Monday, July 29, 2013

Ocumicho art after 9/11


This is a photo from 2004. Pátzcuaro, el día de muertos. The colorful construction on sale is supposed to represent one of the towers of the World Trade Center. Whatever is glued to the middle of it is meant to be an airplane. The firemen with hoses also belong to the composition. The second tower is wrapped in plastic, in the box behind the sleepy seller.

There are other interesting things at the same stall, such as a scene of the fall of Adam and Eve, together with numerous devils. One glance at the forbidden fruit is enough to see why it had been forbidden.

If this seems sinister, you should have visited the same market last year. Ocumicho artisans by then had found new themes. A fellow hanging another fellow on a tree, the girlfriend of the victim weeping on her knees. Robbers shooting at travelers on a road. And - a model of hell, which looked like Earth on fire, with devils flying around it on thin wires. First place at the artisans' exhibition. 

Alas, photography was not allowed, apparently, in order to prevent pirated copies of hell from appearing on the black market.

A larger photo is here.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Tears, dreams and dung

About 20 years ago the British Council decided to do some missionary work in Russia, and the Moscow Metro got a program similar to Poems on the Underground. Instead of shampoo advertisements some trains started carrying brief English poems together with their Russian translations. 

This did not play out well. The British Council made a critical mistake: they chose the poems first and then commissioned the translations. At least, this is the only explanation I can find for the disaster that ensued. A few brilliant lines by Rupert Brooke

Unkempt about those hedges blows

An English unofficial rose;
And there the unregulated sun
Slopes down to rest when day is done,
And wakes a vague unpunctual star ...

became something that started as

У изгороди, над горой навоза,
пробилась неофициально роза ...


In the translation the rose was not English anymore, nor it was unkempt. On the other hand, a new circumstance appeared: it grew over a pile of dung. I can't really blame the translator, she did what she could. There are few words in Russian that rhyme with rose: tears, dreams and, well, dung. Tears and dreams were, obviously, out of place.

And, indeed, a Russian village often smells stronger than the English countryside. But the commuters were not amused at all.  They did not like reading "this foreign stuff" (as if they could actually read it) and they did not like excrement. After a few months on the orders of the mayor of Moscow the program was terminated and fine English poetry was replaced by standard primary school propaganda, written, apparently, by some loyal Uzbek:

Москва, Москва!.. люблю тебя как сын,
Как русский, - сильно, пламенно и нежно!

Moscow, Moscow, I love you as a son,
As a Russian, etc.


As everything touched by the hand of the Moscow government, this was real crap.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Бродский в Мексике

... Направо
пойдешь - там стоит агава.
Она же - налево. Прямо -
груда ржавого хлама.

Перечитал "Мексиканский дивертисмент".

Иосифу Бродскому в Мексике не понравилось. Поэтому в "Мексиканском дивертисменте" он переврал названия городов,  некоторые другие географические факты, а также имена и этническую принадлежность исторических персонажей.

Первое же стихотворение называется "Гуернавака". Нетрадиционная ошибка, обычно Куэрнаваку неправильно называют "Куэрневакой" (американцы) или "Тегусигальпой" (Михаил Фишман).  Конечно, само название "Куэрнавака", из которого торчат какие-то бессмысленные коровьи рога - плод косноязычия испанцев, не сумевших выговорить "Куаунáуак"; ну да, бог с ней, с Куэрнавакой. Жуткое место. Густо набранное "Ж".

В "мексиканском романсеро" повторяется не раз "вечерний Мехико-Сити". Загадочное название. "Мехико" - по-испански, "Сити" - по-английски, а все вместе - как бы по-русски. Вроде "Нью-Москвы" Остапа Бендера или "Москвы-Сити" Юрия Лужкова, будь он неладен. Вообще, большинство русских говорят "Мехико-Сити". Неужели все Бродского читали?

И так далее. Не очень серьезные ошибки, у других поэтов хуже бывает. Стихи местами хорошие, хотя содержание сводится к тому, что в отсталых странах жизнь внушает тоску:

Куда ни странствуй,
всюду жестокость и тупость воскликнут: "Здравствуй,
вот и мы!"

К сожалению, потом идут выводы:

Все-таки лучше сифилис, лучше жерла

единорогов Кортеса, чем эта жертва.

Речь идет об ацтекских жертвоприношениях, конечно. Спорить не буду, поскольку уже не с кем. Но сифилиса не надо.