined, sure.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: https://www.ruthenia.ru/tiutcheviana/stihi/bp/172.html

SASHA CHERNYY THE SAD CONSEQUENCES OF INFIDELITY: THE LONG SUFFERING HUSBAND

Колыбельная Саша Черный 1910

Мать уехала в Париж…
И не надо! Спи, мой чиж.
А-а-а! Молчи, мой сын,
Нет последствий без причин.
Черный, гладкий таракан
Важно лезет под диван,
От него жена в Париж
Не сбежит, о нет! шалишь!
С нами скучно. Мать права.
Новый гладок, как Бова,
Новый гладок и богат,
С ним не скучно… Так-то, брат!
А-а-а! Огонь горит,
Добрый снег окно пушит.
Спи, мой кролик, а-а-а!
Все на свете трын-трава…
Жили-были два крота,
Вынь-ка ножку изо рта!
Спи, мой зайчик, спи, мой чиж,—
Мать уехала в Париж.
Чей ты? Мой или его?
Спи, мой мальчик, ничего!
Не смотри в мои глаза…
Жили козлик и коза…
Кот козу увез в Париж…
Спи, мой котик, спи, мой чиж!
Через… год… вернется… мать…
Сына нового рожать…

Lullaby Sasha Cherny

Hush, my little sleepy-head.
Mama’s gone –to Paris fled.
Ah-Ah-Ah, please don’t you weep.
There were reasons, go to sleep.
Over there beneath the couch
Crawls a sleek and shiny roach.
Where’s his wife? In Paris, too?
No, she isn’t; that’s not true.
Life here’s dull, with you and me.
So says Mama, I agree.
Mama’s new one’s rich and sleek.
He won’t bore her in a week.
Ah-Ah-Ah! The candles glow;
Window panes pile up with snow.
Sleep my funny little man!
All the world’s not worth a damn…
Once there lived a deer and doe…
Do not chew upon your toe.
Sleep my bunny, rest your head!
Mama’s gone –to Paris fled.
Are you mine or are you his?
Doesn’t matter which it is!
Do not look at me like that…
Once there lived a kitty cat…
But a tom bore her away.
Sleep, my son, it’s almost day.
She’ll come back before too long
To birth us another son….

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: https://45parallel.net/sasha_chernyy/kolybelnaya_mat_uekhala.html

THE WOMAN’S PERSPECTIVE
Zinaida Gippius- EVEN IF IT IS GROTESQUE, MIGHT IT STILL BE LOVE?

Зинаида Гиппиус ДЬЯВОЛЕНОК 1906

Мне повстречался дьяволенок,
Худой и щуплый – как комар.
Он телом был совсем ребенок,
Лицом же дик: остер и стар.

Шел дождь… Дрожит, темнеет тело,
Намокла всклоченная шерсть…
И я подумал: эко дело!
Ведь тоже мерзнет. Тоже персть.

Твердят: любовь, любовь! Не знаю.
Не слышно что-то. Не видал.
Вот жалость… Жалость понимаю.
И дьяволенка я поймал.

Пойдем, детеныш! Хочешь греться?
Не бойся, шерстку не ерошь.
Что тут на улице тереться?
Дам детке сахару… Пойдешь?

А он вдруг эдак сочно, зычно,
Мужским, ласкающим баском
(Признаться – даже неприлично
И жутко было это в нем) –

Пророкотал: “Что сахар? Глупо.
Я, сладкий, сахару не ем.
Давай телятинки да супа…
Уж я пойду к тебе – совсем”.

Он разозлил меня бахвальством…
А я хотел еще помочь!
Да ну тебя с твоим нахальством!
И не спеша пошел я прочь.

Но он заморщился и тонко
Захрюкал… Смотрит, как больной…
Опять мне жаль… И дьяволенка
Тащу, трудясь, к себе домой.

Смотрю при лампе: дохлый, гадкий,
Не то дитя, не то старик.
И все твердит: “Я сладкий, сладкий…”
Оставил я его. Привык.

И даже как-то с дьяволенком
Совсем сжился я наконец.
Он в полдень прыгает козленком,
Под вечер – темен, как мертвец.

То ходит гоголем-мужчиной,
То вьется бабой вкруг меня,
А если дождик – пахнет псиной
И шерстку лижет у огня.

Я прежде всем себя тревожил:
Хотел того, мечтал о том…
А с ним мой дом… не то, что ожил,
Но затянулся, как пушком
Безрадостно-благополучно,
И нежно-сонно, и темно…
Мне с дьяволенком сладко-скучно…
Дитя, старик,- не все ль равно?

Такой смешной он, мягкий, хлипкий,
Как разлагающийся гриб.
Такой он цепкий, сладкий, липкий,
Все липнул, липнул – и прилип.

И оба стали мы – едины.
Уж я не с ним – я в нем, я в нем!
Я сам в ненастье пахну псиной
И шерсть лижу перед огнем…

Zinaida Gippius THE LITTLE DEVIL 1906

One night I met, to my surprise,
A puny devil, blue with cold—
No bigger than a child in size,
His feral face was gaunt and old.

He shivered in the icy rain,
Which had soaked through his matted pelt.
“This son of hell feels cold and pain–
We share one fate,” I somehow felt.

They talk of love! What do I know?
Love’s something I don’t understand.
But pity? Yes, it moves me. So
I seized that devil by the hand.

“You’ll surely freeze here on the street.
Come home with me; we’ll get you warm!
I’ll feed you something hot and sweet.
Don’t be afraid, I mean no harm.”

He spoke—his voice a booming bass
As thick, and rich, and smooth as honey–
From his lank throat so out of place
It seemed indecent, even funny.

“Am I a babe, seduced by sweets?
I cannot stand them, never could.
Just feed me soup and fat red meats
And I’ll move in with you for good.”

At his brash words I took offense,
(My own had been much more than kind.)
Disgusted with such insolence
I turned to go, but changed my mind.

He gave a squeal so thin and shrill;
His face contorted pitifully.
He seemed so weak and looked so ill,
I had to drag him home with me.

In lamplight he looked nasty, seedy
A mix of aged imp and baby,
Who kept repeating, “I’m a sweetie.”
“He’ll grow on me,” I thought, “just maybe.”

So I got used to all his ways;
And he soon made himself at home;
Days, like a child, he romps and plays;
At dusk reverts to senile gnome.

At times his walk’s a manly stride;
At times a prancing girlish step.
Before the hearth he licks his hide
And stinks of dog when weather’s wet.

I used to worry, fret and strive;
I dreamed and longed for foolish stuff…
He gave my home, if not new life,
At least a coat of fuzzy fluff.
Devoid of woe, devoid of joy,
Our life’s a dark, dull, drowsy song.
A senile devil, babe, or boy—
What do I care—we get along.

He is so funny, soft and flimsy,
A rotting mushroom past its prime,
He is so sweetly sticky, clingy;
He stuck to me and now he’s mine.

Now he and I have grown together.
Not just united; we’re the same.
I stink of dog in rainy weather,
And lick my fur before the flame.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: https://pishi-stihi.ru/dyavolenok-gippius.html

Marina Tsvetayeva: BETTER OFF WITHOUT IT, OR MAYBE NOT

Марина Цветаева 1915

Мне нравится, что вы больны не мной,
Мне нравится, что я больна не вами,
Что никогда тяжелый шар земной
Не уплывет под нашими ногами.

Мне нравится, что можно быть смешной –
Распущенной – и не играть словами,
И не краснеть удушливой волной,
Слегка соприкоснувшись рукавами.

Мне нравится еще, что вы при мне
Спокойно обнимаете другую,
Не прочите мне в адовом огне
Гореть за то, что я не вас целую.
Что имя нежное мое, мой нежный, не
Упоминаете ни днем, ни ночью – всуе…
Что никогда в церковной тишине
Не пропоют над нами: аллилуйя!

Спасибо вам и сердцем и рукой
За то, что вы меня – не зная сами! –
Так любите: за мой ночной покой,
За редкость встреч закатными часами,
За наши не-гулянья под луной,
За солнце, не у нас над головами,-
За то, что вы больны – увы! – не мной,
За то, что я больна – увы! – не вами!

Marina Tsvetayeva 1915

How nicе to know what ails me is not you,
How nice to know what ails you is not me.
And thus we’ll never feel, as lovers do,
Firm earth beneath us turn to flowing sea.
How nice to act the fool or talk too much,
Feel free to let you see me at my worst.
And if some day by chance our sleeves may touch.
No fiery flush my cool cheek will immerse.

How nice that you can calmly, though I’m near,
Enfold another woman in embrace;
That you do not berate me, do not jeer
When I display no urge to take her place;
That you my sweet, don’t seek to speak my name
Not heeding if it’s apt or apropos;
That loving vows we never will declaim;
Into the future hand and hand won’t go.

I’m grateful to you, more than I can tell,
For gifts of love, though given unaware:
For peaceful nights I sleep alone and well,
For keeping twilight trysts so very rare,
For moonlight walks that never came to be,
For sunlight not intended just for two.
Because, alas, you’re not what’s ailing me;
Because, alas, I’m not what’s ailing you.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: https://www.stihi-rus.ru/1/Cvetaeva/74.htm

SOME CONSOLATION
BULAT OKUDZHAVA: IF YOU’RE LUCKY AN UNHEALTHY LOVE TRANSFORMS INTO A BETTER KIND

Булат Окуджава 1959

Мне нужно на кого-нибудь молиться.
Подумайте, простому муравью
вдруг захотелось в ноженьки валиться,
поверить в очарованность свою!

И муравья тогда покой покинул,
все показалось будничным ему,
и муравей создал себе богиню
по образу и духу своему.

И в день седьмой, в какое-то мгновенье,
она возникла из ночных огней
без всякого небесного знаменья…
Пальтишко было легкое на ней.

Все позабыв — и радости и муки,
он двери распахнул в свое жилье
и целовал обветренные руки
и старенькие туфельки ее.,

И тени их качались на пороге.
Безмолвный разговор они вели,
красивые и мудрые, как боги,
и грустные, как жители земли.

Bulat Okudzhava-1959

I feel the need for someone I can pray to.
Imagine that a common lowly ant
Was overcome by yearning for a way to
Prostrate himself—as humble supplicant.

At peace no more, dispirited, frustrated
So all the world appeared to him mundane.
A goddess in his image he created
And worshipped her; his prayers were not in vain.

For when his days of prayer had numbered seven,
She did appear to him one winter’s night
Without a single augury from heaven…
The jacket that she wore was far too light.

Forgetting all the past – both pain and pleasure,
He opened wide the door out to the street
And kissed her hands, chapped raw from wind and weather,
And then the shabby slippers on her feet.

Two shadows moved like dancers in the entry.
And wordlessly communion seemed to flow.
And they were fair and wise like heaven’s gentry,
But sad like mortal folk on earth below.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: https://www.stihi-rus.ru/1/okud/32.htm

Nikolay Gumilyov: EVEN IF LOVE DOES NOT BRIDGE THE GENDER GAP, ONE CAN TRY

Николай Гумилев Жираф 1907

Сегодня, я вижу, особенно грустен твой взгляд
И руки особенно тонки, колени обняв.
Послушай: далёко, далёко, на озере Чад
Изысканный бродит жираф.

Ему грациозная стройность и нега дана,
И шкуру его украшает волшебный узор,
С которым равняться осмелится только луна,
Дробясь и качаясь на влаге широких озер.

Вдали он подобен цветным парусам корабля,
И бег его плавен, как радостный птичий полет.
Я знаю, что много чудесного видит земля,
Когда на закате он прячется в мраморный грот.

Я знаю веселые сказки таинственных стран
Про чёрную деву, про страсть молодого вождя,
Но ты слишком долго вдыхала тяжелый туман,
Ты верить не хочешь во что-нибудь кроме дождя.

И как я тебе расскажу про тропический сад,
Про стройные пальмы, про запах немыслимых трав.
Ты плачешь? Послушай… далёко, на озере Чад
Изысканный бродит жираф.

Nikolay Gumilyov The Giraffe 1907

I see that this morning your eyes are especially sad;
Especially slender the arms that encircle your calves
Well, listen, far off to the south on the shores of Lake Chad,
There roams the exquisite giraffe.

To him have been given harmonious figure and grace,
His hide is embellished with pattern of magic design,
Which only the Moon would have daring enough to retrace
As playfully dancing she dapples the lake with her shine.

He seems at a distance a luminous sail on the waves
And fluid his gait, like a bird in its rapturous flight.
But only the Earth knows the site of the marble walled caves
To which he retreats when the sun starts to set every night.

I’d cheer you with tales of this land full of legend and song,
Of young tribal chiefs and dark maids, of their passion and pain…
But you have been breathing the fogs of the North for too long
And don’t want to believe there is anything else but the rain.

No lighthearted tales of the tropics can make your heart glad
You cannot imagine the palms or the scent of the alien grass…
You’re crying? Well, listen…on the distant shores of Lake Chad
There roams the exquisite giraffe.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: https://gumilev.ru/verses/375/

All translations by Lydia Razran Stone, published with permission.

Stage Russia: Russian theater comes to you

November 10, 2017

Photo by Felix Mooneeram on Unsplash

For Russian theater lovers, Russian languages fans and anyone looking for new and fun ways to keep improving their Russian language skills, this screening and streaming program is a great option.
Stage Russia shows a variety of classical and contemporary plays staged by leading Russian theaters with English subtitles. As a Muscovite, I am delighted to have access to Satirikon’s Seagull and to be able to see other performances that would have been unavailable to me otherwise. Even if you are not a die-hard Butusov fan, you might enjoy other Stage Russia recordings, from Uncle Vanya to Drillalians.
It is also possible to organize viewings for colleges and to request viewings at local libraries (for free or for a licensing fee): https://www.stagerussia.com/streaming.
Read more about the project here. And, if you go to a screening, please consider writing a review for SlavFile or for SLD blog!