応募した人いる? 主に英日部門の話をしたいんですが、どうでしたか今回は? 私は締め切りぎりぎりまで訳文を詰めて送ったんだけどそれでも完成度80%というところ。 難易度としてはあれでかまわないんだけど(あまり簡単すぎるとライバルが増えるし)、 いかんせん課題文のつまらないことといったら! 小説全体のイメージを掴むのに役立つと思ってわざわざアマゾンで原書を注文して臨んだけど、 これが賞の課題でなきゃ自分の楽しみとしては絶対読まないだろうというタイプの話。 作者はブッカー賞を二度も取ってるというし、他の作品は面白いのかもしれないけど 結局主人公のキャラクターもいまいちつかめないまま最終稿を送り出してしまった。 一次審査くらいは通ってほしいが… まず最初の一行からつまずいたし。 In the end I shall be judged.ってどういうふうに訳すべきなの? 最後に私は裁かれるだろう、じゃストレート過ぎるだろうし。
1. In the end I shall be judged. They will write about me in books and take care to explain me so badly that it is better that I do it myself. They will write with the stupid smugness of middleclass intellectuals, people of moral rectitude who have never seriously placed themselves at risk. They have supported wars they have not fought in, and damned companies they have not had the courage to destroy. Their skins are fair and pampered and their bellies are corseted by expensively made jeans. They will write about me as a tyrant, a psychopath, an aberrant accountant, and many other things, but it would never once occur to them that I might know exactry what I am doing. Neither would they imagine that I might have feelings other than those of a mad dog. But they do not have a monopoly on finer feelings, as you shall soon see. I cannot begin to tell you how I loathe them, how I have, in weaker moments , envied them, how I longed to be accepted by them and how at the first hint of serious threat from them I would not have the faintest qualms about incarcerating them all. The vermin, may they feast on this and cover it with their idiot footnotes.
>>36 解説ありがとうございます。 those of a mad dogについては私も不思議に思ってました。 thoseなのになぜa mad dogなのだろうと。 They will write with stupid smugnessからのところはまさに>>35で言った 凝った表現になってるかもしれません。 力量もないくせにおこがましいと、はねられるかな。 I cannot begin to tell youのところは確かに1章の中で一番難しいと感じたところでした。 よろしければ直訳でかまわないので模範解答を書いてくれればありがたいのですが。 2章以降は…気が向いたらまたやりたいと思います。
53さんが訳文を書いてくれたので、助かりました。 二人の訳を比べて違っているところがいくつかありますが、おおむね、53さんの方が正しいと言わざるを得ません。 もちろん、解釈が複数考えられる部分がありますが。 1さんはぜひ、53さんの訳を自分のと比べてみてください。 ただ、最後の1行はどちらも間違っています。これはこうなります。 「虫けらどもめ、この本をごちそうにして、足跡でおおいつくすがいい。」 なお、フットノートは脚注と虫の足跡がかけてあると思います。虫は本につく虫でしょう。 thisを本としたのは、やつらが本を書く前にこっちが書いてやる、という冒頭の言葉から判断しました。 mayなんとか、というのは、may your days be merry and brightという歌がありますよね、ホワイトクリスマス。 何何がこうでありますように、ということです。
>1 36さんのおっしゃる通りです。 私は1さんの翻訳と36さんのご指摘を読んでから翻訳しました。 いわば「カンニング&指導者つき」で翻訳したようなもの。 実力ではありません。それに応募もしていません。 できれば第2章の原文だけを先にUPしてもらえませんか? 他にも翻訳したい人がいるかもしれないので。 May the force be with you! (↑私たちがひっかかった構文です。「スター・ウォーズより」)
スペリングミスもあるかもしれませんがとりあえず 2. The most elegant Barto was driving the car, a Cadillac Eldorado with leaking air-conditioning. In a purple T-shirt and waist-length fur coat, he looked the very embodiment of sexual decadence; his shoulder-length raven hair, his large nose and chin made him as severely handsome as an Indian on a postage stamp. Beside him, I felt graceless and boring. My trousers were shapeless and baggy. My hair was tangled and knotted, my glasses filthy, and my unshaven face looked pasty, patchy and particularly unhealthy. It was a face made to appear in the dock, a poor man's face, squinting nervously into the future. I had filled the trunk of the Eldorado with an armoury of modern weapons but I carried a small .22 under my arm. The .22 is a punk's weapon. It was my secret and I shared it with no one. Barto kept a Colt .45 in the glove box. It was big and heavy and perfectly melodramatic. "If it doesn't scare the cunts to death we can always shoot them."
It was a hard time and only the most unconventional methods were succeding in business. Certainly we didn't look like the popular image of businessman. We were special. Once you appreciated the power we held, you could only be astonished at our cleverness. For me, my grubbiness had become a habit so long ingrained that it is difficult to think back to how it started or why it continued. But it was, finally, a perverse identification with the poor people I was raised amongst. Excepting the years when I was a young accountant, I have continued to wear the marks of my caste for they are stamped, not only on my face, but also on my poorly fed bones. No matter what rich clothes I wore, I would deceive no one. So I wear them proudly. They stink. The most casual observer will know that I am someone of great note: to dress like a beggar and be given the accord due to a prince. It was a costume fit for an age which had begun by proudly proclaiming its lack of regimentation and ended railing at its own disarray.
Unemployment had become a way of life and the vagabonds had formed into bands with leaders, organizations and even, in some cases, apocalyptic religions whose leaders preached the coming of the millennium. These last were as rare as threatened species, cosseted, protected and filmed by bored journalists eager for symbols of the times. The rest of the bands roamed the country, godless, hungry and unpublicized. We saw only one group on the six-hundred-mile journey north. They were camped by a bridge at the Thirty-two Mile Creek. As we approached they attempted to drag a dead tree across the road. I felt Bart hesitate. The cowboy boot came back off the accelerator, making a stoned decision at eighty miles an hour. "Plant it," I said. I said it fast and hard. He planted it. The Cadillac responded perfectly. I heard the crunch of breaking wood. Tearing noises. Looking back I saw two bundles of rags lying on the road. "Shit." The word was very quiet. I looked at Bart. He looked a little pale. "How did it feel?" He considered my question. "I don't know," he drawled out the words, beginning to luxuriate in the puzzle they contained, "just sort of soft. Sort of ..." he furrowed his brow, "sort of did-it-happen, didn't-it-happen type of thing."
I leant into the back seat and pulled up a bag of dope and rolled an exceedingly large trumpet-shaped joint. The Cadillac devoured the miles while the faulty air-conditioner dripped cold water onto Bart's cowboy boots, and I thought once again how genuinely strange our lives had become. I often stepped back and looked at myself from the outside. I was unthinkable to myself. Now I found it amazing to consider that only a week ago I had been making a most unconventional presentation to a highly conservative board of directors. The success of presentation was the reason we were now heading north in this elegant car. The board, of course, knew a great deal about us before we made the presentation. They were prepared for, and wanted, the unconventional. They expected to be frightened. They also expected to be given hope. Given their desire to believe in us, it would have been exceedingly dificult to do the presentation badly. I dressed as badly as they would have expected me to, and spoke as arrogantly as they had been led to expect I would. There was nothing terribly original in the way we analysed the ills of the frozen meals subsidiary. It was simply professional, a quality that was lacking in the subsidiary's present management. We presented a market analysis, and pointed out that their company was in a unique position to take advantage of the present economic conditions. We presented a profit projection for the next twelve months and claimed a fee of half this figure, or whatever profit was finally delivered. If there was no profit we would ask for no fee. This money was to be deliverd to us, in whatever way their lawyers could discover, tax-free.
We demanded complete autonomy during those twelve months and asked the board's guarantee that they would not interfere. It was not difficult to imagine that they would buy it. They were making heavy losses and we were obviously confident of making considerable profits. In addition I had two successes behind me: a pharmaceutical company and a supermarket chain, both of which had been rescued from the hands of the receivers and turned into profitable businesses. It would never have occurred to them that now, on this road hesding towards their factory, I would be so tense and nervous that my stmach would hurt. I had gained a perverse pleasure from their respect. Now I would live in terror of losing it. Outside the car, the scrub was immersed in a hot haze. The world seemed full of poisonous spider, venomous snake, raw red clay, and the desperate face of disenfranchised men.
「The .22 is a punk's weapon.」 これは実際にチンピラから譲り受けたのでしょうか。 バートが持つ45口径と比較して、 「22口径はチンピラが持つ程度の(しょぼい)武器」 という解釈も考えられます。
「If it doesn't scare the cunts to death we can always shoot them」 このcuntは「女性性器」の意味ではないでしょう。 「アホどもがこれを見てマジでびびらないようなら、 いつでもぶっぱなしてやる」と45口径の威力を盾に いきがっているのでは?
36さん、そこまでしていただいて恐縮です。 正直全部読んでも何が言いたいのか良くわからない話ですよね。 結局題名のWar Crimesはどう訳すべきなんでしょうかね。 遅くなりましたが課題文の範囲の最後の3章分です。 3. The factory belched smoke into the sky and looked beyond saving. We parked by the bridge and watched white-coated men in an aluminium boat inspect the dead fish which were floating there. The dead fish and the foul smoke from the plant assumed the nature of a feverish dream. Flies descended on our shirt backs and our faces. We waved at them distractedly. Through the heat haze I observed the guard at the factory gate. His scuttling behaviour seemed as alien and inexplicable as that of a tropical crab. It took some time to realize that we were the object of his uncertain attentions: he kept walking out towards us and shouting. When we didn't respond, he quickly lost all courage and nervously scuttled back to his post. The Cadillac was confusing him. 工場が空に煙を吐き出す姿は、救い難いように思われた。車は橋のそばに停め、 俺たちはアルミニウムのボートに乗って川面に浮かぶ死んだ魚を調査する 白いコートを着た男たちを眺めた。 死んだ魚や工場から出る煙はまるで熱病に冒されたとき見る夢の様相を呈していた。 背中や顔にハエがたかってきた。俺たちはそれをうるさげに掃った。 熱をはらんだ靄越しに工場の門に立つ守衛に注意を向けた。ちょこまかと 動き回る様子は熱帯の蟹のように風変わりで意味不明だった。ふとやつが なんとなく気にしているのは俺たちだと気付いた。やつはこっちに向かってきて喚いた。 俺たちが取り合わないでいると、やつは急に関心をなくして神経質そうに ちょこまかともとの位置に戻っていった。 キャデラックがものを言ったようだ。
Around the plant the country was scrubby, dense, prickly and unattractive. Certain grasses betrayed the presence of swamp and the air itself was excessively humid and almost clinging. The prospect of spending twelve months here was not a pleasant one. Behind the anxious guard the factory stood quietly rusting under a heavy grey sky. It looked like nothing more than a collection of eccentric tin huts. One might expect them to contain something dusty and rotten, the leftovers from a foreign war in disordered heaps, broken instruments with numbered dials and stiff canvas webbing left to slowly rust and decay. Yet the plant was the largest frozen food processing and storage facility in the country. The storerooms, at this moment, contained one and a half million dollars’ worth of undistributed merchandise, household favourites that had lost their popularity in the marketplace. It was hard to reconcile the appearance of the plant with the neat spiral-bound report titled “Production and Storage facilities”. 工場のある一帯は潅木が生え、そればっかりで、おまけに棘もあって、 おもしろくもくそもなかった。ある種の草は湿地の存在を曝け出し、 空気そのものが異常にじめついていて粘着質ですらある。ここで過ごす十二ヶ月は さぞ楽しかろう。 心配性の守衛の背後で重い灰色の空の下、錆びゆく工場が佇んでいた。 どう見てもとっぴなブリキの小屋の寄せ集めがいいとこだ。ほこりっぽくて 腐っていそうだ。数字の刻まれた電話のダイヤルや、硬いキャンバス地の革紐などの ガラクタからなる、無秩序な堆積物の上で行われた外国の戦争の残り物が、 ゆっくり錆び、腐るとこんな感じになるかもしれない。 しかし工場は国内で最大の冷凍食品加工と貯蔵を兼ねる施設である。 貯蔵室にはそのとき市場で人気を失った家庭食品150万ドル相当の在庫があった。 工場の外観と小ぎれいな螺旋綴じの報告書の題名「製造及び貯蔵施設」 を結びつけるのは難しい。
I knew at that moment I didn’t want to go anywhere near that plant. I wanted to be in a nice bar with soft music playing, the air-conditioning humming, a little bowl of macadamia nuts and a very long gin and tonic in front of me. I got back into the Cadillac and took some Mylanta for my stomach. At the gate the guard seemed reluctant to let us in and Bart pulled out the Colt. It was an unnecessary move but he enjoyed it. His gangster fantasies had never been allowed for in corporate life. He looked like a prince of darkness, standing at the gate in a purple T-shirt, a fur coat, the fingernails of his gun-hand painted in green and blue. I smiled watching him, thinking that capitalism had surely entered its most picturesque phase. 俺はそのとき自分が工場の近くに行きたいなどと思ってないことに気付いた。 エアコンが低く唸る素敵なバーで音楽を聴きながら、マカデミアナッツの入った ボウルとジントニックの長いグラスが置かれていればそれでいい。俺はキャデラック に戻って胃薬を取った。 ゲートで守衛がしぶしぶといった様子で俺たちを通すとバートはコルトを抜いた。 必要の無い動作だが彼は楽しんでいた。彼のギャング憧れは組織の中では受け入れられなかった。 ゲートに立つ彼は紫色のTシャツと毛皮のコートを着て、銃を握る指の爪は 緑と青に塗られていて、まるで闇の世界の王子のようだ。俺は彼を眺めながら、 資本主義が最も絵になる場面は今だなと一人ごち、笑みがこぼれた。
>67 念のために原書では、61と62にアップされた訳文のあいだに 「They were, surely, the Last Days.」 という1文が入っています。
「the vagabonds had formed into bands with leaders, organizations and …」 ここはband → organization → religion の順で組織化が 進んでいることを意識したほうがいいでしょう。どうもこの作家は、こんな風に 段階を踏んで表現を強めていくのが好きなようです。
「in some cases」 これは「ケース」と訳されていますが、 安易にカタカナ語に置き換える姿勢は、評者に良い印象を与えません。 「場合によっては」と訳してもまったく問題はないわけですし、 この文脈なら「あまつさえ宗教団体を作るやつらまで出てきた」と いう言い方もできるからです。
「They were prepared for, and wanted, the unconventional.」 「the unconventional」は「prepared for」の目的語でもあることをお忘れなく。
「they would have expected me to」 「they had been led to expect I would」 たしかに日本語に要約すれば「お望みどおり」「期待される」となるのかもしれませんが、 上は仮定法なので、できれば訳文にも反映させたいですね。「連中は、俺がとんでもない 服装で来ることを期待していただろうから、お望みどおりの格好をしてやった」とか。
「It was simply professional,」 このprofessionalは、直後に出てくる「a quality」のことですから、 「専門家」というよりも「プロ意識」「経営のプロ」といった意味でしょう。 要はこの会社が素人経営だったということですね。
「a fee of half this figure, or of whatever profit was finally delivered」 「a fee of half this figure」というのは、あくまで 「俺たちが提示した利益見積もり額の半分」という意味です。 予測を上回る利益が上がったときに備えて、「this figure」に「最終的な利益」という 条件を加えたわけです。「俺たちはこの数字の半分、厳密には実際にあがる利益の半分を要求した」ということです。
なのですが、1さんがコピーしてくださった原文は a fee of half this figure, or whatever profit was・・・. とofが入ってませんよね。 そのために1さんも私も訳しながら「?」と。 このofはオリジナルには入っているのですか? それとも、省略されているものを見つけなくてはならないのでしょうか。
I was glad that it rained. Not just a drizzle but big furious drops that lashed against us and danced at our feet. Our discomfort seemed somehow appropriate, all of us standing there with tears and rain washing down our taut faces, overcome by so many names. The clouds were just right too, dark and solemn as they marched slowly past, heavy with grief. But what got me most were the birds, dozens of them in every tree, loud and insistent. I remember listening and thinking how familiar they sounded, so that I couldn’t close my eyes for more than a moment without tumbling back.
It was my first trip back to France. I had taken a train from Paris to Reims, where I rented a car and drove five hours, getting lost twice. Charlotte stayed in Paris with our son Sean, who was three then, and her sister Margaret, who had traveled with us from the States. I knew Charlotte wouldn’t join me for the service; she had no tolerance for battlefields or military reunions and rarely asked about my experiences at the front. I didn’t blame her though, and I was glad that she didn’t complain when I told her that I’d be gone for six days. I never did come back. Not completely.
That was in 1928, a time when thousands of memorials were still being erected across France and Belgium: great big arches engraved with row upon row of names; small plaques and crosses in little fenced‐in plots; solitary obelisks and statues in village squares; every one of them attended by mothers and fathers and wives and lovers who still remembered; vividly. Page and a few others were there, dressed in their old uniforms, subtly altered. I didn’t bring mine. Charlotte said I looked foolish when I tried it on, but that’s not why I left it. Standing in front of the mirror and looking at myself, I decided I didn’t want to see myself that way anymore. Not ever again.
“It feels sort of strange to be here, doesn’t it?” said Page, lighting his third cigarette in a row and cupping it in his hand to protect it from the rain. I thought he looked much older than his age and wondered how many years a war takes off a man. “I wasn’t sure if I should come.” “Glad you did,” I said. “Makes me sad, thinking of the guys.” I nodded. “At least this time we get to see France.” “Yes, at least we can do that.”
I proposed that we meet in Paris on that Friday for a night out but he was leaving the next morning on a family vacation. Just in case, I gave him the name of the hotel where Charlotte and I were staying and told him to call, though I didn’t think he would.
The monument itself, a long granite rectangle four feet high, was draped in a white cloth. Nearby, two small tables were covered with food provided by a local committee of mostly overweight French women, who smiled incessantly and kissed our cheeks with great delight. After a few speeches the cloth was removed and a wreath placed at the base. During a moment of silence I closed my eyes tight and let the birds take me. When I opened my eyes I saw her.
「Not just a drizzle but big furious drops」 ここが「小雨ならぬ」では、「just」の意味が出ません。 「雨でよかった。それも小雨ではなく、激しい雨粒が〜」ぐらいのほうが、 主人公の心境をより明確に表現できると思うのですが。
「overcome by so many names」 この「names」はもちろん戦死者のことでしょう。 ですが、「死者」で片付けたのでは原文の意図が伝わりにくい。 「あれほど大勢の戦死者のひとりひとりに名前があること」に打ちのめされているのではありませんか? ひょっとすると式典で、戦死者の名前を読みあげていたのかもしれません。
「what got me most were the birds」 この「got」は「気になった」と訳してありますが、 雨→雲→鳥の声と、この場にふさわしいものを順番に語っているわけですから、 「私の心をとらえたのは」ぐらいの意味ではないでしょうか。
「how familiar they sounded, so that 〜」 ここはまず、so that構文が反映されていません。 「tumbling back」はちょっと私も自信がないのですが、 めまいでもして後ろに倒れるというより、「(目を閉じれば)戦場での日々に引き戻されそうな気がする」 という意味ではないかと思います。 そうなると「familiar」に「懐かしい」といった訳語は使えませんね。
I knew right away, though I’d never seen her before. All the long nights listening to Daniel describe her; straining to see her face as he read her letters out loud, his voice mixing with the muffled cough of distant artillery. I stood up on my toes to get a better look at her, craning my neck above the small crowd. She stood farther back than anyone; I think she might have arrived late. I couldn’t catch her eye but I could see her profile clearly. A little taller than I had imagined; darker hair, partially hidden beneath a scarf.
When the ceremony ended, she walked slowly over to the monument and rested both hands on it, as though praying. Then she leaned forward and searched through the names. I stood immobile, watching. It had to be her. Julia. The woman Daniel had planned to marry. The mother of the child he never lived to meet. I remembered Daniel telling me how he felt the first time he saw her; how he just knew. I watched as she slowly ran her fingers along the granite, stopping at Daniel’s name, then carefully tracing each letter. I looked at her slender hands and her narrow shoulders and the side of her face and her dark brown hair and the way she tilted her head slightly, as though adjusting to the sight of Daniel’s name in stone.
Finally I approached her. “Julia?” She turned quickly and I saw those bright green eyes, and even in her sadness they were smiling, just like Daniel described them. So it was her. And how perfect she looked, more perfect than I had imagined, with the kind of face that you instinctively want to touch and kiss and gaze at for hours. Even now as I recall her features: her sharp jaw‐line, her small nose and pronounced cheekbones―what I remember most is the searing sensation of looking into her eyes for the first time, eyes that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
“I’m sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m―” “But wait, I know who you are.” “You do?” “Patrick. Patrick…Delaney. Am I right?” “Yes, but how did you know?” “I’ve heard a lot about you, from Daniel’s letters.”She offered me her hand. “I’m grad to meet you. I never expected…” “I didn’t either.” The rain started to come down faster and soon people were hurrying to their cars. I saw Page wave at me as he struggled with an umbrella. “You’re wet. Should we go?”I asked, wishing I had an umbrella to offer her. “I don’t mind it,”she said. I watched a drop of rain run slowly down her cheek, hesitating at the corner of her mouth. I struggled not to stare.
She wasn’t glamorous. There was even a certain plainness to he appearance ―no fashionable bob or plucked eyebrows―but that’s what made her so appealing. Her warm, soft features were strikingly natural, as though she’d look the same whether just getting out of bed or going out to dinner. Meanwhile, her shy smile and flashing eyes―what life they held!―suggested an interesting combination of strength and vulnerability. When I caught myself staring, I forced my gaze away.
tumbling back ですが、若かった戦友たちの化身とも言える小鳥たちの鳴き声を 聞きながら、自分も(永遠の)眠りに誘われるような感覚がした、とは取れない でしょうか? ずっと後に、it felt good to be back; sad but good, as though I belonged here. という文が出てきます。こんな気持ちとの関連はないのかな? と思います。
One by one the cars pulled onto the road and sped off. We stood there awkwardly for a moment, there began walking slowly around the monument, reading the names. After a few minutes the rain let up. “I spent two weeks in San Francisco looking for you,”I said finally. “I even put advertisements in the papers.” “You did? Really?”She looked surprised.
I nodded, feeling embarrassed. “I had promised Daniel I’d find you, though I had no idea what I was going to say if I did.” “That was very kind of you.”She touched my shoulder, and from the expression on her face I could tell she was moved. “I wasn’t too successful.” “I’m afraid I’ve moved around a lot. I spent three years in Seattle after the war. I had a job teaching.” “Painting? Daniel said that you ―” “Yes, I’m still at it.” “I’d love to see some of your work.” “Give me a few more years.”She removed her scarf and shook her hair, which was a thick brown, before running her through its wavy softness. Her gestures were slow and deliberate.
I put my coat down and we sat on the granite step that ran along the base of the monument and stared out at the sodden field, which was still marred with bits of barbed wire and marked off with signs that warned TERRAIN INTERDIT (forbidden ground) in large red letters. Julia turned and ran her fingers along the freshly engraved names. As we sat in silence I felt nervous in her presence and wondered what to say. Should I talk about Daniel? The war?
“You have a child?”I asked finally. “Yes, Robin.”Her smile returned.“A friend of mine is looking after her. It’s the first time we’ve ever been apart.” I thought of Sean and how he always screamed with delight when I returned home from work, barreling down the halfway to the front door. Already I’d begun to miss him: his chubby little face, the way he mispronounced things, his endless noisemaking. Since he was born I’d even turned down business that would have taken me out of town.
“And you?” “A son. He’s with my wife in Paris. She’s not much for this kind of thing.” “Not too many people are.”She was right of course. I suppose that’s why I was so glad that she had come. I knew it would have meant a lot to Daniel. Death is such a lonely thing that it seems important for loved ones to know where you faced it just yards from where we were standing.
I looked down at the wet ground, wondering what fragments of war it still held. “Mind if I ask question?”said Julia, standing up and turned toward me. I raised my hands. “Anything.” “Why did you come here?” I shrugged. “Wouldn’t you rather forget? I can’t imagine what you think about.” “I can’t imagine explaining what I think about.” She stared at me so intently that I had to look away. I tried to think how to describe all the reasons I had to come back to France. “I feel closer to them here. Closer to a big part of me. It’s hard to explain, really, but I had to come.” “To say good-bye?” “To say hello.” A sad smile spread across her face. I stood up next to her and we both looked out over the meadow, which was gradually being swallowed by a thick mist.
I pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering her one. Then I lit a match and cupped my hands in front of her face, watching the light play on her cheeks. Her face looked so lovely to me―those piercing green eyes set in a slight squint, as though she were concentrating extra hard―that I felt self-conscious, wanting desperately for her to like me, which always seemed to make me less likable. “It’s getting cold,”she said, pulling the collar of her coat tighter around her neck. “Look, the fog has completely covered the field. Like a shroud.” The headlights of a passing car swooped across the field, briefly illuminating the monument.
Julia ran her fingers along the etched names once more. “It’s so lonely here,”she said. “It sure as hell ought to be,”I said, taking a long drag from my cigarette. “It doesn’t upset you?” “Not right now. To tell you the truth I’m almost enjoying it.”It was true: after ten years of being stalked by memories it felt good to be back; sad but good, as though I belonged here. She gave me a sideways look. “So if I’ve got it right, you favor dark, lonely and rainy places?” “Only with the right company,”I said, stomping my cigarette butt out. She kept looking at me, smiling. I looked down at my watch. “It’s getting late. Are you staying in town?” “At the Hotel Concord.” “So am I” “Really?”A blush? We began walking down the gravel path to where our cars were parked. “Any chance I could buy you dinner tonight?”I asked, hoping she wouldn’t detect the nervousness in my voice. “Yes, I’d like that,”she said. As she got in her car she turned toward me and I could see she was crying. “Patrick?”she whispered. I leaned forward to hear her. “Yes?” She looked at me closely.“I need to know what happened. You must tell me what happened.”
>200(原文176) 「It was my first trip back to France.」 直訳はたしかに、「フランスに戻るのは初めてだった」ということですが、 日本語では「ここに来るのは初めて」とは言っても、「ここに戻るのは初めて」とは言いませんね。 終戦後初めてのフランス再訪という意味でしょうから、「戻る」にこだわらない訳のほうが自然です。 ここをどう訳したかで、応募原稿の約半数はふるい落とされるでしょう。
「Charlotte stayed in Paris with our son Sean,〜」 「シャーロットは、当時三歳だった息子のショーンを連れて、 アメリカから一緒にやって来た姉のマーガレットとパリに残った。」 まずマーガレットが姉か妹かという問題は、課題文にそれを判断できる記述がないので、 どちらでもかまわないと思います。 それより気になるのは、「ショーンを連れて、〜パリに残った」という表現です。 日本語では「連れていく」とは言いますが、「連れて残る」とは言いません。
「battlefields or military reunions」 「戦争の場」「軍人の集まり」はいまひとつあいまいな訳ですね。 戦争はもう終わっているのだから、「かつて戦場だったところ」という意味を はっきり出したほうがいいでしょう。また「reunion」はもともと「同窓会」 という意味もあるくらいですから、「再会」のニュアンスを出す必要があります。
「experiences at the front」 せっかく「the front」とあるのだから、「戦争体験」とわざわざ広い意味に 訳すことはありませんね。従軍せず、銃後の守りを固めていた人たちの体験も 「戦争体験」に含まれてしまいます。
「I never did come back. Not completely.」 これは難しいところです。「I never did come back.」だけだと、本当に そのまま蒸発でもして、妻のもとには戻らなかったことになります。 しかし「Not completely.」と補足されているわけですから、 身体は戻ったけれど、本当の意味では、つまり心までは戻らなかった、 という感じではないでしょうか。
In 'Strawberry Fields Forever', John looks back at his hometown Liverpool, while in 'Penny Lane', Paul looks back at his. There's sn smazing contrast between John and Paul's music and personality. Let's listen to 'Strawberry Fields Forever'.Strawberry Field was the name of the orphanage where John had often played as a child. In this fantastic song, he remembers his childhood days, surrounded by a surreal world where nobody understood him. Would you like to go to "Straw berry Fields"?
Who praised the album, "Sgt.Pepper's"? What are over 60 world-famous people doing on the jacket? What did George Martin call the single, 'Strawberry Fields Forver/Penny Lane'? What was Strawberry Field?
>203(原文178,179) 「cupping it in his hand to protect it from the rain」 「手をかざして雨をよけながら」では、手を頭の上にかざして 自分が濡れるのを防ぎながら、という意味にも取れます。 それでいったいどうやってタバコに火をつけたのか、訳文を読んだとき 一瞬考えこんでしまいました。でも原文を見ると、タバコが雨に濡れないよう 手でおおっていたんですね。
「I wasn’t sure if I should come.」「来ようか来るまいか迷ったんだ」 ここは日本語が不自然です。「来るまい」は「来ないだろう」という意味ですから。 「来ようかどうしようか迷った」のほうが日本語は自然ですが、 ただそれではshouldの強い意味が出ません。「来ていいものかどうか迷った」ぐらいの ニュアンスがあると思うのですが。
「Makes me sad, thinking of the guys.」 戦死した仲間のことを思うと「気が滅入る」とは、ずいぶん冷淡な戦友だと 感じましたが、ここはsad本来の「悲しい」という意味ではいけないのでしょうか。
「food provided by a local committee」 訳文にはlocal committeeが出ていませんね。 とっても日本的なたとえをするならば、 地元の町内会婦人部のみなさんが、慰霊碑除幕式列席者のために 心づくしの料理を用意したという感じでしょうか。 もちろん原文からは「手料理」かどうか断定はできませんが。
> ところで、中3の娘の英語の教科書に、 > We can contact each other either by e-mail or the Internet. > という文があるんですが、これ、わたし絶句してしまいまして(^^;) > 訳せなかったんですよ。このthe Internetは果たしてなにを指しているのでしょう。
this took place forty years ago in africa, and still I ponder it - the opportunity,the self-deception,the sex, the power,the fear, the confrontation,the foolishness,all the wrongness. the incident has informed one of my early novels and short stories. It was something like First Contact, the classic encounter between the wanderer and the hidden indigenous person, the meeting of people who are such utter strangers to each other that one side sees a ghost and the other side suspects an opportunity.It won't leave my mind.
I had gone from America to africa and had been there for almost a year: Nyasaland.Independence come and with it a new name,Malawi. I was teacher in a small school. I spoke the language,Chichewa. I had a house and even a cook, a Yao Muslim named Jika. My cook had a cook of his own,a youug boy, Ismail.We were content in the bush, a corner of the southern highlands, red dust, bad roads, ragged people. Apart from the clammy cold season, June to August, none of this seemed strange. I had been expecting this Africa and I liked it. I used to say:I'll get culture shock when I go back home.
最初に確認したいのですが、 課題文はポール・セローが季刊文芸誌"Granta"に寄稿した エッセイ"Over There"でしょうか。 Grantaのウェブサイトで読むと、 "It had shocked me and made me feel American."で 終わっていますが、これが全文なのかな?
「the opportunity, the self-deception, the sex …」 と、何の説明もなく名詞がぽんぽんと列挙されている箇所は、 とても訳しにくい。 ですが、これもすべてあとで語られる内容と呼応しているわけですから、 それを踏まえた訳語選びが求められます。 たとえば「power」はほんとうに「権力」でいいでしょうか? 「all the wrongness」は、前のことを受けて「それらすべて」 という意味なのか?
「Apart from the clammy cold season,」 この箇所が訳されていません。
「I had been expecting this Africa」 細かいところですが、この「this Africa」の意味もはっきり出したほうが いいかと思います。セローが暮らしていた場所は、アフリカと聞いて 彼が想像していたとおりのところだったわけです。言いかえれば、 セローがアフリカに抱いていた先入観の域を一歩も出ていなかった。 ところがその後の「事件」で、まったく異なる一面を見せつけられ、 本当の「カルチャーショック」を受けることになる。 その対比を際立たせるためにも、ここはあっさり訳し飛ばして ほしくない箇所だと思いました。