Living in Italy: the Real Deal

I received good news today. My latest translation is available in paperback on Amazon (both in the UK and the US). It is the biggest piece of work I have ever done and I have had my ups and downs with it, but seeing it published is wonderful and I can’t believe I have translated…

The Ethics of Translation

Recently I read an interview with the Hungarian translator of Harry Potter. Needless to say, he is a very good translator who rendered the Harry Potter books into Hungarian in a way that retained the books’ style, atmosphere and play on words (e.g.: riddles, character names) etc… What struck me in the interview was that…

Complicated

As I said in my previous post about Hungary, trips to my homeland often go hand in hand with big discoveries. This year I had another one of these eye-opener moments. As I chatted with my friends, one after the other, for hours on end, suddenly a piece of the puzzle fell into place and…

Hungary

When I am in Hungary, I am lost to my English family. There is a side to me that they will never completely understand, they will never get. It makes them realise that, no matter how fluent I am in English, really I am a stranger in disguise. They don’t actually know where I came…

Perfection

Perfection is compulsive. Perfection is a myth. Perfection is judgement. Perfection is failure. Perfection is frustration. Perfection is unhappiness. Perfection is vulnerability. Perfection is a curse. Perfection only exists in imperfection… …in nature …and in maths.

Structuralism

I am not one for theories. Studying Chomsky’s Generative Grammar at university had put an end to my career in theoretical linguistics. Even though, linguistics was by far my preferred subject (syntax, phonetics, morphology, semantics, you name it…); building a ‘universal grammar’ felt like having gone about a hundred extrapolations too far. Like building a…

Holding Hands

I never held my children’s hands. Or, to be precise: I never made them hold mine. Growing up, I associated holding hands with suppression, fear and embarrassment. When people, who said they loved me, squeezed my hand too tight or even scratched me in the palm for minor offences like not saying ‘hello’ to acquaintances….

My brain

One of my friends has posted a little video on Facebook about how ‘Studying other languages actually changes the structure of your brain’. This set me thinking. I remembered one of my favourite uncles who I once visited with my family in Vienna when I was about eight. He was a second generation American-Hungarian who…

Childhood

I just wish everyone knew that all children are born good. That all children are perfect and innocent and that they are hopelessly vulnerable in their unconditional devotion to their carers. That they are determined to love them at any cost because their lives literally depend on them. I wish all people knew the anxiety…

Purpose

Today’s daily prompt on WordPress is Purpose. I would like to share with you my beautiful teenager’s theory on Purpose. She thinks that the purpose of life for all (people and animals alike) is to achieve happiness and to avoid suffering. Sounds Buddhist doesn’t it? She thinks that every one of our actions can be…

Standing with my balls against the block

  I am currently embroiled in translating a book written by two Dutch blokes about setting up a B&B in Italy. It’s a collection of tongue in cheek stories about the Italians’ eccentricities and the poor Dutch men’s daily struggles to survive in the sunny Mediterranean. The stories are littered with Dutch idioms, colloquialisms and…