love your city

bleuissait les pages
January 26, 2010, 20:57
Filed under: floetry

i don’t know what it is, but i tend to grimace at the idea of books written by women. i know, i know. it’s terrible. but i can’t help it. aside from practically smothering myself in the things that anaïs nin has written, this is a man’s world © james brown.

that being said, amélie nothomb is on some next next next shit. i read one of her books,  métaphysique des tubes, while i was in france on a friend’s recommendation. it’s a pseudo-autobiography of the author’s first 3 years of life and it is by far one of the coolest books  have ever read. for some reason in english it is fucking translated into the character of rain, which tears at me in ways you can’t even imagine. the translation of the first few preview pages on amazon seems to be much truer to the original french, while unfortunately shedding some of those beautiful layers that only the original can wear.

that being said, please excuse my translation of this little gem i came upon in ms. nothomb’s  journal d’hirondelle – “a swallow’s diary.”

(background: a girl is arguing with her father over him having stolen her diary. she is waving a gun at him. she is threatening to shoot if he doesn’t tell her where it is.)

– Ma chérie, laisse-moi aller le chercher. Je te dis que je ne sais plus où…
– Ça veut dire que tu l’as laissé traîner. C’est encore plus grave.
– Je suis ton père. Tu ne vas pas tuer ton père.
– Ça s’appelle un parricide. Si ça porte un nom, c’est que ça existe.
– Tuer son père pour un journal intime !
– Il n’y a pas de mot pour la violation d’un journal. Ça prouve que c’est plus grave. C’est innommable.

– Honey, let me go get it. I’m telling you, I don’t know where…
– That means that you left it laying around. That’s even worse.
– I’m your father. You’re not going to kill your father.
– It’s called parricide. If it has a name, it’s because it exists.
– Killing your father over a diary!
– There is no word for the violation of a diary. That proves that it’s worse. It’s unspeakable*.

* technically translates to unspeakable, but if such a word as unnameable existed, that would be a way better translation.

banger shit. good night & good riddance.


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