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In 1987 I dreamt of this sculpture with a concave propeller to send the pressure to the center and then lock it in a glass cylinder. The movement of the crank makes a typhoon like the legs of the Greek god or Set's movements to leave the mineral world and give life to the vegetable world and represent the transmutation of a man who frees himself from real life to finally become a Light Body.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator
Set /sɛt/ or Seth /sɛθ/ (Egyptian: stẖ; also transliterated Setesh, Sutekh[1], Setekh, or Suty) is a god of the desert, storms, disorder, violence, and foreigners in ancient Egyptian religion. In Ancient Greek, the god's name is given as Sēth (Σήθ). Set had a positive role where he accompanies Ra on his solar boat to repel Apep, the serpent of Chaos. Set had a vital role as a reconciled combatant. He was lord of the red (desert) land where he was the balance to Horus' role as lord of the black (soil) land.
The term typhoon is the regional name in the northwest Pacific for a severe (or mature) tropical cyclone, whereas hurricane is the regional term in the northeast Pacific and northern Atlantic. Elsewhere this is called a tropical cyclone, severe tropical cyclone, or severe cyclonic storm.
The Oxford English Dictionary cites Urdu ṭūfān and Chinese tai fung giving rise to several early forms in English. The earliest forms -- "touffon", later "tufan", "tuffon", and others -- derive from Urdu ṭūfān, with citations as early as 1588. From 1699 appears "tuffoon", later "tiffoon", derived from Chinese with spelling influenced by the older Urdu-derived forms. The modern spelling "typhoon" dates to 1820, preceded by "tay-fun" in 1771 and "ty-foong", all derived from the Chinese tai fung.
The Urdu source word توفان ṭūfān ("violent storm"; cognate to Hindi तूफ़ान (tūfān))[7] comes via Persian from Arabic طوفان (ṭūfān), which may derive from the verb tūfīdan (Persian: توفیدن/طوفیدن, "to roar, to blow furiously")[citation needed] or Arabic ṭāfa, to turn round.
The Chinese source is the word tai fung (simplified Chinese: 台风; traditional Chinese: 颱風; pinyin: táifēng), cited as a common dialect form of Mandarin dà "big" and fēng "wind". In Mandarin the word for the windstorm is 大风 (dàfēng, "big wind") and in Cantonese 大風 (daai6 fung1, "big wind"). The modern Japanese word, 台風 (たいふう, taifuu), is also derived from Chinese. The first character is normally used to mean "pedestal" or "stand", but is actually a simplification of the older kanji 颱, which means "typhoon"; thus the word originally meant "typhoon wind".
The Ancient Greek Τυφῶν (Tuphôn, Typhon) is not unrelated and has secondarily contaminated the word. The Persian and Chinese terms may have been originated by the Greek word in the first place.
SET, OR SETH, whom the Greeks called Typhon, the nefarious demon of death and evil in Egyptian mythology, is characterised as "a strong god (a-pahuti), whose anger is to be feared." The inscriptions call him "the powerful one of Thebes," and "Ruler of the South." He is conceived as the sun that kills with the arrows of heat; he is the slayer, and iron is called the bones of Typhon. The hunted animals are consecrated to him; and his symbols are the griffin (akhekh), the hippopotamus, the crocodile, the swine, the tortoise, and, above all the serpent âpapi (in Greek "apophis") who was thought to await the dying man in the domain of the god Atmu (also called Tmu or Tum), who represents the sun below the western horizon.
According to Herman te Velde, the demonization of Set took place after Egypt's conquest by several foreign nations in the Third Intermediate and Late Periods. Set, who had traditionally been the god of foreigners, thus also became associated with foreign oppressors, including the Assyrian and Persian empires.[31] It was during this time that Set was particularly vilified, and his defeat by Horus widely celebrated.
Set's negative aspects were emphasized during this period. Set was the killer of Osiris, having hacked Osiris' body into pieces and dispersed it so that he could not be resurrected. The Greeks would later associate Set with Typhon, a monstrous and evil force of raging nature. Both were sons of deities representing the Earth (Gaia and Geb) who attacked the principal deities (Osiris for Set, Zeus for Typhon).
Nevertheless, throughout this period, in some outlying regions of Egypt, Set was still regarded as the heroic chief deity.
Set has also been classed as a trickster deity who, as a god of disorder, resorts to deception to achieve bad ends.
Set's pictures are easily recognised by his long, erect, and square-tipped ears and his proboscis-like snout, which are said to indicate the head of a fabulous animal called Oryx. The consort and feminine counterpart of Set is called Taour or Taourt. The Greeks called her Theouris. She appears commonly as a hippopotamus in erect posture, her back covered with the skin and tail of a crocodile.
Set is often contrasted with Osiris. Set was the deity of the desert, of drought and feverish thirst, and of the sterile ocean; Osiris represents moisture, the Nile, the fertilising powers and life. Plutarch says:
"The moon (representing Osiris) is, with his fertilising and fecundative light, favorable to the produce of animals and growth of plants; the sun, however (representing Typhon), is determined, with its unmitigated fire, to overheat and parch animals; it renders by its blaze a great part of the earth uninhabitable and conquers frequently even the moon (viz., Osiris)."
As an enemy to life, Set is identified with all destruction. He is the waning of the moon, the decrease of the waters of the Nile, and the setting of the sun. Thus he was called the left or black eye of the decreasing sun, governing the year from the summer solstice to the winter solstice, which is contrasted with the right or bright eye of Hor, the increasing sun, which symbolises the growth of life and the spread of light from the winter solstice to the summer solstice.
Set was not always nor to all Egyptians alike a Satanic deity. He was officially worshipped in an unimportant province west of the Nile, but this was the natural starting-point of the road to the northern oasis. The inhabitants, who were mostly guides to desert caravans, had good reasons to remain on friendly terms with Set, the Lord of the desert.
Further, we know that a great temple was devoted to Set, as the god of war, in Tanis, near the swamps between the eastern branches of the Delta, an important town of the frontier, and during the time of invasion the probable seat of the foreign dominion of the Hyksos and
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the Hyttites, who identified their own god Sutech with the Egyptian Set. But even among the Hyksos, Set was revered as the awful God of irresistible power, of brute force, of war, and of destruction.
There is an old wall-picture of Karnak, belonging to the era of the eighteenth dynasty, in which the god Set appears as an instructor of King Thothmes III. in the science of archery.
Sety I., the second king of the nineteenth dynasty, the shepherd kings, derives his name from the god Seta sign of the high honor in which he was held among the shepherd kings; and indeed we are informed that they regarded Set, or Sutech, as the only true God, the sole deity, who alone was worthy of receiving divine honors.
If the time of the shepherd kings is to be identified with the settlement of Jacob's sons in Egypt, and if the
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monotheism of the Hyksos is the root of Moses's religion, what food for thought lies in the fact that the same awe of a fearful power that confronts us in life, changes among the Egyptians into the demonology of Set, and among the Israelites into the cult of Yahveh!
In spite of the terror which he inspired, Set was originally not merely an evil demon but one of the great deities, who, as such, was feared and propitiated.
Says Heinrich Brugsch (Religion und Mythologie der alten Aegypter, p. 706):
"The Book of the Dead of the ancient Egyptians and the numerous inscriptions of the recently opened pyramids are, indeed, nothing but talismans against the imagined Seth and his associates. Such is also, I am sorry to say, the greater part of the ancient literature that has come down to us."
When a man dies, he passes the western horizon and descends through Atmu's abode into Amenti, the Nether World. The salvation of his personality depends, according to Egyptian belief, upon the preservation of his "double," or his "other self," which, remaining in the tomb, resides in the mummy or in any statue of his body.
The double, just as if it were alive, is supposed to be in need of food and drink, which is provided for by incantations. Magic formulas satisfy the hunger and thirst of the double in the tomb, and frustrate, through invocations of the good deities, all the evil intentions of Set and his host. We read in an inscription of Edfu (Brugsch, Religion und Mythologie der alten Aegypter, p. 767):
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Hail Ra, thou art radiant in thy radiance,
While there is darkness in the eyes of Apophis!
Hail Ra, good is thy goodness,
While Apophis is bad in its badness!"
The dread of hunger, thirst, and other ills, or even of destruction which their double might suffer in the tomb, was a perpetual source of fearful anticipations to every pious Egyptian. The anxiety to escape the tortures of their future state led to the embalming of the dead and to the building of the pyramids. Yet, in spite of all superstitions and the ridiculous pomp bestowed upon the burial of the body we find passages in the inscriptions which give evidence that in the opinion of many thoughtful people the best and indeed the sole means of protection against the typhonic influences after death was a life of righteousness. This is forcibly expressed in the illustration of Chapter CXXV. of the Book of the Dead, which is here reproduced according to Lepsius's edition of the Turin papyrus. (Republished by Putnam, Book of the Dead).
The picture of the Hall of Truth as preserved in the Turin papyrus shows Osiris with the atef-crown on his head and the crook and whip in his hands. Above the beast of Amenti we see the two genii Shai and Ranen, which represent Misery and Happiness. The four funeral genii, called Amset, Hapi, Tuamutef, and Kebhsnauf, hover over an altar richly laden with offerings. The frieze shows twelve groups of uræus snakes, flames and feathers of truth; on both sides scales are poised by a baboon who is the sacred animal of Thoth, and in the middle Atmu stretches out his hands over the right and left eye, symbolising sunset and sunrise, death and resurrection.
Mâ, 1 the goddess of truth and "the directress of the gods," decorated with an erect feather which is her emblem, ushers the departed one into the Hall of Truth. Kneeling, the departed one invokes the forty-two assessors by name and disclaims having committed any one of the forty-two sins of the Egyptian moral code. Omitting the names of the assessors, we quote here an extract of the confession. The departed one says:
"I did not do evil.--I did not commit violence.--I did not torment any heart.--I did not steal. I did not cause any one to be treacherously killed.--I did not lessen the offerings.--I did not do any harm.--I did not utter a lie.--I did not make any one weep.--I did not commit acts of self-pollution. --I did not fornicate.--I did not trespass.--I did not commit any perfidy.--I did no damage to cultivated land.--I was no accuser.--I was never angry without sufficient reason.--I did not turn a deaf ear to the words of truth.--I did not commit witchcraft.--I did not blaspheme.--I did not cause a slave to be maltreated by his master.--I did not despise God in my heart."
Then the departed one places his heart on the balance of truth, where it is weighed by the hawk-headed Hor and the jackal-headed Anubis, "the director of the weight," the weight being shaped in the figure of the goddess of truth. Thoth, the ibis-headed scribe of the gods, reads Hor's report to Osiris, and if it announces that the weight of the heart is equal to truth, Thoth orders it to be placed back into the breast of the departed
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one, which act indicates his return to life. If the departed one escapes all the dangers that await him in his descent to Amenti, and if the weight of his heart is not found wanting, he is allowed to enter into "the boat of the sun,)' in which he is conducted to the Elysian fields of the blessed.
Should the evil deeds of the departed one outweigh his good deeds, he was sentenced to be devoured by Amemit (i. e., the devourer), which is also called "the beast of Amenti," or was sent back to the upper world in the shape of a pig.
While the double stays in the tomb, the soul, represented as a bird with a human head, soars to heaven where it becomes one with all the great gods. The liberated soul exclaims (Erman, ib., p. 343 et seq.):
"I am the god Atum, I who was alone,
"I am the god Ra at his first appearing,
"I am the great god who created himself, and created his name I Lord of the gods, who has not his equal.'
"I was yesterday, and I know the to-morrow. The battlefield of the gods -was made when I spoke.
"I come into my home, I come into my native city.
"I commune daily with my father Atum.
"My impurities are driven out, and the sin that was in me is conquered.
"Ye gods above, reach out your hands, I am like you, I have become one of you.
"I commune daily with my father Atum.
Having become one with the gods, the departed soul suffers the same fate as Osiris. Like him, it is slain by Set, and like Osiris, it is reborn in Hor who revenges the death of his father. At the same time the soul is supposed
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frequently to visit the double of the departed man in the tomb, as depicted in the tomb of the scribe Ani.
The Abode of Bliss (in Egyptian Sechnit aanru, also written aahlu), as depicted in the Turin papyrus of the Book of the Dead, shows us the departed one with his family, and Thoth, the scribe of the gods, behind them, in the act of sacrificing to three gods, the latter being decorated with the feather of truth. He then crosses the water. On the other side, he offers a perfuming pan to his soul which appears in the shape of a man-headed bird. There are also the three mummy-form gods of the horizon, with an altar of offerings before the hawk, symbolising Ra, "the master of heaven." In the middle part of the picture the departed one ploughs, sows, reaps, threshes, stores up the harvest, and celebrates a thanksgiving with offerings to the Nile. The lower part shows two barks, one for Ra Harmakhis, the other one for Unefru; and the three islands: the first is inhabited by Ra, the second is called the regenerating place of the gods, the third is the residence of Shu, Tefnut, and Seb.
A very instructive illustration of Egyptian belief is afforded us in the well-preserved tomb of Rekhmara, the prefect of Thebes under Thothmes III. of the eighteenth dynasty, the inscriptions of which have been translated into French by Ph. Virey and were published in 1889 by the Mission Archéologique Française.
The visitor to the tomb enters through a door on the eastern end; when proceeding westward, we see Rekhmara on the left wall pass from life to death. Here he attends to the affairs of the government, there he receives in the name of Pharaoh the homage of foreign princes;
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further on he organises the work of building magazines at Thebes. He superintends the artists engaged at the Temple of Ammon and is then buried in pomp. At last he assumes the appearance of the Osiris of the West and receives sacrifices in his capacity as a god. We are now confronted with a blind door through which Rekhmara-Osiris descends into the West and returns to life toward the East as the Osiris of the East. Through funeral sacrifices and incantations his double is again invested with the use of the various senses; he is honored at a festival and graciously received by Pharaoh; in a word, he acts as he did in life. When we return to the entrance where we started, Rekhmara receives the offerings of his family and inspects the progress of the works to which he attended in life.
In the tomb of Rekhmara, Set receives offerings like other great gods. The departed one is called the inheritor of Set (Suti), and is purified by both Hor and Set. As an impersonation of Osiris, the departed one is approached and slain by Set, who then is vanquished in the shape of sacrificial animals which are slaughtered. But when the departed one is restored to the use of his senses and mental powers, Set again plays an important part, and appears throughout as one of the four points of the compass, which are "Hor, Set, Thoth, and Seb." 1
According to the original legend, Set represented the death of the sun, and as a personality he is described as the murderer of Osiris, who was finally reconciled with Hor. He remained, however, a powerful god, and had important functions to perform for the souls of the dead.
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Above all, he must bind and conquer the serpent Apophis (Apap), as we read in the Book of The Dead (108, 4 and 5):
"They use Set to circumvent it [the serpent]; they use him to throw an iron chain around its neck, to make it vomit all that it has swallowed."
1n the measure that the allegorical meaning of the Osiris legend is obliterated, and that Osiris is conceived as a real person who as the representative of moral goodness, succumbs in his struggle with evil and dies, but is resurrected in his son Hor, Set is more and more deprived of his divinity and begins to be regarded as an evil demon.
The reign of Men-Kau-Ra, the builder of the third pyramid of Gizeh (according to Brugsch, 3633 B. C., and according to Mariette, 4100 B. C.), must have changed the character of the old Egyptian religion. "The prayer to Osiris on his coffin lid," says Rawlinson (Vol. II., p. 67), "marks a new religious development in the annals of Egypt. The absorption of the justified soul in Osiris, the cardinal doctrine of the Ritual of the Dead, makes its appearance here for the first time."
According to the older canon Set is always mentioned among the great deities, but later on he is no longer recognised as a god, and his name is replaced by that of some other god. The Egyptians of the twenty-second dynasty went so far as to erase Set's name from many of the older inscriptions and even to change the names of former kings that were compounds of Set, such as Set-nekht and others. The crocodile-headed Ceb (also called. Seb or Keb) and similar deities, in so far as their
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nature was suggestive of Set, suffered a similar degradation; and this, we must assume, was the natural consequence of an increased confidence in the final victory of the influence of the gods of goodness and virtue.
Plutarch, speaking of his own days, says (On Isis and Osiris, Chapter XXX.) that:
"The power of Typhon, although dimmed and crushed, is still in its last agonies and convulsions. The Egyptians occasionally humiliate and insult him at certain festivals. They nevertheless propitiate and soothe him by means of certain sacrifices."
Set, the great and strong god of prehistoric times, was converted into Satan with the rise of the worship of Osiris. Set was strong enough to slay Osiris, as night overcomes the light of the sun; but the sun is born again in the child-god Hor, who conquers Set and forces him to make the old serpent of death surrender its spoil. As the sun sets to rise again, so man dies to be reborn. The evil power is full of awe, but a righteous cause cannot be crushed, and, in spite of death, life is immortal.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Set_(deity)
Translators Workshop TED2016 - Dream, February 15-19, 2016, Vancouver Convention Center, Vancouver, Canada. Photo: Marla Aufmuth / TED
The first Class 345 Crossrail Line 1 (Elizabeth) train plus one of the translator carriages pass by platform 10a at Stratford station London whilst on their way to Ilford depot.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti was an English poet, illustrator, painter and translator. He was one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood in 1848 and was later to be the main inspiration for second generation of artists and writers influenced by the movement. He was also a major precursor of the Aesthetic movement. Rossetti's art was characterised by its sensuality and its medieval revivalism. His early poetry was influenced by Keats. Rossetti's personal life was closely linked to his work, especially his relationships with his models and muses Elizabeth Siddal and Jane Morris.
Rossetti painted this picture while he was staying at Kelmscott Manor, the house he part-owned with his friend William Morris, following his breakdown and suicide attempt in 1872. Morris stayed away, but his wife Jane - with whom Rossetti was in love - was there. The honeysuckle and roses around the top of the harp in this picture indicate sexual attraction, while the harp itself represents music - a common metaphor for love and lovemaking. However the model for the picture was not Jane Morris but a model, Alexa Wilding. The angel heads at the top were painted from Jane’s ten-year-old daughter. "The Garland" (La Ghirlandata) is one of several paintings of women playing musical instruments which Rossetti painted between 1871 and 1874. His intense use of color creates a brooding, melancholy mood, while the picture’s symbolism may reflect his emotional condition at this time.
August Wilhelm (later: von) Schlegel (September 8, 1767 – May 12, 1845) was a German poet, translator, critic, and a foremost leader of German Romanticism. His translations of Shakespeare made the English dramatist's works into German classics.
Schlegel was born in Hanover, where his father, Johann Adolf Schlegel, was a Lutheran pastor. He was educated at the Hanover gymnasium and at the University of Göttingen. At the University of Göttingen, he received a thorough philological training under Heyne and became an admirer and friend of Bürger, with whom he was engaged in an ardent study of Dante, Petrarch and Shakespeare. From 1791 to 1795, Schlegel was tutor in a Dutch banker's family at Amsterdam.
In 1796, soon after his return to Germany, Schlegel settled in Jena, following an invitation of Schiller. That year he married Karoline, the widow of the physician Böhmer. She assisted Schlegel in some of his literary productions, and the publication of her correspondence in 1871 established for her a posthumous reputation as a German letter writer. She separated from Schlegel in 1801 and became the wife of the philosopher Schelling soon after.
In Jena, Schlegel made critical contributions to Schiller's Horen, to that author's Musenalmanach, and to the Jenaer Allgemeine Litteratur-Zeitung. He also did translations from Dante and Shakespeare. This work established his literary reputation and gained for him in 1798 an extraordinary professorship at the University of Jena. His house became the intellectual headquarters of the “romanticists,” and was visited at various times between 1796 to 1801 by Fichte, Friedrich Schlegel, Schelling, Tieck, Novalis and others.
With his brother Friedrich, Schlegel founded Athenaeum (1798–1800), the organ of the Romantic school, in which he dissected disapprovingly the immensely popular works of the sentimental novelist August Lafontaine.[4] He also published a volume of poems, and carried on a rather bitter controversy with Kotzebue. At this time the two brothers were remarkable for the vigour and freshness of their ideas, and commanded respect as the leaders of the new Romantic criticism. A volume of their joint essays appeared in 1801 under the title Charakteristiken und Kritiken.
In 1802 Schlegel went to Berlin, where he delivered lectures on art and literature; and in the following year he published Ion, a tragedy in Euripidean style, which gave rise to a suggestive discussion on the principles of dramatic poetry. This was followed by Spanisches Theater (2 vols, 1803/1809), in which he presented admirable translations of five of Calderon's plays; and in another volume, Blumensträusse italienischer, spanischer und portugiesischer Poesie (1804), he gave translations of Spanish, Portuguese and Italian lyrics; his translations included works by Dante and Camoens.
Schlegel's translation of Shakespeare, begun in Jena, was ultimately completed, under the superintendence of Ludwig Tieck, by Tieck's daughter Dorothea and Wolf Heinrich Graf von Baudissin. This rendering is considered one of the best poetical translations in German, or indeed in any language Schlegel's sister-in-law (his brother Friedrich's wife) was an aunt of composer Felix Mendelssohn.[5] In 1826, Mendelssohn, at the age of 17, was inspired by August Wilhelm's translation of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream to write his concert overture for A Midsummer Night's Dream.
After divorcing his wife Karoline, in 1804, Schlegel traveled in France, Germany, Italy and other countries with Madame de Staël, as tutor to her sons and adviser in her literary work. She owed to him many of the ideas which she embodied in her work, De l'Allemagne. In 1807 he attracted much attention in France by an essay in the French language, Comparaison entre la Phèdre de Racine et celle d'Euripide, in which he attacked French classicism from the standpoint of the Romantic school. His lectures on dramatic art and literature (Über dramatische Kunst und Literatur, 1809–1811), which have been translated into most European languages, were delivered at Vienna in 1808.
From 1813 to 1817, he acted as secretary of the crown prince of Sweden, through whose influence the right of his family to noble rank was revived. After this, he joined again the household of Mme. de Staël until her death in 1817. Schlegel was made a professor of literature at the University of Bonn in 1818, and during the remainder of his life occupied himself chiefly with oriental studies. He founded a special printing office for Sanskrit. As an orientalist, he was unable to adapt himself to the new methods opened by Bopp.
He continued to lecture on art and literature, in 1827 published On the Theory and History of the Plastic Arts, and in 1828 issued two volumes of critical writings (Kritische Schriften). In 1823-1830 he published the journal Indische Bibliothek and edited (1823) the Bhagavad Gita with a Latin translation, and (1829) the Ramayana. This was followed by his 1832 work Reflections on the Study of the Asiatic Languages.
After the death of Madame de Staël, Schlegel married (1818) a daughter of Professor Paulus of Heidelberg, but this union was dissolved in 1821.
In 1835, Schlegel became head of the committee organising a monument to Ludwig van Beethoven in Bonn. He died in Bonn in 1845,[2] three months before the official unveiling of the Beethoven Monument.
3618 Wolff5 August Wilhelm von Schlegel Stahlstuck v. Carl Mayer in Nürnberg Paul Busch Eigenthum von Chr.E. Kollmann Property of Chr. E. Kollmann Leipzig Conversations-Lexicon Dr. Oscar Ludwig Bernhard Wolff
Illustration made by Carmen Burguess for "Migration", amazing terror short history by Mathias Enard. Published and printed by Quimera magazine Digital painting, 2009.
www.flickr.com/photos/burguess/
Énard, as you may already know, is the author of Zone, a critically acclaimed, award-winning 517-page one-sentence novel that we’ll be bringing out next year. Well, in the meantime, superstar translator—and recent NEA translation fellowship recipient—Charlotte Mandell translated “Migration,” the story that appeared in Le Monde and which you’ll find below. Enjoy!
"Migration" by Mathias Énard
This story comes from the Jebel al-Arab, the black volcanic mountain that stretches, in southern Syria, between the towns of Shahba and Salkhad. A mysterious, wild massif, dotted with ancient ruins and inhabited by the Druze, who in years gone by have been described as just as mysterious and wild as their rocky hills. In the winter, snow is frequent, and villages in the center of the region can be isolated for days on end. Electricity is uncommon there and telephones usually absent. This afternoon, around five o’clock, when the engineer Mohsen climbs into his Toyota pickup to go back to town, it is already pitch black out. Snowdrifts outline white piles against the low houses and walls; the basalt horizon makes the darkness even more opaque. The leafless apple orchards look alive, like fields of hanged men in the glow of the headlights.
The engineer Mohsen has as his only company a thermos of tea, a cassette of Amr Diab songs on his car radio, and the shrill cries of jackals. The engineer Mohsen is not afraid. The engineer Mohsen knows this country well, he comes here often to check or repair the capricious little generator that supplies the region with electricity. He knows the crisp smell of snow mixed with the odor of fuel oil spreading from aluminum chimneys and he is well acquainted with the silence, the immense silence of this car-less region that the constant yelps of the jackals only deepen. The engineer Mohsen knows that it will take almost an hour to cover the forty kilometers that separate him from town, following the narrow, poorly plowed roads where paving is infrequent. The engineer Mohsen knows that he will not meet a single car, apart maybe from a motorcycle or a delivery vehicle jolting along driven by a mustachioed man wrapped in a red keffieh. The engineer Mohsen takes his time. He waits patiently for the engine (and in consequence the car’s interior) to warm up, drinking a glass of tea. A freezing wind has started to blow. It will be better lower down. The engineer Mohsen shifts into first and begins his descent.
It’s as he is leaving the second village that he glimpses her. The girl (how old could she be? Twelve, who knows?) seems to be signaling to him, standing on the side of the road, in a coat the color of dirty snow. The engineer Mohsen is surprised. He stops and opens the passenger door. The girl leaps into the doorway and settles on the seat, trembling. She has a pretty face. She asks in a somewhat timid voice if the engineer Mohsen would have the kindness to drive her to the next village. The engineer Mohsen is a man from town, he replies yes, of course, without asking any questions, and starts up again. What could a child possibly be doing, out alone at this hour in such cold? True, it is winter, it’s still early. But it’s dark out and freezing. Still. The little girl remains silent, she seems to be scrutinizing the darkness, hypnotized by the light of the headlights. She is absolutely motionless, one hand resting flat on her thigh.
The engineer Mohsen turns up the music. In the half-light of the car, he has the impression that the beautiful profile of his passenger is glowing with a bluish light that seems to be oozing from her temple, streaming down her cheek, onto her neck. As if she were sweating. Or melting. The engineer Mohsen glances at the little hand calmly resting on her jeans. Despite the darkness, he thinks he can see drops pearling up on the surface of the white skin, sliding down her pants onto the seat.
The engineer Mohsen accelerates. The engineer Mohsen lowers the heat and opens the window a crack, without really knowing why; he looks straight in front of him at the road and the last curves separating him from the village where she (he doesn’t know what to call her) will get out. The wind stings his eyes, unless it’s emotion and fear; the tape has stopped and he can hear clearly, now, the regular plop plop plop of little drops on the floor resounding like a big clock despite the noise of the engine. He attacks a bend a little too quickly and is forced to cling to the steering wheel with all his strength so the Toyota doesn’t hit a low wall. The girl hasn’t budged an inch; the centrifugal force and the braking have just flung a little of that weird sweat onto the engineer Mohsen who is overwhelmed with a shudder of terror and almost cries out in surprise upon discovering that this liquid is icy, as icy as the expression on the face of his cold passenger and the heap of snow into which, after having skidded for several yards, the pickup has gotten embedded. The child has remained impassive; all that has happened is that a few drops of water (the engineer Mohsen is convinced now that it is water) have splattered the windshield. The engine has stalled. The first houses of the village are nearby. The child opens the door. She thanks the engineer Mohsen for dropping her off and gets out. The engineer Mohsen notices the moist halo that the girl has left on her seat and, perhaps because he is an electrician and because electricity has trouble admitting the existence of ghosts, or perhaps on the contrary because he is a Druze and hence used to strange phenomena, the engineer Mohsen shouts “Wait!”, leans quickly over the gearbox and manages at the last minute to grab his passenger’s left hand; he feels intense cold between his fingers, a wet cold, then, without a crack, as the girl is already disappearing into the night, he finds he is holding a child’s arm, a useless arm of ice that he drops onto the seat. Without knowing how, he gets out of the car and plops down in the snow. The engineer Mohsen’s scream sounds like the panic-stricken shrieking of a jackal.
When the engineer Mohsen has pulled himself together and returned to his truck, the arm has disappeared. Either it has melted, or it never existed. Only the wetness of the cloth tends to make the engineer Mohsen incline to the first explanation.
All around, the village is silent, the chimneys gently spewing the thick smoke of oil-fired stoves.
The next morning, after a night spent trying to find sleep, stupefying himself with arak, the engineer Mohsen is on the whole relieved to learn from the newspaper that a twelve-year-old child died at around five o’clock in the village of X, from pneumonia. On the other hand, he’s terrified by the next news item, which reveals that at the same instant, or almost, a little girl was born a few kilometers lower down: this birth would no doubt not have attracted the attention of either the journalists or the engineer Mohsen if the baby, a rare thing, hadn’t been born with only one arm.
Post taked from www.rochester.edu/College/translation/threepercent/
EPS 37601 & 37603 at Clapham Junction with the Eurostar translator wagons. On-hand should a Eurostar require rescuing.
“An Essay on Criticism,” by Alexander Pope.
Introduction
Alexander Pope, a translator, poet, wit, amateur landscape gardener, and satirist, was born in London in 1688. He contracted tuberculosis of the bone when he was young, which disfigured his spine and purportedly only allowed him to grow to 4 feet, 6 inches. Pope grew up on his father’s property at Binfield in Windsor Forest, where he read avidly and gained an appreciation for the natural world. Though he remained in ill health throughout his life, he was able to support himself as a translator and writer. As a Catholic at that time in Britain, he was ineligible for patronage, public office, or a position at a university.
A sharp-penned satirist of public figures and their behavior, Pope had his supporters and detractors. He was friends with Jonathan Swift, Dr. John Arbuthnot, and John Gay. Pope’s poems include the “Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot” and the mock epic “The Rape of the Lock.” To read his work is to be exposed to the order and wit of the 18th century poetry that preceded the Romantic poets. Pope primarily used the heroic couplet, and his lines are immensely quotable; from “An Essay on Criticism” come famous phrases such as “To err is human; to forgive, divine,” “A little learning is a dang’rous thing,” and “For fools rush in where angels fear to tread.”
After 1718 Pope lived on his five-acre property at Twickenham by the Thames. He cultivated a much-visited garden that contained a grotto, and featured the formal characteristics of a French garden and the newer more natural “English” landscape style.
Pope wrote “An Essay on Criticism” when he was 23; he was influenced by Quintillian, Aristotle, Horace’s Ars Poetica, and Nicolas Boileau’s L’Art Poëtique. Written in heroic couplets, the tone is straight-forward and conversational. It is a discussion of what good critics should do; however, in reading it one gleans much wisdom on the qualities poets should strive for in their own work. In Part I of “An Essay on Criticism,” Pope notes the lack of “true taste” in critics, stating: “’Tis with our judgments as our watches, none / Go just alike, yet each believes his own.” Pope advocates knowing one’s own artistic limits: “Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet, / And mark that point where sense and dullness meet.” He stresses the order in nature and the value of the work of the “Ancients” of Greece, but also states that not all good work can be explained by rules: “Some beauties yet, no precepts can declare, / For there’s a happiness as well as care.”
In Part II, Pope lists the mistakes that critics make, as well as the defects in poems that some critics short-sightedly praise. He advocates looking at a whole piece of work, instead of being swayed by some of its showier or faulty parts: “As men of breeding, sometimes men of wit, / T’ avoid great errors, must the less commit.” He advises against too much ornamentation in writing, and against fancy style that communicates little of merit. In his description of versification, his lines enact the effects of clumsy writing: “And ten low words oft creep in one dull line,” and “A needless Alexandrine ends the song, / That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.” In Part III, Pope discusses what critics should do, holding up the “Ancients” as models, including Aristotle (the “Stagirite”) who was respected by the lawless poets: “Poets, a race long unconfin’d and free, / Still fond and proud of savage liberty, / Receiv’d his laws; and stood convinc’d ‘twas fit, / Who conquer’d nature, should preside o’er wit.”
The Translator was also know as the Teenslator for his uncanny ability to influence Teens spending habits. , lomics.co/l/KVxfCbwmtk
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Arlington owned Ex class 508 translator vehicle 64707 set T7. Named 'Labezerin' Previously named 'Sir David Rowlands' sits at Tonbridge Yard awaiting its next turn with 64664 'Liwet' (Previously named 'James D Rowlands')
Pony Brown's Visit to Hong Kong
We had a great time with Pony Brown's president, illustrator and the translator when they visited our Korean Stationery fair and met their fans in Hong Kong. I was particularly happy to be able to chat with as many fans as possible, they all love the postive messages and cuteness of the main character. One of the fan was upsetted by something this very morning, but when she found out Pony Brown's presence and came, she felt way better. That's why we love to bring positive energy and pleasure through these events.
Contrary to many's perception, the person behind this cute character is a tall handsome hard-bodied guy Mr. Oh. You can pretty much see the similarity of him and the character, cool from the outside, bright and positive but sometimes shy within. We were expecting him to just give out signatures on postcards but for each of the fans whom came, he drew something special and worked very hard in details to make every stroke counts. I believe fans were not disappointed, at all!
After the event today, we've brought the Pony Brown team to a seafood restaurant in Lei Yue Mun (鯉魚門) tonight and enjoyed a great time chit chatting. What a lovely evening, nice weather too.
Last year when I visited Seoul, I found out their project with a Korean music instrument brand called Countess. Upon Countess' request they made these lovely Ukulele prototypes! They are finally available in music instrument stores in Korea now. Excited about this cross over with music, Mr. Oh brought along 2 Ukulele so that we can gift them to Pony Brown fans through a small competition.
So far, Pony Brown is the most successful Korean brand we've brought to Hong Kong, I hope in the future we will have a lot more collaborations and bring more happiness, no matter how tiny, to many.
Realizing the hard work Mr. Oh and the team went through.... you know what, for the past few weeks they've only slept for 2 hours every single day, working hard on projects, so we admire a lot of the Korean speed and dedication really..... last night I decided to make personal gift to them, leather jackets for Cricket lighters, embossed with "PONY BROWN" and "city'super stationery" on them. Took me hours to design and made, until 4am, but I'm happy that it was a perfect gift for them. Looking forward to more PONY BROWN stuffs!
More on Scription blog: scription.typepad.com/blog/2012/04/pony-browns-visit-to-h...
I bought minifigure of Ursula in case of making custom minifigures for "Once Upon a Time" TV series (which I hope I'll made some day), but since it will not be in the near future, I decided to do something else. So I take a picture with real water using the tutorial by my friend VerSen but I added some trick to speed up the Brownian motion to create "magic" effect. ;)
The title inspired by Google Translate Sings / Translator Fails video of "Poor Unfortunate Souls" by wonderful YouTuber Malinda Kathleen Reese. In this video original lines "poor unfortunate souls" were translated as "the spirit of abysmal despair", so hilarity ensues, since this line is really matches Ursula's character.
Close up of the front page face.
Igor Sergeyevich Gouzenko (Russian: Игорь Сергеевич Гузенко [ˈiɡərʲ sʲɪrˈɡʲejɪvʲɪdʑ ɡʊˈzʲenkə]; January 26, 1919 – June 25, 1982) was a cipher clerk for the Soviet embassy to Canada in Ottawa, Ontario, and a lieutenant of the GRU (Main Intelligence Directorate). He defected on September 5, 1945, three days after the end of World War II, with 109 documents on the USSR's espionage activities in the West. This forced Canada's Prime Minister Mackenzie King to call a Royal Commission to investigate espionage in Canada.
Gouzenko exposed Soviet intelligence's efforts to steal nuclear secrets as well as the technique of planting sleeper agents. The "Gouzenko Affair" is often credited as a triggering event of the Cold War, with historian Jack Granatstein stating it was "the beginning of the Cold War for public opinion" and journalist Robert Fulford writing he was "absolutely certain the Cold War began in Ottawa" Granville Hicks described Gouzenko's actions as having "awakened the people of North America to the magnitude and the danger of Soviet espionage".
Gouzenko and his family were given another identity by the Canadian government out of fear of Soviet reprisals. Gouzenko, as assigned by the Canadian government, lived the rest of his life under the assumed name of George Brown.Little is known about his life afterwards, but it is understood that he and his wife settled down to a middle-class existence in the Mississauga suburb of Port Credit. They raised eight children together. His children thought the language their parents spoke at home was Czech and supported Czechoslovakia in hockey games. They eventually learned the truth about their family's history from their parents at the age of 16-18. He was, however, involved in a defamation case against Maclean's for a libelous article written about him. The case was eventually heard by the Supreme Court of Canada.
Gouzenko remained in the public eye, writing two books, This Was My Choice, a non-fiction account of his defection, and the novel The Fall of a Titan, which won a Governor General's Award in 1954. In 1955 professor Eugene Hudson Long and writer Gerald Warner Brace nominated the novel for the Nobel Prize in Literature. Gouzenko also painted and sold paintings.Gouzenko also appeared on television to promote his books and air grievances with the RCMP, always with a hood over his head.
Railway vehicles come to Eastleigh for many reasons. Some come for refurbishment and others will never leave. Some assist others in their journey whatever the reason for it. Translator Coaches are used for movements of stock incompatible with the assigned locomotive usually because of the coupling system. In this view, QSA Translator Coach T2/ADB975875, converted from Mk 1 stock, is seen with withdrawn Underground C stock car 5514 which most likely arrived by road for scrapping.
200_P1000172
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Sacajawea was a Lemhi Shoshone woman known for accompanying the Lewis and Clark Expedition as a translator/guide/explorer.
Not much is known about Sacajawea's childhood besides being a part of the Lemhi in what is now Idaho. In 1800 at approximately age 12 she was kidnapped by Hidatsa and brought to a Hidatsa settlement in North Dakota, where she was "married" to Quebecois trapper Toussaint Charbonneau, who was already married to Otter Woman. By the time the Lewis and Clark Expedition arrived at the village in the winter of 1804, Sacajawea was pregnant. After building Fort Mandan, Lewis and Clark had ended their relationship with their translator Larocque, who they did not get along with, and hired Charbonneau instead. While Charbonneau could speak French and Hidatsa, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark were far more interested in Charbonneau's wives, who could speak Shoshone and Hidatsa. Charbonneau was hired on November 4, and soon joined the expedition with his wives in Fort Mandan. On Funerary 11, 1805, Sacajawea, nicknamed "Jenny" by William Clark, gave birth to Jean Baptiste Charbonneau, nicknamed "Pompey" by William Clark. The expedition continued up the Missouri River that April.
While Charbonneau quickly showed himself to be a fickle and mixed explorer, once nearly capsizing his pirogue, another time quitting the expedition only to rejoin a few days later, Sacajawea quickly proved herself to be a capable explorer. On May 14, 1805 she rescued the journals and records of Lewis and Clark (from her husband's capsizing boat). In appreciation Lewis and Clark named the Sacagawea River in her honor.
Sacagawea's most famous story was in August 1805, when she finally returned to Shoshone lands. Lewis and Clark encountered a tribe and attempting to trade with them for horses to cross the Rocky Mountains. Sacagawea was utilized as a translator, whereupon after a quick conversation with the tribal chief she found that she was talking to her brother, Cameahwait. Lewis recorded a joyous celebration:
"... The meeting of those people was really affecting, particularly between Sah cah-gar-we-ah and an Indian woman, who had been taken prisoner at the same time with her, and who had afterwards escaped from the Minnetares and rejoined her nation."
Cameahwait agreed to barter horses, and provided guides that were instrumental in the expedition getting through the difficult Bitterroot Ranges and eventually find the Columbia.
Lewis and Clark's relationship with Sacagawea was interesting. They certainly respected her, and sharply reprimanded Charbonneau when he proved abusive to her. Another incident though showed that the relationship was not quite of equals. On the Columbia the expedition encountered a Native wearing a lavish otter fur coat. After offering varying objects, Sacagawea gave up her blue-bead belt for it after the Captains agreed to give her a coat of blue cloth in exchange.
Finally reaching the Pacific Ocean in late 1805, the Lewis and Clark Expedition finally reached an impasse; no ships were waiting to take them back to the East. What to do next was put to a vote among the entire Corps of Discovery; the vote went to explore the Southern bank and if, unable to find a good location, retreat up to Celilo Falls. The vote of Clark's slave York was counted and recorded, as was Sacagawea's. It would be the first vote held in the Pacific Northwest, the first time that a black slave had voted, and the first time that a woman had voted in American history. While Fort Clatsop was being built, William Clark led a small party to what is now Cannon Beach after hearing about a beached whale washing ashore. Among the party was Sacagawea, who had insisted on her right to see the "monstrous fish." On the return trip over the Rockies, Sacagawea's knowledge of the area proved valuable, directing William Clark's group over Gibbon's Pass and along the Yellowstone River to Bozeman's Pass. Sacagawea, Charbonneau and Pompey returned to Mandan in 1806.
While Sacagawea was never really a "guide" for the Lewis and Clark Expedition outside of leading William Clark's divided party through Shoshone and Nez Pearce lands, and she had served as a translator only through the Rocky Mountains, Clark noted that probably her most valuable function in the Lewis and Clark Expedition was her presence, carrying a baby on her back, which served to the demonstrate the peaceful intent of the expedition. While the Corps of Discovery was for all intents and purposes a military scouting expedition, no matter how powerful it was the force would be surrounded and swamped by the large, powerful tribes that they encountered, Lakota, Nez Pearce, Shoshone, Chinook and Blackfeet. Clark would write: "The Indian woman confirmed those people of our friendly intentions, as no woman ever accompanies a war party of Indians in this quarter."
After the end of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, Clark wrote to Charbonneau, inviting him to take Sacagawea and their son down to St. Louis, Missouri, where Clark had become governor. Around 1810 Charbonneau took the offer, and him and Sacagawea moved, enrolling Jean Baptiste in school under Clark's patronage. Sacagawea is believed to have given birth to a baby girl named Lizette. It is believed that Sacagawea died of typhus around 1812.
An interesting legend however arose. In 1925 Dr. Charles Eastman went looking for her remains and came across a story of a Shoshone woman named Porivo who lived among the Comanches, fluent in many languages and who spoke of a long journey where she helped white men and carried a silver Jefferson peace medal. Eventually, Porvio made her way back to her people, the Lemhi Shoshone at the Wind River Indian Reservation, where she died in 1884. Eastman found the gravesite and a monument to "Sacajawea of the Shoshonis" was erected in 1964. However outside of this oral history, no further evidence of Sacagawea is known.
This statue to Sacajawea and Jean-Baptiste was created in 1905 by Alice Cooper for the Committee of Portland Women, for "the only woman in the Lewis and Clark Expedition and in honor of the pioneer mother of old Oregon".
Washington Park, Portland, Oregon
Samuil Yakovlevich Marshak was a Soviet writer of Belarusian Jewish origin, translator and poet who wrote for both children and adults. He translated the sonnets and some other of the works of William Shakespeare, English poetry (including poems for children), and poetry from other languages. Maxim Gorky proclaimed Marshak to be "the founder of Russia's (Soviet) children's literature".
Early years
Marshak was born to a Jewish family on 3 November 1887 in Voronezh.[1] His father was a foreman at a soap-making plant.[1] He had a good home education and later studied at the gymnasium (secondary school) of Ostrogozhsk, a suburb of Voronezh. He started to write poetry during his childhood years in Voronezh.
Marshak grew up with 2 brothers and 3 sisters. His older brother- Moisey (1885—1944) became an economist. His older sister- Susanna (1889—1985) became Schwartz after marriage. His younger brother - Ilya (who wrote under the pseudonym M. Ilin) (1896—1953) became a chemical engineer and a popular science writer. His younger sister Liliya (who wrote as Elena Ilina) (1901—1964) also became Soviet author. Finally, his youngest sister- Yudif' (1893—?) was pianist and a memoire writer.
In 1902, the Marshak family moved to Saint Petersburg. There was a complication: as a Jew, Marshak could not legally live outside the Pale of Settlement, thus he could not attend school while living in the city. Philanthropist and scholar Baron David Günzburg took an interest in Marshak and introduced him to the influential critic Vladimir Stasov. Stasov was so impressed by the schoolboy's literary talent that he arranged an exception from the Pale laws for Samuil and his family. He also introduced Marshak to Maxim Gorky and Feodor Chaliapin.
In 1904, Samuil was diagnosed with tuberculosis and could no longer continue to live in the cold climate of Saint Petersburg. Maxim Gorky arranged for Samuil to live with his family in the Black Sea resort town of Yalta in Crimea (1904–1907). Gorky and Chaliapin also paid for his education and therapy. However, he spent much of this period in Kerch also in Crimea, living with the Fremerman family.
Young poet, philosopher and translator
In 1904, he published his first works in the magazine Jewish Life and in the mid- to late 1900s, Marshak created a body of Zionist verse, some of which appeared in such periodicals as Young Judea. In 1907 he returned to Saint Petersburg and subsequently published numerous works in the popular magazine Satyricon.
Marshak failed to gain admission at a university in Russia due to 'political insecurity' and earned his living giving lessons and writing for magazines. From his first trip to the Middle East he brought back many impressions, poems and a beautiful wife.
In 1912 he moved to England and studied philosophy at the University of London. He fell in love with English culture and with poetry written in English. In his senior year at the University he published his translations of the poems written by William Blake, Robert Burns and William Wordsworth, published in Russia. His 1913 visit to an experimental "free" school in Wales (led by the Tolstoyan Philip Oyler) is noted as the event that sparked his professional interest in children.
Shortly before World War I, in 1914, he returned to Russia and devoted himself to translation.
Children's poetry
In 1914 Marshak and his wife worked with children of Jewish refugees in Voronezh. The death of Marshak's young daughter in 1915 directed him toward children's literature.[1] In 1920 he moved to Yekaterinodar (now Krasnodar) to head the province's orphanages and it was there that he and a group of enthusiasts, including Yelena Vasilyeva, organized Children's town that included a children's theater, library, and studios. For this theater, he co-wrote plays that later became the book Theater for Children.
In 1922, Marshak moved back to what was then Petrograd to become the head of the Children's Literature Studio. He published the following works at the Raduga (Радуга; in English, "rainbow") publishing house: Детки в клетке (Kids in a cage), Пожар (Fire) 1923, Сказка о глупом мышонке (The Tale of a Silly Mouse), Синяя птица (Blue bird), Цирк (Circus), Мороженое (Ice Cream), Вчера и сегодня» (Yesterday and today) 1925, Багаж (Luggage) 1926, Пудель (Poodle), Почта (Post Office) 1927, and Вот какой рассеянный (What an absent-minded guy) 1930.
Marshak had a prolific career in children's literature. Soviet critic Viktor Shklovsky wrote that "Samuil Marshak understood that many new writers would appear in the new Soviet republic. He stood at the door of literature, a benevolent angel, armed not with a sword or with a pencil, but with words on work and inspiration." Marshak's contributions to the field of children's literature was not just limited to his own writings. In 1924, he became the head of the children's branch of the state publishing house Gosizdat (GIZ), a position he held for over a decade. Through his role as editor, Marshak attracted some of Russia's best writers to try their hand at writing for children, including Evgeny Schwartz and OBERIU member Daniil Kharms.
Translations
Among his Russian translations there are William Shakespeare's sonnets and songs from Shakespeare's plays, The Merry Wives of Windsor (together with Mikhail Morozov, who translated prosaic scenes), poems of Robert Burns, William Blake, Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, John Keats, William Wordsworth, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, Robert Louis Stevenson, W. B. Yeats, Edward Lear, Lewis Carroll, Rudyard Kipling, T. S. Eliot, A. A. Milne, English and Scottish folk ballads, poems from Nursery rhymes. Besides English poetry, he translated poems of Heinrich Heine, Sándor Petőfi, Gianni Rodari and Hovhannes Tumanyan.
His main work in this area is translation of Shakespeare's sonnets (1948). This translation has enjoyed great success over the years. Some Shakespeare sonnets in Marshak's translation have been set to music (in classical style by Dmitry Kabalevsky, in pop style by Tikhon Khrennikov, Mikael Tariverdiev, Alla Pugacheva and others, even in rock style — Cruise). His translations are considered classics in Russia. But many of Marshak's poetic translations became so entrenched in Russian culture, that it was often quipped that he was not so much a translator as a co-author.
Later years
In 1937 Marshak moved to Moscow, where he worked on children's books and translations. Composer Galina Konstantinovna Smirnova set some of his work to music. During World War II, he published satires against the Nazis. After the war he continued to publish children's books including: Разноцветная книга (Multicolored book) 1948, Круглый год (All year round) 1948, Тихая сказка (A Quiet tale) 1956, etc.
In the last years of his life, he wrote aphoristic verses that he named lyrical epigrams. They were published in his last book, Selected Lyrics (Избранная Лирика) in 1963. He also published three tale plays: The Twelve Months 1943, Afraid of Troubles - Cannot Have Luck 1962, and Smart Things 1964.
Although not widely known, in the Soviet era, Marshak was on a (political) razor's edge and barely escaped death in 1937. His name was often mentioned in the documents of the eliminated Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee. However, the process of the committee ended in August 1952 (12 executed and 98 subjected to repression) and Marshak was not accused.
Samuil Marshak died on 4 July 1964 and was buried in Moscow in Novodevichy Cemetery. He survived by one son Immanuil Marshak (1917—1977), a physicist. His other son and daughter did survive till adulthood.
Honours and awards
Four Stalin Prizes:
second class (1942) – a poetic text to posters and cartoons
second class (1946) – for the play-tale "Twelve Months" (1943)
second class (1949) – translations of sonnets by William Shakespeare
first class (1951) – a collection of "Verses for Children"
Lenin Prize (1963) – for the book "Selected poetry for children" (1962) and children's books: "A quiet tale", "Big pocket", "The Adventure of the road", "Calm down", "From one to ten", "Vaks Blob", "Who can find a ring", "Merry journey from A to Z".
Two Orders of Lenin, incl 1939
Order of the Patriotic War, 1st class (1945)
Order of the Red Banner of Labour
Honorary president of Robert Burns World Federation (1960)
In 2012, his books were included in an exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art
Ex-Class 508 driving coaches and now translator vehicles Nos. 64664 'James D Rowlands' and 64707 'Sir David Rowlands', hauled by GB Railfreight Class 66 No. 66719 'Metro-Land', pass Bromley South working the 5Y08 Tonbridge West Yard to Eastleigh Works translator coaches movement
GB Railfreight Class 66s, 66715 "Valour" Top 'n' Tail 66723 / ZA723 "Chinook" head through Hartford with an interesting selection of translator coaches and wagons on 5F90 15:30 Leicester LIP to Tuebrook Sidings.
The freshly cleaned and polished locos were on their way to collect Stadler / Merseytravel unit 777 002 and then head to the Raillive event at Long Martson the following day. The mixture of wagons were presumably a neat way of providing brake force, but also taking "!one of each" to Long Marston for display.
The consist was:
66715
6377 (Mk1 Porterbrook barrier/translator coach)
6376 (Mk1 Porterbrook barrier/translator coach)
70 0689 0441 IIA-C (biomass hopper)
70 5500 4946 JNAT (box wagon)
70 0659 0225 IIA-F (sand hopper)
66723
Historia por:
VENERANDA MENDOZA • Toluca
v.mendoza@hoyestado.com
English translation by Google Translator fixed by me (hope so)
Raíces siempre es frío...
Es la comunidad más cercana al volcán Xinantécatl. Aquí despertar y ver el hielillo en las hojas de los árboles, las plantas o la tierra es parte de la vida diaria de sus moradores.
Entre seis y nueve cobertores por las noches durante la temporada invernal, fogones encendidos por las mañanas y tarde-noches y dos chamarras que no los vuelven inmunes a las enfermedades respiratorias, los habitantes de esa localidad sortean las bajas temperaturas.
Diez minutos antes de las ocho de la mañana, los pequeños comienzan a llegar regordetes de sueteres y bufandas a la escuela, atravesando la hojarasca de hielo que se forma sobre el pasto del campo de fútbol contiguo.
A pesar de que han solicitado a la Dirección recorrer una hora el ingreso, al menos durante la época, los padres de familia no han conseguido que las autoridades atiendan su súplica y los niños están contrayendo algunas enfermedades respiratorias.
“Que entraran a las nueve está bien, en lo que sale el sol, calienta y se descongela el hielo, porque nos levantamos a las seis y hace mucho frío”, indicó el señor Alfredo Carbajal, quien tiene tres hijos: dos en la primaria y uno en la secundaria.
“Dos días mi hijo no vino a la escuela porque se enfermó, apenas hoy se está reintegrando”, expuso, tras referir que a partir de las 14:00 horas ya no hay médico que atienda en el Centro de Salud de Loma Alta, ejido al que pertenece la comunidad.
Además, alertó, el frío apenas está comenzando, pues enero y febrero, se caracterizan por menores temperaturas.
En tanto, don Eduardo de la Cruz expuso que cuando alguien se enferma o se tiene una emergencia después de las 14:00 horas, es necesario ir al médico a Toluca o Zinacantepec, lo que los obliga a gastar más dinero e invertir más tiempo.
“En la tarde es cuando se requiere más del doctor, porque en la mañana hay que trabajar o llevar a los niños a la escuela”, justificó, tras considerar que es necesario un médico las 24 horas del día, al menos en época de frío,y dotar al Centro de Salud con medicamentos suficientes para afrontar las enfermedades respiratorias.
“El lunes fue una de mis sobrinas con sus niños y no había medicinas, hay que comprarlas, no tiene caso, mejor vamos a un particular”, lamentó.
Don Eduardo indicó que los habitantes de Raíces han aprendido a construir sus propios fogones con chimenea; durante el día recopilan leña, no usan carbón ni gas para evitar intoxicaciones, y a la hora de dormir los apagan.
Cuando no hace frío, se cubren en promedio con cinco cobertores para dormir, pero en época invernal son cuatro más.
“Cuando no hace frío, uno anda nomás con una playera y un sueter, pero ahorita nos ponemos dos playeras, una sudadera y una chamarra; un pants abajo y un pantalón, y doble calcetín para no sentir tanto el frío”, relató.
En tanto, Ramón Ramírez, quien se queda en el Parque de los Venados, a las faldas del volcán, contó que duerme con dos chamarras y el fogón dispuesto al lado de su cama, aunque se apaga por las noches, permanece encendido desde que se despierta hasta las 18:00 horas, cuando la temperatura comienza a regresar los gases tóxicos a la habitación, a pesar de la chimenea.
_____________________________________________________
Raíces (roots) is always cold ...
It's the nearest volcano Xinantécatl community. Here wake up and see the ice on the leaves of trees, plants or land is part of the daily life of its inhabitants.
Between six and nine blankets at night during the winter season, stove lit in the morning and late-nights and two jackets that do not become immune to respiratory diseases, the inhabitants of that town circumvent low temperatures.
Ten minutes before eight o'clock, small childrens start arriving plumps in sweaters and scarves to school, crossing litter of ice that forms on the grass adjacent football field.
Although they have asked the Directorate move one hour the entry, at least for the time, parents have failed to address their supplication authorities and children are contracting some respiratory diseases.
"If they entered at nine ...that would be fine, as the sun rises, heat and ice thaws, because we got up at six and it is very cold," said Mr. Alfredo Carbajal, who has three children, two in elementary and one in high school.
"Two days my son didn't came to school the because he got sick, just now being reintegrated" he explained, after mentioning that from 14:00 no longer attending physician at the Health Center Loma Alta, place that belongs to the community.
In addition, he warned, the cold is just beginning, for January and February are characterized by lower temperatures.
Meanwhile, Don Eduardo de la Cruz explained that when someone gets sick or have an emergency after 14:00, you need to go to the doctor to Toluca and Zinacantepec, forcing them to spend more money and more time.
"In the afternoon is when it requires more of the doctor, because in the morning you have to work or take the kids to school," he argued, after considering that we need a doctor 24 hours a day, at least in cold weather and equip the health center with enough medication to address respiratory diseases.
"Monday was one of my nieces with their children and there was no medicine, we must buy them, it's a pitty, we better went to the privet doctor" he lamented.
Don Eduardo indicated that the inhabitants of Raíces have learned to build their own stoves with fireplace; daytime collect firewood, they do not use charcoal or gas to prevent poisoning, and they turn it off at bedtime.
When it's not cold are covered on average with five blankets to sleep, but during winter are four more.
"When it's not cold, a man walks "Nomás" (just) with a shirt and a sweater, but right now we put two shirts on, a sweatshirt and a jacket; bottom a sport pants and trousers, and double sock for not feeling so cold, "he said.
Meanwhile, Ramon Ramirez, who stays in the National Park "de los venados", in the foothills of the volcano, was sleeping with two jackets and fire arranged beside his bed, although it off at night is lit since awake until 18:00, when the temperature begins to return the toxic gases into the room, despite the fireplace.
Through our guide who served as translator, we learned that this kind woman is 87 years old. She seemed a little sad when she told us that she was once young and beautiful. I thought there was a special character in her face, and that she is beautiful still.
55022 propels the two translator vans into one of the sidings at Yoker CSD to couple up to two of the brake force runners
The Necklace
by Guy de Maupassant
(1850-1893)
Translators: Albert M.C. McMaster, A.E. Henderson, Mme. Quesada, & others.
The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction.
She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really fallen from a higher station; since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace and charm take the place of family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the people the equals of the very greatest ladies.
Mathilde suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. She was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs, the ugliness of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. The sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her despairing regrets and bewildering dreams. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illumined by tall bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs, made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of long reception halls hung with ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men famous and sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention they all desire.
When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days, opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, "Ah, the good soup! I don't know anything better than that," she thought of dainty dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike smile while you are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail.
She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She felt made for that. She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, to be charming, to be sought after.
She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like to go to see any more because she felt so sad when she came home.
But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope in his hand.
There said he,there is something for you!
She tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these words:
The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honor of M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th.
Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation on the table crossly, muttering:
What do you wish me to do with that?"
Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and this is such a fine opportunity. I had great trouble to get it. Every one wants to go; it is very select, and they are not giving many invitations to clerks. The whole official world will be there."
She looked at him with an irritated glance and said impatiently:
And what do you wish me to put on my back?"
He had not thought of that. He stammered:
Why, the gown you go to the theatre in. It looks very well to me."
He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. Two great tears ran slowly from the corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth.
;What's the matter? What's the matter? he answered.
By a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, while she wiped her wet cheeks:
Nothing. Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this ball. Give your card to some colleague whose wife is better equipped than I am.
He was in despair. He resumed:
Come, let us see, Mathilde. How much would it cost, a suitable gown, which you could use on other occasions--something very simple?
She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also what sum she could ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk.
Finally she replied hesitating:
I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four hundred francs."
He grew a little pale, because he was laying aside just that amount to buy a gun and treat himself to a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot larks there of a Sunday.
But he said
Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have a pretty gown.
The day of the ball drew near and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, anxious. Her frock was ready, however. Her husband said to her one evening:
What is the matter? Come, you have seemed very queer these last three days.
And she answered:
It annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry, not a single ornament, nothing to put on. I shall look poverty-stricken. I would almost rather not go at all.
You might wear natural flowers,said her husband. They're very stylish at this time of year. For ten francs you can get two or three magnificent roses.
She was not convinced.
No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich.
How stupid you are! her husband cried. Go look up your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask her to lend you some jewels. You're intimate enough with her to do that.
She uttered a cry of joy:
True! I never thought of it.
The next day she went to her friend and told her of her distress.
Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel box, brought it back, opened it and said to Madame Loisel:
;Choose, my dear.
She saw first some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian gold cross set with precious stones, of admirable workmanship. She tried on the ornaments before the mirror, hesitated and could not make up her mind to part with them, to give them back. She kept asking:
Haven't you any more?
Why, yes. Look further; I don't know what you like.
Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb diamond necklace, and her heart throbbed with an immoderate desire. Her hands trembled as she took it. She fastened it round her throat, outside her high-necked waist, and was lost in ecstasy at her reflection in the mirror.
Then she asked, hesitating, filled with anxious doubt:
Will you lend me this, only this?
;Why, yes, certainly.
She threw her arms round her friend's neck, kissed her passionately, then fled with her treasure.
The night of the ball arrived. Madame Loisel was a great success. She was prettier than any other woman present, elegant, graceful, smiling and wild with joy. All the men looked at her, asked her name, sought to be introduced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wished to waltz with her. She was remarked by the minister himself.
She danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting all in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this homage, admiration, these awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to woman's heart.
She left the ball about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been sleeping since midnight in a little deserted anteroom with three other gentlemen whose wives were enjoying the ball.
He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought, the modest wraps of common life, the poverty of which contrasted with the elegance of the ball dress. She felt this and wished to escape so as not to be remarked by the other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly furs.
Loisel held her back, saying: "Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will call a cab."
But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs. When they reached the street they could not find a carriage and began to look for one, shouting after the cabmen passing at a distance.
They went toward the Seine in despair, shivering with cold. At last they found on the quay one of those ancient night cabs which, as though they were ashamed to show their shabbiness during the day, are never seen round Paris until after dark.
It took them to their dwelling in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they mounted the stairs to their flat. All was ended for her. As to him, he reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock that morning.
She removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in all her glory. But suddenly she uttered a cry. She no longer had the necklace around her neck!
;What is the matter with you? demanded her husband, already half undressed.
She turned distractedly toward him.
;I have--I have--I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace, she cried.
He stood up, bewildered.
What!--how? Impossible!
They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere, but did not find it.
You're sure you had it on when you left the ball? he asked.
Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister's house.
But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab.
Yes, probably. Did you take his number?;
;No. And you--didn't you notice it?
;No.
They looked, thunderstruck, at each other. At last Loisel put on his clothes.
I shall go back on foot, said he, over the whole route, to see whether I can find it.
He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, without any fire, without a thought.
Her husband returned about seven o'clock. He had found nothing.
He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab companies--everywhere, in fact, whither he was urged by the least spark of hope.
She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity.
Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered nothing.
;You must write to your friend," said he;that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it mended. That will give us time to turn round.
She wrote at his dictation.
At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:
We must consider how to replace that ornament.;
The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was found within. He consulted his books.
;It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have furnished the case.
Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the other, trying to recall it, both sick with chagrin and grief.
They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like the one they had lost. It was worth forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six.
So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they made a bargain that he should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs, in case they should find the lost necklace before the end of February.
Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He would borrow the rest.
He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes, took up ruinous obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of lenders. He compromised all the rest of his life, risked signing a note without even knowing whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the trouble yet to come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter thirty-six thousand francs.
When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly manner:
You should have returned it sooner; I might have needed it
She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had detected the substitution, what would she have thought, what would she have said? Would she not have taken Madame Loisel for a thief?
Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part, however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changed their lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof.
She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen. She washed the dishes, using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans. She washed the soiled linen, the shirts and the dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops down to the street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at every landing. And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, meeting with impertinence, defending her miserable money, sou by sou.
Every month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time.
Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman's accounts, and late at night he often copied manuscript for five sous a page.
This life lasted ten years.
At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the rates of usury and the accumulations of the compound interest.
Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished households--strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with great swishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired.
What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who knows? How strange and changeful is life! How small a thing is needed to make or ruin us!
But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming.
Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she would tell her all about it. Why not?
She went up.
Good-day, Jeanne.
The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, did not recognize her at all and stammered:
But--madame!--I do not know---- You must have mistaken.
No. I am Mathilde Loisel.
Her friend uttered a cry.
Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed!
Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great poverty--and that because of you!
;Of me! How so?
Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball?
;Yes. Well?
;Well, I lost it.
What do you mean? You brought it back
I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten years to pay for it. You can understand that it was not easy for us, for us who had nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very glad.
Madame Forestier had stopped.
You say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine?
Yes. You never noticed it, then! They were very similar.
And she smiled with a joy that was at once proud and ingenuous.
Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her hands.
Oh, my poor Mathilde! Why, my necklace was paste! It was worth at most only five hundred francs!
###
GB Railfreight Class 66 66753 hauling former class 508 translator vehicles 64664 and 64707 from Doncaster to Eastleigh on 22nd March 2021
GBRf 66793 passes Milton industrial park near Didcot with EMUs 455809 & 816 (I think) and the T7 ex-emu translator vehicles in tow. Dithered about going for this but sun was shining ;-) 5Q55 1038 Stewarts Lane TRSMD to Newport Docks, scrap train, 17/5/22.
Christopher Marlowe (baptised 26 February 1564 – 30 May 1593) was an English dramatist, poet and translator of the Elizabethan era. The foremost Elizabethan tragedian next to William Shakespeare, he is known for his blank verse, his overreaching protagonists, and his own mysterious and untimely death.
Marlowe was born to a shoemaker in Canterbury named John Marlowe and his wife Catherine.[1] Marlowe attended The King's School, Canterbury (where a house is now named after him) and Corpus Christi College, Cambridge on a scholarship and received his Bachelor of Arts degree in 1584.[2] In 1587 the university hesitated to award him his master's degree because of a rumour that he had converted to Roman Catholicism and intended to go to the English college at Rheims to prepare for the priesthood. However, his degree was awarded on schedule when the Privy Council intervened on his behalf, commending him for his "faithful dealing" and "good service" to the Queen.[3] The nature of Marlowe's service was not specified by the Council, but its letter to the Cambridge authorities has provoked much speculation, notably the theory that Marlowe was operating as a secret agent working for Sir Francis Walsingham's intelligence service.[4] No direct evidence supports this theory, although the Council's letter is evidence that Marlowe had served the government in some capacity.
Dido, Queen of Carthage was Marlowe's first drama. Marlowe's first play performed on stage in London stage was Tamburlaine (1587) about the conqueror Timur, who rises from shepherd to warrior. It is among the first English plays in blank verse,[5] and, with Thomas Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy, generally is considered the beginning of the mature phase of the Elizabethan theatre. Tamburlaine was a success, and was followed with Tamburlaine Part II. The sequence of his plays is unknown; all deal with controversial themes.
The Jew of Malta, about a Maltese Jew's barbarous revenge against the city authorities, has a prologue delivered by a character representing Machiavelli.
Edward the Second is an English history play about the deposition of King Edward II by his barons and the Queen, who resent the undue influence the king's favourites have in court and state affairs.
The Massacre at Paris is a short and luridly written work, probably a reconstruction from memory of the original performance text,[6] portraying the events of the Saint Bartholomew's Day Massacre in 1572, which English Protestants invoked as the blackest example of Catholic treachery. It features the silent "English Agent", whom subsequent tradition has identified with Marlowe himself and his connections to the secret service.[7] Along with The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus, The Massacre at Paris is considered his most dangerous play, as agitators in London seized on its theme to advocate the murders of refugees from the low countries and, indeed, it warns Elizabeth I of this possibility in its last scene.[8][9]
The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus, based on the German Faustbuch, was the first dramatised version of the Faust legend of a scholar's dealing with the devil. While versions of "The Devil's Pact" can be traced back to the 4th century, Marlowe deviates significantly by having his hero unable to "burn his books" or repenting to a merciful God in order to have his contract annulled at the end of the play. Marlowe's protagonist is instead torn apart by demons and dragged off screaming to hell. Dr Faustus is a textual problem for scholars as it was highly edited (and possibly censored) and rewritten after Marlowe's death. Two versions of the play exist: the 1604 quarto, also known as the A text, and the 1616 quarto or B text. Many scholars believe that the A text is more representative of Marlowe's original because it contains irregular character names and idiosyncratic spelling: the hallmarks of a text that used the author's handwritten manuscript, or "foul papers", as a major source.
Marlowe's plays were enormously successful, thanks in part, no doubt, to the imposing stage presence of Edward Alleyn. He was unusually tall for the time, and the haughty roles of Tamburlaine, Faustus, and Barabas were probably written especially for him. Marlowe's plays were the foundation of the repertoire of Alleyn's company, the Admiral's Men, throughout the 1590s.
Marlowe also wrote poetry, including a, possibly, unfinished minor epic, Hero and Leander (published with a continuation by George Chapman in 1598), the popular lyric The Passionate Shepherd to His Love, and translations of Ovid's Amores and the first book of Lucan's Pharsalia.
The two parts of Tamburlaine were published in 1590; all Marlowe's other works were published posthumously. In 1599, his translation of Ovid was banned and copies publicly burned as part of Archbishop Whitgift's crackdown on offensive material.
As with other writers of the period, little is known about Marlowe. What little evidence there is can be found in legal records and other official documents. This has not stopped writers of both fiction and non-fiction from speculating about his activities and character. Marlowe has often been described as a spy, a brawler, a heretic and a homosexual, as well as a "magician," "duellist," "tobacco-user," "counterfeiter" and "rakehell." The evidence for most of these claims is slight. The bare facts of Marlowe's life have been embellished by many writers into colourful, and often fanciful, narratives of the Elizabethan underworld. However, J.B. Steane[10] remarked, "it seems absurd to dismiss all of these Elizabethan rumours and accusations as 'the Marlowe myth'"[11]
[edit] Spying
Marlowe is often alleged to have been a government spy. The author Charles Nicholls speculates this is so, and that Marlowe's recruitment took place when he was at Cambridge. Surviving college records from the period indicate Marlowe had a series of unusually lengthy absences from the university - much longer than permitted by university regulations - that began in the academic year 1584-1585. Surviving college buttery (dining room) accounts indicate he began spending lavishly on food and drink during the periods he was in attendance[12] - more than he could have afforded on his known scholarship income.
As noted above, in 1587 the Privy Council ordered Cambridge University to award Marlowe his MA, denying rumours that he intended to go to the English Catholic college in Rheims, saying instead that he had been engaged in unspecified "affaires" on "matters touching the benefit of his country". This from a document dated 29 June 1587, from the Public Records Office - Acts of Privy Council.
It has sometimes been theorised that Marlowe was the "Morley" who was tutor to Arbella Stuart in 1589.[13] This possibility was first raised in a TLS letter by E. St John Brooks in 1937; in a letter to Notes and Queries, John Baker has added that only Marlowe could be Arbella's tutor due to the absence of any other known "Morley" from the period with an MA and not otherwise occupied.[14] If Marlowe was Arbella's tutor, (and some biographers think that the "Morley" in question may have been a brother of the musician Thomas Morley[15]) it might indicate that he was a spy, since Arbella, niece of Mary Queen of Scots and cousin of James VI of Scotland, later James I of England, was at the time a strong candidate for the succession to Elizabeth's throne.[16]
In 1592 Marlowe was arrested in the Dutch town of Flushing for attempting to counterfeit coins and use the proceeds to assist seditious Catholics. He was sent to be dealt with by the Lord Treasurer (Burghley) but no charge or imprisonment resulted.[17] This untimely arrest may have disrupted another of Marlowe's spying missions: by giving the resulting coinage to the Catholic cause he was to infiltrate the followers of the active Catholic plotter William Stanley and report back to Burghley.
In early May 1593 several bills were posted about London threatening Protestant refugees from France and the Netherlands who had settled in the city. One of these, the "Dutch church libel,"[19] written in blank verse, contained allusions to several of Marlowe's plays and was signed, "Tamburlaine". On 11 May the Privy Council ordered the arrest of those responsible for the libels. The next day, Marlowe's colleague Thomas Kyd was arrested. Kyd's lodgings were searched and a fragment of a heretical tract was found. Kyd asserted, possibly under torture, that it had belonged to Marlowe. Two years earlier they had both been working for an aristocratic patron, probably Ferdinando Stanley, Lord Strange,[20] and Kyd suggested that at this time, when they were sharing a workroom, the document had found its way among his papers. Marlowe's arrest was ordered on 18 May. Marlowe was not in London, but was staying with Thomas Walsingham, the cousin of the late Sir Francis Walsingham, Elizabeth's principal secretary in the 1580s and a man deeply involved in state espionage.[21] However, he duly appeared before the Privy Council on 20 May and was instructed to "give his daily attendance on their Lordships, until he shall be licensed to the contrary". On 30 May, Marlowe was murdered.
Various versions of Marlowe's death were current at the time. Francis Meres says Marlowe was "stabbed to death by a bawdy serving-man, a rival of his in his lewd love" as punishment for his "epicurism and atheism."[22] In 1917, in the Dictionary of National Biography, Sir Sidney Lee wrote that Marlowe was killed in a drunken fight, and this is still often stated as fact today.
The facts only came to light in 1925 when the scholar Leslie Hotson discovered the coroner's report on Marlowe's death in the Public Record Office.[23] Marlowe had spent all day in a house in Deptford, owned by the widow Eleanor Bull. With him were three men: Ingram Frizer, Nicholas Skeres and Robert Poley.[24] All three had been employed by the Walsinghams. Skeres and Poley had helped snare the conspirators in the Babington plot and Frizer was a servant of Thomas Walsingham. Witnesses testified that Frizer and Marlowe had earlier argued over the bill for their drink (now famously known as the 'Reckoning') exchanging "divers malicious words". Later, while Frizer was sitting at a table between the other two and Marlowe was lying behind him on a couch, Marlowe snatched Frizer's dagger and began attacking him. In the ensuing struggle, according to the coroner's report, Marlowe was accidentally stabbed above the right eye, killing him instantly. The jury concluded that Frizer acted in self-defence, and within a month he was pardoned. Marlowe was buried in an unmarked grave in the churchyard of St. Nicholas, Deptford, on 1 June 1593.
Marlowe's death is alleged by some to be an assassination for the following reasons:
1. The three men who were in the room with him when he died were all connected both to the state secret service and to the London underworld.[25] Frizer and Skeres also had a long record as loan sharks and con-men, as shown by court records. Bull's house also had "links to the government's spy network".[26]
2. Their story that they were on a day's pleasure outing to Deptford is alleged to be implausible. In fact, they spent the whole day closeted together, deep in discussion. Also, Robert Poley was carrying confidential despatches to the Queen, who was at her palace of Nonsuch in Surrey, but instead of delivering them, he spent the day with Marlowe and the other two.[27]
3. It seems too much of a coincidence that Marlowe's death occurred only a few days after his arrest for heresy.
4. The manner of Marlowe's arrest is alleged to suggest causes more tangled than a simple charge of heresy would generally indicate. He was released in spite of prima facie evidence, and even though the charges implicitly connected Sir Walter Raleigh and the Earl of Northumberland with the heresy. Thus, some contend it to be probable that the investigation was meant primarily as a warning to the politicians in the "School of Night", or that it was connected with a power struggle within the Privy Council itself.[28]
5. The various incidents that hint at a relationship with the Privy Council (see above), and by the fact that his patron was Thomas Walsingham, Sir Francis's second cousin, who was actively involved in intelligence work.
For these reasons and others, Charles Nicholl (in his book 'The Reckoning' on Marlowe's death) argues there was more to Marlowe's death than emerged at the inquest. There are different theories of some degree of probability. Since there are only written documents on which to base any conclusions, and since it is probable that the most crucial information about his death was never committed to writing at all, it is unlikely that the full circumstances of Marlowe's death will ever be known.
A translator speaking at the Annual Meeting 2017 of the World Economic Forum in Davos, January 17, 2017
Copyright by World Economic Forum / Ciaran McCrickard
Just to show a little Emacs-Lisp script I wrote the other day. We're in the process of translating all our class material into English, and thought of getting some help from Google Translator. Selecting a phrase and calling the `insert-translation' function substitutes current text with its traduction into English. You know, Google Translate fails a fair bit, but it helps, and you don't have to write all the slides again... Related blog post: neuromancer.inf.um.es/fm/translation-within-emacs-using-g...
Don't miss this one!!! December 27th at 12pm SLT = 4 literary translators and I WILL PERSUADE YOU to pick up a book of almost pages + 300 additional pages of footnotes! TRUST US! More info www.draxtor.com/sl-book-club-coming-up/ij
Great moment when my translator in France told me what they really said!
Changchung Cathedral is the nominal cathedral of the Roman Catholic Bishop of pyongyang, North Korea, located in the Changchung neighborhood of songyo-guyok, pyongyang. It one of only four Christian Churches in North Korea, all of which are located in Pyongyang.
Before the division of Korea, Pyongyang was the city with the highest number of Christian believers in Korea, and was known as the "Korean Jerusalem". By 1945, nearly 1/6 of its citizens were Christians. Therefor, Pyongyang was made into the only diocese in northern Korea.
After the division of Korea, however, the Communist government under Kim Il-sung persecuted Christians as imperialist collaborators and spies; even the famous Christian Nationalist Cho man-sik, initially more influential than Kim, was arrested and shot. Much of the Catholic community was either killed or imprisoned, and many more fled south.
The original cathedral, built of red brick in the late 19th century, was destroyed in the Korean War by American forces. Later, in 1949, the last formal Bishop of Pyongyang, Francis Hong Ryong-ho, was imprisoned by the communist government, and lated disappeared.
In 1988 a new cathedral was opened in East Pyongyang. At the same time, two nondenominational "protestant" churches were opened in an effort by the government to show religious freedom.
© Eric Lafforgue
GB Railfreight Class 66 No. 66719 'Metro-Land' and ex-Class 508 driving coaches, translator vehicles Nos. 64707 'Sir David Rowlands' and 64664 'James D Rowlands' pass Bromley South working the 5Y08 Tonbridge West Yard to Eastleigh Works translator vehicles movement.
[Taken in Paris (France) - 19Sep09]
During three days, the biggest french tattoo convention, the Tattoo Art Fest, took place, for the third time, in the Parc Floral and gathered 7000 visitors around more than 150 world wide tattoo artists, featuring tattoo contests, burlesque shows, graffiti artists, photo exhibitions, and concerts.
See all the photos of this convention in this set : 18-20Sep09 - Tattoo Art Fest [Event]
See all the body art photos in this set : [Body Art]
See all the random portraits in this set : Portraits [Random]
This serie contains nude pictures that you can NOT see, unless you're signed in on flickr (and have your safe filter off).
Or by clicking this link :
www.flickr.com/gp/52499764@N00/5M095Y
And THEN visit this set : [NUDES - Pass]