Перевод или подлинник? / Translation or original?

Вчера вечером, листая афоризмы Лихтенберга, я увидел рядом стоящего "Героя нашего времени" на немецком, и я просто не мог вспоминать, читал ли я эту книгу в переводе или в подлиннике? У меня на книжной полке и подлинник, и перевод, и только, когда я заглянул в послесловие немецкого издания, я убедился, что именно читал перевод. У меня так и бывает с беседами - я их вспоминаю на другом языке, чем том, на котором они на самом деле проводились.

Yesterday, while browsing Lichtenberg's Aphorisms, the German translation of Lermontov's "A Hero of our Times" caught my eye and I could't remember whether I read that book in German or in the Russian original; I've got both on my book shelve. Only after I checked the afterword I was sure that I indeed read that novel in translation. Something similar happens to me with conversations - I frequently remember them in another language than the one they were actually held in.

Measuring Billy Joel

The first time I came across an article dismissing Billy Joel I was just surprised. Now it happened again, and I must say I'm still surprised. I know that Billy Joel has pretensions to be more than a pop singer and I also find his attempts to be a socially critical chronicler of his age a bit ridiculous ("We didn't start the fire", anyone?), but does this really make him the "Worst Pop Singer Ever"? There are certainly much, much worse pop singers out there. Well, maybe I'm just angry because I really like "Piano Man" and "Always a Woman". But who cares whether "Always a Woman" echoes Dylan? We definitely could need more singers copying themes (and schemes) from Bob.

Die Vermessenheit der Vermessung (A note on Kehlmann "Measuring the World")

Ein weiteres Weihnachtsgeschenk war Daniel Kehlmanns "Die Vermessung der Welt". Es gibt dazu genug im Internet (z. B. diese Besprechung und dieses Interview), also nur eine kurze Bemerkung - das Buch lässt sich gut lesen und ist intelligent geschrieben, aber es ist mit Vorsicht zu geniessen, da es historisch falsche Behauptungen enthält und die Hauptprotagonisten - Gauß und Alexander v. Humboldt - zu Karikaturen verzerrt.

If you come across Daniel Kehlmann's "Measuring the world" (I got it as a Christmas present), enjoy reading it, but if you're interested in Gauss or Humboldt, better read a biography - the characters are distorted to illustrate points about life, knowledge, and Germanness Kehlmann wants to make, and for that reason he also takes liberties with the facts.

Having read "The Reader"

I put the book on my Christmas wish list, and Santa acted accordingly. So now I know I was wrong as well - the real reason why Michael isn't able to build lasting relationships with women is simply that he cannot get over Hanna, even after he finds out what she has done. In the book, he not only doesn't turn down one-night stands, he even marries and has a daughter, but the marriage ends in divorce for the simple reason that his wife cannot compete with his memories of Hanna, a problem shared by all the girl friends he has afterwards. There is guilt and agonising, as well as phases of total emotional numbness, after Michael discovers Hanna's past, but the book is never as simple as "I can't have any woman any more because I slept with a Nazi". I cannot tell whether the film or its reviewer are guilty of this over-simplification, but it doesn't do justice to the book. In any case, I recommend reading it.

Guilt & Trust

I normally don't talk about books or films I haven't read. But I came across this review of the film version of "The Reader", and I really was puzzled by the reviewer's seeming lack of understanding:

Maybe I'm lacking in moral complexity (or maybe this is a uniquely German story that translates poorly to an American context), but The Reader's central problem (which seems reducible to "I shagged a Nazi") strikes me as a bogus one.
If Michael can say, truthfully, that he knew nothing about his lover's past, doesn't that effectively absolve him of guilt? A lifetime of Fiennes-ian brooding seems a steep price to pay for one summer of unwitting fascistic congress. And even if Michael can't help but feel haunted by his fling, shouldn't others (like the Holocaust survivor he confronts near the end of the film, played by Lena Olin) let him off the hook? Why on earth should a horny teenage boy have to abstain from sex with a willing blond goddess on the off chance she might be SS?

Just by reading the review, it is clear that we're not talking about a one-night stand, but about a relationship enduring a summer long that was deep and meaningful for Michael, even if perhaps not for Hanna. Without having read the book or seen the film, I would assume that Michael's problem is not so much guilt, but disappointment and loss of trust, especially in his own feelings - how could he fall in love with a woman who did such unspeakable deeds? How can he be sure that the next woman he falls in love with, or he simply is attracted to, doesn't hide a hideous character behind a beautiful face?
Even if Michael's reaction, to reject all deeper relationships with women, may still seem exaggerated, I think it's much easier to understand as based on loss of trust and confidence in his own ability to correctly assess other people's character, than as based on guilt by association. It's a feeling probably known to many people who, after the excesses of the 20th century, had to find out that a loved person had perpetrated crimes against humanity in the past.

Apocalypse broken

The LHC doesn't create a black hole, it breaks down. That's comforting.
Kein schwarzes Loch heute, der LHC ist leider kaputt. Das ist doch beruhigend.
Люди ожидали худшего, а получилось как всегда.

Personal Progress

Now Cyrillic shows on my website. It shows what a newbie I am - to me, even the Windows "edit your web site in Word" function is helpful. Embarassing.
The only thing that's more embarassing is that I added a poetry section. Don't worry, it's only for bad poems.