Omnivore is a regular report on some of the things that I’ve been enjoying during the week (or thereabouts).
Finished up with David Bellos’s Is That a Fish in Your Ear?, and will move on to something new today!
Here is “Jama ko”, from the album of the same name by Bassekou Kouyate and Ngoni ba. [via YouTube]
Anthony Chen’s prize-winning ILO ILO has been picked up by Golden Village and will soon be showing in Singapore theatres.
It opens 29 August.
So—if I’m Groucho—would I be inclined to remove obstacles to international comprehension? Would I understand how to pivot a joke from English to French, or—if I were Bassem—from Egyptian Arabic to English? Would I have to worry about the English equivalent of Emad Eldeen Adeeb instructing me to buy tiger-themed bed sheets, too? (And seriously? Tiger themed?) I know I’d be tempted to take the Bakhtinian route and lean into the fact that an act of translation would be taking place—that someone could achieve English as She Is Spoke by intention rather than by accident (and that’s not the only way to lean into this, but it’s the first example that came to mind)—but I’m not so sure if that’s the best, most fruitful way to do it.
On translating humour. [via The Paris Review]
Incidentally, I just reached the translating humour chapter in David Bellos’s Is That a Fish in Your Ear? yesterday.
Bobby Bland has died at the age of 83. [via Pitchfork]
Below you can see him performing “Members Only”. [via YouTube]
Good morning. It’s a slow and lazy Monday morning. Singapore appears to finally be out of the haze. Here is a tiny bit of Jonny Greenwood’s soundtrack for The Master. [via YouTube]
The film is out on video now and I should really get to watching it.
Yes. For me, poetic creation was about action, not writing pretty verses. Not verses: facts. I created – it’s what I thought, it’s what I still think – certain facts. Not (more or less successful) lyrical bits and pieces. I reacted to events with facts – which I gave a verse form – and not with ‘poetry’. That’s why, even though I was a diligent student of the Masters of the Word, I was never interested in so-called ‘schools of poetry’ and their market-place, auctioneering rows about versification and metaphor… Speaking ‘directly’ was to lead to the source. To the restoration of banal faith, banal hope, banal love. Love that conquers death. Love conquered by death. Those were my concerns, those simple matters. The poems where I strained for originality, uniqueness, ‘novelty’, they’re of secondary importance. Possibly from the point of view of ‘aesthetic experience’, they’re better than the others. You can’t have ethics alone. But avant-garde dogmatists had created so much havoc; the only remedy was to replace what people call ‘poetic meaning’ with ordinary meaning, common sense. I consciously began to give up the privileges of ‘poetic meaning’. I turned to the banal truths. After a short trip to the land of ‘poetic meaning’, I go back to my rubbish heap.
Here you will find an interview with Polish poet Tadeusz Różewicz. [via 3:AM Magazine]