Ccaps Blog

Interfering with the text of an author is a sensitive issue. What should be the attitude of the reviewer: preserve the original text as much as possible or be a hidden co-author? During the course of my internship, I have intuitively formed some opinions about this and can now make them clear for myself — which is a great exercise of self-evaluation.

The more objective the text, the more I interfere. I tend to make myself present with textual interferences because, like authors, I believe that we should be humble enough to acknowledge that our texts can be constantly improved — by others or by ourselves. It is a never-ending process, I am sorry.

Each revised text is a learning experience! And this has nothing to do with (in)experience; it has to do with being receptive to other writers, other styles, other minds. Reviewers somewhat put authors down. In this process, we are looking through the lens of the author to see his vision of the world and how it reflects in the writing and is incorporated in it.

Therefore, in my work I try to offer solutions that reconcile my ideology and that of the author. But this is not always possible. What is right or wrong? I do not believe in this dichotomy as an objective plan. One cannot simply say that the apple should replace the orange; one should find the roots of the tree, the history and conditions of the seeding, along with climate factors. Please do not adopt this as a formula; I do not even know how to grow apples and oranges. Before you tell me to go plant some trees, let us see what we can do together!

Reflect with me for a moment: Good use of language comes from hypothetical notions, from ideal conditions for cultivation and consumption. But it is not always rainy or sunny, as forecasted. I am not saying that we should burn our manuals. Why not recognize that wild fire, for example, is not only illegal but also harmful to the environment? Like my colleague Marilena Moraes says, we are always surrounded by Cegalla, Bechara, Aurélio, Houaiss and other philologists, grammarians and scholars. They are not only some printed references but mostly everything scholarly that is dedicated to systematize intuitive knowledge that we all have in respect to language.

We as reviewers — or eventually as translators of our own language — are precisely the language professionals licensed by our extensive linguistic experience. We are like referees at a soccer game, calling the shots on the field. People are constantly ridiculing and throwing tomatoes at us because the fans and the players are not always willing to accept our calls. They obviously also have their moments of reason: those moments when we are too strict or too lenient, when we are wrong and right. After all, in any social context judgment does exist.

As readers, we are rather objective when correcting, especially when it comes to spelling and accentuation, which for me are minor issues as they remain on the surface of the text. I recognize the importance of unifying our spelling system, but I also think that spelling and accents are utterly the final touches to any text, the make-up of the writing. Our inspiration does not come from the supreme world of ideas, but from our grammar, our intuitive and systemic knowledge of the language that we use everyday.

On behalf of the Portuguese language, please call us reviewers, and not correctors!

“Penetra surdamente no reino das palavras.” (Penetrate silently into the kingdom of words) With this verse, which is part of the poem Procura da poesia, by Carlos Drummond de Andrade, I invite you to check out the Museum of the Portuguese Language.

Inaugurated in 2006, the museum was built in downtown São Paulo, next to the charming Estação da Luz train station, which was especially restored for the museum inauguration. As a translation student, I could not fail to step foot there at least once…

My morning began precisely at the train and subway station. Such a beautiful scene! Dating back to the early years of the 20th century, the Victorian building was built after sites like the Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. Hardwood doors, crystal chandeliers, detailed plaster ceiling and iron arches make up the interior. In the middle of the entrance hall leading to the platforms, there is a simple piano, though sufficient to complement the movement of those passing by.

At 10 AM I was already in the museum! The excursion begins with a video about the origins and the evolution of Brazilian Portuguese, narrated by renowned actress Fernanda Montenegro. We are then transported to some language planetarium, on where images and audio are projected. Language here is a concrete experience, almost like a hand that touches our senses.

Poems and tongue twisters in the voices of singers Chico Buarque and Maria Bethânia and actor Matheus Nachtergaele are accentuated by colors and live forms on the celestial dome. You cannot leave the Praça da Língua (Language Plaza) without first taking a walk of fame on the floor of projected poems. Pure delight!

The elevator is in fact panoramic! A full view of the Árvore de Palavras (Word Tree) on our way to the second floor (as we were on the third floor). Not to mention the mantra composed by poet and singer Arnaldo Antunes, who repeats the words “language” and “word” in multiple languages. Much better than “Smile! You are on security camera!”

The second floor begins with the Grande Galeria (Great Gallery), a screen that extends the entire wing. Here there are projections of the Portuguese language in the daily lives and history of its users. But I am not saying that you are a mere spectator! Beco das Palavras (Alley of Words) and Mapa dos Falares (Map of Dialects) are like our own personal Maracanã. The former is like a game with a big electronic table where we place the letters to form words and learn about their meanings and origin. The latter is an electronic booth where we can touch the screen to see and listen to testimonials of Brazilian speakers throughout the country and check the local color of each speaker. Linha do Tempo (Time Line) and the totems named as Palavras Cruzadas (Crosswords) are also worth a look!

I am not going to tell you what I saw on the first floor. You have to see it for yourself. The exhibits on this floor are temporary. Once you have been there, you can tell us what you saw. The Ccaps Blog is precisely for this!

What do you think? If you want to embark on the idea of visiting the museum, just make sure to not go on Monday as it’s closed! The reasonably priced entrance fee is your passport to a great museum collection. Flying first class, of course, just like when you buy Ccaps services! =)

Seasons come and go, and textspeak (or textese) never goes out of fashion. This was the theme recently printed in Megazine, of Brazilian newspaper O Globo on July 21.

Even I, a somewhat linguistic purist, have caught myself writing “u”, “luv”, and other abbreviations. It’s no use: if in some way we are Internet users, especially MSN, Facebook, Twitter and such, we end up in the same boat. It’s a question of economy, informality, and for some, identity.

Let us think about the speed of our online conversations and the number of online contacts we have. It is only natural that traditional spelling becomes more casual, basic, and therefore new genres and textual types appear, redefining the ideas of right and wrong, as well as rebuking the naive illusion that writing is a solemn act. Highly sophisticated forms, for example, may seem pedantic and inconvenient—you might appear to be from another planet or demonstrate superiority in the virtual realm.

In this sense, it is also interesting to think that language is an instrument literally at the hand of the user. Up to now, everything I have said is old, repeated. What’s new is precisely the possibility, with the alphabet at our disposal on the keyboard, to reCreate and customize the language. Those who think that graphic abbreviations are reductions in form are still out of context. It is these abbreviations that speak and amplify our new “selves” and ways of being. “Unowatimn” could appear bizarre, but through this and other variations we see the world through the lens of communities hr and thr, unowatimn?

You already know my reasoning: I don’t believe that x = y. They are different variables! I mean, textese exists and is doing very well, thank you. It transgresses English; it’s a parallel code, relatively autonomous. The etymology confirms that translation is transformation. Every linguistic form suggests some meaning. If we change the code, the narrator changes. The story is never the same if new storytellers project their own speech and amplify the interaction. Relax! This is not the Tower of Babel nor the Apocalypse; it’s democracy. =)

Therefore, there’s no such thing as “wknd” being equal to “weekend”. Fun begins Saturday, not Sunday!

C u around!

Rosiane’s last post left my academic soul restless.

This blog gives us a good opportunity to exchange ideas and for you, the reader, to know better what is going on in our minds. As a translation student at PUC-Rio, I could not pass up the opportunity to add to Rose’s discussion. Did you know that in our program we have a course called Translation Theory? Not to mention the Theories of Meaning course that I still have not taken.

I agree with the premise meaning is in constant production. Although many times the words are waiting to be translated, meaning is not concretely stuck to one idea—although they are arbitrarily agreed upon. It is up to us, as translators to interpret and give new meaning to speech and to find those that accept the ideas we are trying to convey.

Recently, a colleague of mine asked how to say abraço in English. To give a quick answer, I said that it was “hug.” But we have to keep in mind that language was not born from a translation project and as such, one word is not tied to another in regards to its meaning. For example, Brazilian culture allows us to end conversations with “beijos e abraços,” but in English it is not customary to bid farewell by saying “kisses” or “hugs.”

Like Rose said: the word “saudade” does not have an equivalent in other languages. If we think about it, IN PRINCIPLE, no word has an exact equivalent meaning in another language. It is the cultures and contexts that more or less define the sphere of meaning.

In European Portuguese, the word “rato” (meaning a computer mouse), represents more than a simple object; it represents an adverse linguistic attitude towards foreign expressions. And so it is and as so I will follow… This notion of constant production and interpretation of meaning is where my loyalty resides.

How do your ideas contribute to mine and Rosiane’s? Any volunteers for Part 3 of this discussion?

This is my farewell post as this is my last week at Ccaps. We never publish literary stuff here in the Ccaps Blog, but since this is a special occasion, I managed to make an exception…

At the Literature Workshop class, we were assigned a task: to write a narrative in English after listening to the folktale O menino que foi ao vento norte, by Brazilian storyteller Bia Bedran. Check out what I came up. This is a free adaptation of “Bia canta e conta.”

Boy, who had been shopping for his mother, was coming back home full of bags in his arms when North Wind took them all away. “Now what? How can I explain it to Mother?,” he thought.

Poor thief…
Hope to see you soon! Take care you all!

Sorry, there is no English version for this post.