this happens: a publishing house that publishes a Very Famous Writer decide after thirty ' years, the translator of historical change, through translation of the new book by the Great Writer Famous to a Young Translator on top. Nothing to say, the work of the new translator is good (despite a questionable choice to speak face a farmer in the American midwest as a character of vigils Blacks), but the network are raised several criticisms. The most common criticism is that the style of a very famous writer now looks more like dry, cold, antiseptic. It seems that it lacks the poetry. The Translator Young spoke on the crest of saying, more or less, that his style is more faithful to the original, and the warmth and poetry that readers were in the Italian Very Famous Writer perhaps were the work of the previous translator that implicitly, had a worst job, less accurate, as they say putting his own. In this case, a hat should be done in the previous translator, urging him to direct a literary effort, it certainly has in the ropes. What I think, though, is that in translation there is a more or less accurate, because there is no absolute truth in the words. If you are in the country, and observe that building where you store the grain after the harvest, I use the word barn, and who reads the word creates an image in your mind, that of a barn. But what color is yours? E 'day or night? And what color are the fixtures? As the door is open or closed? There the grain that comes from the door? And if there are trees around, as I am? Maybe your barn is red with white window frames, or blue, and maybe a weathervane on the roof. Or maybe one of those wind-wheel? My certainly has one, and there are blueberry bushes at the back. All these things are not written in words, are things that come out, generated by the speech and made from memory, the experience and the unconscious of each one. Some time ago I suggested to a person Calvino. Palomar, which I felt and feel so alive and full of haunting beauty, he found it cold and repetitive, repetitive and cold that she is not certain. But somehow the words of Calvin as the read, Lei O how I've read, maybe. So I'm thinking, maybe the old translator in a warm, and when reading the writer so popular that generate images her words are warm and poetic, it translates in Italian as best he can, trying to maintain what he tried. And maybe the young translator on the wave crests in hand, has a cold and antiseptic, and the images it generates when reading the Very Famous Writer lack of human warmth, and that's making them. Then I also explained that when one reads a blog, for example, can read a sentence that tells you something, and give it a completely different meaning. We are strange things, we see when we look inside out, often. But seriously: what color is your barn?
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