Traveller’s Comments (group member since Jan 14, 2015)

Traveller’s comments from the On Paths Unknown group.

Cecily wrote: "Good point, though if you dropped two babies(!), I presume they would develop some sort of language. And maybe if it was one baby but there were friendly animals, the child may grow up to "speak" and understand something of the grunts and growls of those animals. Language is pretty deep-seated in our brains, isn't it?."

It is, but exactly because we are social animals. In Genesis, the creator is described as a single being, the precursor of all else, so why would such a being need language? ...as is the "magician stranger" in The Circular Ruins an isolated, single being - sure, he talks in his dreams, but he does not talk in order to create rather than to instruct.

The fact that you'd need 2 babies illustrates the point about language. :)

On the other hand, language can also be used to create, but it is always a second-hand creation, once removed from reality.

Now I feel rather conflicted about Naipaul. If it had not been that at some point a course on postcolonialism was inflicted upon me, I would have given him a skip, but "The Mimic Men" has been quite extensively referred to in various postcolonial literature and theory, which to me, made the book one of those "must-read" background books that you feel you need to have read to have a solid background in literature.

It does look charming, doesn't it? :)

Cecily wrote: "Traveller wrote: "in this story, the method of creation is by 'dreaming', which I find rather interesting, since one does not normally have control over your dreaming/dreams."

Very true, but when ..."

To me it feels as if dreaming things into creation almost seems more direct and intuitive than speaking things into creation, because speaking presupposes a language, and languages only evolve with time and through usage as a means of communication between people.

If a person was dropped on a desert island as a baby and grew up there in isolation, he would not know any words or language; but he can still imagine and dream.

Also, words are only signifiers, and therefore less 'direct' than images. It is much easier to conceive of an entire scenario when you're imagining it as images and concepts in your mind, than to have to describe it in words - and just the fact that we are coming across all these differences in the various translations of this story, is a good example of how words can be only imprecise and approximated in their denotation of reality.

Ruth wrote: "LeGuin's Lathe of Heaven.
."
mark wrote: "Ready Player One.."

Both those have been on my TBR for ages - nice to see the intertextual interplay of ideas going on here, with the Matrix as well. It's in instances like these that group discussions can be immensely enriching- each person brings their own vision and context and background experience to the table, and all who partake benefit from the ensuing mosaic. ^_^

Oh, and this is what the yet other translation says: (Not sure who this t/lator is, I think it might be Ruth Simms)

He understood that the task of molding the incoherent and dizzying stuff that dreams are made of is the most difficult work a man can undertake, even if he fathom(sic) all the enigmas of the higher and lower spheres— much more difficult than weaving a rope of sand or minting coins of the faceless wind.

Well, it seems to me that that section is all about the varying difficulty of creating various things, right? How difficult one thing is to create compared to how easy or difficult another thing is to create.

I looked up the meaning of "coin" as a verb, and got:
"To make (pieces of money) from metal; mint or strike: coined silver dollars. 2. To make pieces of money from (metal): coin gold. 3. To devise (a new word or phrase).

...and since making a rope out of sand seems a pretty hard thing to do, not to mention to devise or capture the wind, then if manufacturing the stuff that dreams are made of, is even harder to do, it must be really really very hard to create.
Work of a magician indeed. :)

Just for interest's sake, this is how the paragraph rings in the Giovanni edition:

He realized that, though he may penetrate all the riddles of the higher and lower orders, the task of shaping the senseless and dizzying stuff of dreams is the hardest that a man can attempt—much harder than weaving a rope of sand or of coining the faceless wind.

I think I prefer incoherent and vertiginous to senseless and dizzying...

Oh, btw! I see you have Area X: The Southern Reach Trilogy marked, by Jeff Vandermeer.

I think we'll definitely doing at least one of those in the not too distant future. :) Perhaps not prizewinning, but I see at least it was nominated for the World Fantasy Award Winners, if any credentials were needed... XD

Of course your suggestion will be included, Alex! That's what this thread is for, after all! For you guys to make suggestions so that we can include them in a poll, and even if it doesn't make first place, we can always keep it on our list for later on. I'll add it to the bookshelf for you. ;)

This one? The Chimes

Let the will of the people speak! :D

Yes, indeed, I must admit I had looked at the half-empty glass instead of the half-full glass WRT the eye for an eye. Many of the punishments were still harsh though, for example public stoning for homosexuality or adultery.

But yeah, much better if you weren't killed just for stealing a loaf of bread, for example.

I think most people in our modern age are aware (pardon me if I'm wrong) that the Old and New Testaments of the Christian bible were both written by various people and that the books which were included in the Catholic bible were cherry-picked at the Council of Nicea, of which some of the books were thrown out by the Lutheran and Calvinist reformers later on.

I do admit that I don't know all that much about ancient Jewish traditional culture at grass-roots level though. I know a bit of how various groups live these days, through contact with my Jewish friends, but one never knows if things you read reflect common practice or if they're just extreme examples.

Oh, that reminds me of how the story made me reflect that it is interesting that in Genesis, the creation story is based on "the word". The Genesis creation is very oral. God speaks everything into creation. Also, according to John 1.1: " In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God."

And of course in this story, the method of creation is by 'dreaming', which I find rather interesting, since one does not normally have control over your dreaming/dreams.

Will do, Cecily.

So is anyone interested in reading The Mimic Men by V.S. Naipaul ? The book generated quite a lot of literary criticism and even political commentary, and it won the 1968 WH Smith Literary Award.

Of course, V.S. Naipaul also won a Booker prize, a Nobel prize, and a David Cohen British Literature Prize.

Well, I -might- be interested in In a Free State with some extra motivation, but I am definitely interested in The Mimic Men, the latter being a book which has generated a lot of literary criticism and even political commentary.

Cecily wrote: "Yes, I know there's a lot of overlap. I'm not very good at keeping tabs on groups, so I hope I'll notice when it comes up."

If you tell me now you'd like to join in, I will check on you to make sure you know. :)

Maybe a good idea to mention it in this group as well when the time comes.

Well, I'd better trot over there soon and make a more formal announcement, eh?

See, the thing is that my original source for this story was the New Directions version of Labyrinths: Selected Stories and Other Writings, - (that's the one that talks of dilacerated flesh) but it has a few translators for the various stories, and it doesn't say whose translation of Circular Ruins it contains. From this article

Since the first American translations of Borges, attempted in the Fifties by well-intentioned admirers such as Donald Yates and James Irby, English-speaking readers have been very poorly served. From the uneven versions collected in Labyrinths to the more meticulous, but ultimately unsuccessful, editions published by Norman Thomas di Giovanni, from Ruth Simm's abominable apery of 'Other Inquisitions' to Paul Bowles's illiterate rendition of 'The Circular Ruins', Borges in English must be read in spite of the translations. That one of the key writers of the century should lack an outstanding translator is indicative of how low 'foreign' literature lies in the estimation of English-language publishers. English-language readers have either to resign themselves to the old, barely serviceable translations, or submit to the new, barely serviceable translations by Andrew Hurley, Professor of English at the University of Puerto Rico.

Hurley has no ear for the rhythms of Borges's language. 'Funes el memorioso' is for Hurley 'Funes, His Memory' which is both inaccurate and ugly. 'Hombre de la Esquina Rosada' becomes 'Man on Pink Corner', in inexplicable pidgin English. 'The Circular Ruins', whose perfect prose can be recited like a poem, begins felicitously in Hurley's rendition with 'No one saw him slip from the boat in the unanimous night' and then sinks ignominiously with 'no one saw the bamboo canoe' and its inappropriate rhyme. A number of stories have been decently translated and are as readable as the best among the earlier versions, but mere readability is not good enough. http://www.theguardian.com/books/1999... I am deducing it might be Paul Bowles.

I see the copy that Cecily linked to, is neither the Di Giovanni or the Hurley translation, and there are (apparently?) only 2 others, being Ruth Simms and Paul Bowles, so I am wondering then, if the one that Cecily linked to would be the Ruth Simms translation?

Cecily wrote: "But China's book will be in the Mievellians group, won't it? And do you mean Three Moments of an Explosion, or is there another I don't know of? .."

Sorry, Cecily - yes that one (though apparently there's a new novel coming too!). I did post about it on Mievillians a few weeks ago. Yes, to be discussed on Mievillians of course, but, you know, a lot of us are the same people here and on that group, so...

Hmmm... the Andrew Hurley might be a bit more poetic, though?

...and just to give you an idea, this is the Andrew Hurley translation, which in itself is already more natural than the translation that talks about dilacerated flesh:

No one saw him slip from the boat in the unanimous night, no one saw the bamboo canoe as it sank into the sacred mud, and yet within days there was no one who did not know that the taciturn man had come there from the South, and that his homeland was one of those infinite villages that lie up-river, on the violent flank of the mountain, where the language of the Zend is uncontaminated by Greek and where leprosy is uncommon. But in fact the gray man had kissed the mud, scrambled up the steep bank (without pushing back, probably without even feeling, the sharp-leaved bulrushes that slashed his flesh), and dragged himself, faint and bloody, to the circular enclosure, crowned by the stone figure of a horse or tiger, which had once been the color of fire but was now the color of ashes. That ring was a temple devoured by an ancient holocaust;
now, the malarial jungle had profaned it and its god went unhonored by mankind. The foreigner lay down at the foot of the pedestal.

Listen, friends, do see if you can get hold of a Di Giovanni translation; it's so much more natural! Let me give you an excerpt:

And if he left off dreaming about you. . . .
Through the Looking-Glass, IV

Nobody saw him come ashore in the encompassing night,
nobody saw the bamboo craft run aground in the sacred
mud, but within a few days everyone knew that the quiet
man had come from the south and that his home was
among the numberless villages upstream on the steep slopes
of the mountain, where the Zend language is barely tainted
by Greek and where lepers are rare. The fact is that the
gray man pressed his lips to the mud, scrambled up the
bank without parting (perhaps without feeling) the brushy
thorns that tore his flesh, and dragged himself, faint and
bleeding, to the circular opening watched over by a stone
tiger, or horse, which once was the color of fire and is now
the color of ash. This opening is a temple which was
destroyed ages ago by flames, which the swampy wilderness
later desecrated, and whose god no longer receives the
reverence of men. The stranger laid himself down at the
foot of the image.

Paul Martin wrote: "Thanks for the recommendation Added to my list. When I feel like trying him again, I'll be sure to remember it!"

You're welcome, Paul. I hope you like it - it's a novella, really, and it might seem a bit repetitive, because the story is told from various people's viewpoints, but that is part of the genius of it - it's like a mosaic that is slowly pieced together, and there's a good bit of social commentary hidden between the lines if you look carefully. Also, I love the way that he holds his passion in , but it bleeds through the cracks more and more... boy, I should add all of that to my review! :D (One of my first reviews, so it's rather... perfunctory. :P)