Prose Style Concern

[MSadiq]

Ah, this is the beauty of jewelry combined with clothing from those parts of the world. It is stunning, and yes it does give the sense or impression of a mirage.

In my mind, I meant to convey that they were really close to him, close enough to reach his vitals, just like how a necklace is very close to a really vital part of the body, but there's distance between the neck and the necklace, which is the dare not approach part.

 

[Mad Swede]

Bingo. Languages aren't inventories of slightly different sounds with slightly different ways of saying the same thing. There are almost no words in any language that map into another. That's why, for example, when translate int English, I use phrase or synonyms. This part, "his presence required trepidation and demanded reverence," is just me trying to convey the word هيبة/haybah, which in English they translate as prestige, but that's completely wrong. The word kin doesn't have an Arabic counterpart, either, and so on.

A translation is the the translator's comprehension of a text from one language rendered in another language. This rendering tries to be as close to the original text as it can.

I recognise that. I'd interpret haybah as vördnad if I was translating into Swedish, and I'd be using the word vördnad in it's fullest sense. But there's no way I could easily translate it into English without losing some of that sense of awe which vördnad and haybah convey.

 

[MSadiq]

This metaphor is interesting, but conflicting. A necklase on a girl's neck would be very close, literally touching her skin. But then you say they dared not approach. So it's a conflicting message. Perhaps try a different metaphor, eg. "hyenas circling a wounded lion"?

Good point. It's a metaphor I'm used to, and its implications are hard-baked into my mind, so I didn't think about it in this way.

 

[Mad Swede]

In my mind, I meant to convey that they were really close to him, close enough to reach his vitals, just like how a necklace is very close to a really vital part of the body, but there's distance between the neck and the necklace, which is the dare not approach part.

Yes, I got that when I read it. That's what I'm trying to say, if you haven't seen the combinations of jewelry and clothing you get in your part of the world then you might not understand how there can be a sort of distance between neck and necklace. It's really hard to explain.

 

[MSadiq]

I recognise that. I'd interpret haybah as vördnad if I was translating into Swedish, and I'd be using the word vördnad in it's fullest sense. But there's no way I could easily translate it into English without losing some of that sense of awe which vördnad and haybah convey.

Old English has a cognate for it: weorðmynd. I'm not sure the meanings match, though. I'm actually trying to learn Old English because my power system relies in some ways on the semantics of a word.

 

[MSadiq]

Yes, I got that when I read it. That's what I'm trying to say, if you haven't seen the combinations of jewelry and clothing you get in your part of the world then you might not understand how there can be a sort of distance between neck and necklace. It's really hard to explain.

They can also be very stupendous. Just copy-paste كرسي جابر into Google Images.

 

[AlexS]

If you lived there that long I have to ask why you think MSadiq needs to change his prose style? Sure, you could write it all in a western style, but what is wrong with taking the reader away into the setting using a different prose style? Challenge them, engage them, draw them in. Yes, as a reader you have to do a bit of work, but why not?

He asked, I answered. It's up to him what to do with my answer, I don't insist. But notably, I answered him, not you.

 

[Mad Swede]

He asked, I answered. It's up to him what to do with my answer, I don't insis. But notably, I answered him, not you.

But I'm asking you. And no you don't have to answer, but that in itself would also be an answer...

 

[Finchbearer]

Ah, this is the beauty of jewelry combined with clothing from those parts of the world. It is stunning, and yes it does give the sense or impression of a mirage.

No, I didn’t even think about it being next to the skin, why I don’t know. MSadiq description of how that metaphor is used in Arabic culture is even more interesting because it fuses many things together that just don’t exist in my culture.

 

[MSadiq]

We'd write something similar in Swedish, so I don't have a problem with the original wording.

Old English would use a similar construction, too. I guess Swedish still uses more archaic Germanic features. Funnily, as I read translations of some Old English texts, I see some of the same stylistic choices of Arabic reflected in it, like parallelisms, which modern English speakers would perceive as redundant, or the presenting of information as fact then giving reasons without a real introduction at the beginning, and so on, just like I did now.

Does Swedish still use kennings? Like calling the sea whale-road and so on? In Arabic there's desert-ship for camel. There's also nicknaming, like a very famous poet is called Al-Farazdaq, which means dough ball because he's pale and his face is round. His name is Hammam, lol. Or how, at least in my village, people call someone who's foolish wall-crasher (roughly. It's wall-er-y, but they mean that he crashes into walls), as he metaphorically walks into walls because of his foolishness.

 

[Finchbearer]

Old English would use a similar construction, too. I guess Swedish still uses more archaic Germanic features. Funnily, as I read translations of some Old English texts, I see some of the same stylistic choices of Arabic reflected in it, like parallelisms, which modern English speaker would perceive as redundant, or the presenting of information as fact than giving reasons without a real introduction at the beginning, and so on.

Does Swedish still use kennings, like calling the sea whale-road and so on? In Arabic there's desert-ship for camel. There's also nicknaming, like a very famous poet is called Al-Farazdaq, which means dough ball because he's pale and his face is round. His name is Hammam, lol. Or how, at least in my village, people call someone who's foolish wall-crasher, as he metaphorically walks into walls because of his foolishness.

I’m being rude here possibly, but I just love kennings. Battle-sweat meaning blood etc. just so evocative to me. Have you read pieces from the Exeter book MSadiq ?

I’ve read a few books you may like, Winters in the World by Eleanor Parker and Wild by Amy Jeff’s.

 

[MSadiq]

No, I didn’t even think about it being next to the skin, why I don’t know. MSadiq description of how that metaphor is used in Arabic culture is even more interesting because it fuses many things together that just don’t exist in my culture.

It probably didn't occur to me that it'd be really different in Western cultures because in my mind a necklace is a common item, but it's usually those common but artisanal and artistic items that change from culture to culture. I should keep this in mind.

 

[MSadiq]

I’m being rude here possibly, but I just love kennings. Battle-sweat meaning blood etc. just so evocative to me. Have you read pieces from the Exeter book MSadiq ?

I’ve read a few books you may like, Winters in the World by Eleanor Parker and Wild by Amy Jeff’s.

You just opened an old wound. Winters in the World got lost in shipping, and I never got my hands on it...

I haven't read anything from the Exeter Book. Though, I do have Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People, which I still haven't read eitehr. My biggest problem is that I buy faster than I read. I have 30 books that I bought last year, and I'm done with just five them. I read 56 last year, so I'm probably gonna be digging in the remaining 25 for 4-6 months.

Also, I love kennings, too. They might seam redundant to people, when you can call it blood instead of battle-sweat, but it really shifts your perception about blood from gruesome to glorious. It's the natural product of the labor of battle, just like how sweating is the natural labor of working the field, which people view positively as a sign of hard work. You don't get that with just blood.

 

[Mad Swede]

Old English would use a similar construction, too. I guess Swedish still uses more archaic Germanic features. Funnily, as I read translations of some Old English texts, I see some of the same stylistic choices of Arabic reflected in it, like parallelisms, which modern English speaker would perceive as redundant, or the presenting of information as fact than giving reasons without a real introduction at the beginning, and so on.

Does Swedish still use kennings, like calling the sea whale-road and so on? In Arabic there's desert-ship for camel. There's also nicknaming, like a very famous poet is called Al-Farazdaq, which means dough ball because he's pale and his face is round. His name is Hammam, lol. Or how, at least in my village, people call someone who's foolish wall-crasher, as he metaphorically walks into walls because of his foolishness.

Kennings aren't much used in modern Swedish, but do occur in older prose, especially poetry and folk tales. You'd use kennings to keep a rythm as you told the tale to your listeners. My grandmother often used them when she told me folk tales. Nicknaming is alive and well over here, and someone foolish would be called "blåst" (meaning a mind blown clear of thought) or "bakom flötet", literally meaning behind the (fishing line) float (flöte, from the Old Norse fleyti).

 

[Finchbearer]

You just opened an old wound. Winters in the World got lost in shipping, and I never got my hands on it...

I haven't read anything from the Exeter Book. Though, I do have Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People, which I still haven't read eitehr. My biggest problem is that I buy faster than I read. I have 30 books that I bought last year, and I'm done with just five them. I read 56 last year, so I'm probably gonna be digging in the remaining 25 for 4-6 months.

Also, I love kennings, too. They might seam redundant to people, when you can call it blood instead of battle-sweat, but it really shifts your perception about blood from gruesome to glorious. It's the natural product of the labor of battle, just like how sweating is the natural labor of working the field, which people view positively as a sign of hard work. You don't get that with just blood.

I don’t want to rub salt in the wound or maybe I do - I really enjoyed Winters in the World. One thing I remember from that is ‘frosts fetters’. I have to say Wild by Amy Jeff’s was excellent and one I’ll re-read.

Some of the writing from the Exeter book is on The Poetry Foundation; The Seafarer, The Wayfarer and The Wife’s Lament are among my favourites.

I’d also recommend watching the spoken word performance of Beowulf by Benjamin Bagby on YouTube.

 

[skip.knox]

I'll give it my best try. Understand I'm reading as a Westerner.


The man’s almost-corpse dropped with the heaviness of a boulder onto the torrid, scarlet, desert sand, back laced with arrows; from afar, his visage seemed of a giant urchin. Enemies, five hundred strong surrounding him, like a necklace on a girls neck. Still, they did not dare approach a hand span closer; his presence required trepidation and demanded reverence.

"Almost-corpse" interrupted my attention. Does the author mean to say "half-dead"? A corpse is simply dead; before that, it's still a live body. I confess that's a little nit-picky; I report only my own reaction.

"Torrid, scarlet, desert sand" isn't repetitive but it does stack up the adjectives, at which point I immediately ask if each one is doing its share of the work. Admittedly deserts are not exclusively of sand, but most Westerners would picture sand if you said desert. If the previous text had already established the scene was in the desert, I'd drop that and keep sand. That sand could be scarlet, either naturally or stained with blood. That adjective is probably a keeper. Torrid could be established elsewhere, which would leave "scarlet sand" which has a slight alliteration to it, which is nice.

A back laced with arrows also interrupted me. It made me try to picture how one might lace arrows. Lacerated, sure. Stuck full, sure. But laced not only sounds impractical, it's rather a delicate image for a scene of violence.

Lastly in that sentence, urchin confused me. An urchin is a poor person of the streets, usually a child. Also, where the previous imagery draws us close to this figure in the desert, the sentence ends by drawing us back--"from afar."

All of which is to get down to the question of what the author is aiming for here. Is it to evoke horror or astonishment at the brutality of the scene? Feel sympathy for the fallen? Whatever the answer, I'd put each of the clauses in the whole paragraph to the test: does each word pull its weight it evoking the intended sensation?


“Saddlebags swollen with silver and gold,” a man clamored, breaking the noiselessness, “for whoever sunders his head.”
This one works fine.

He was motionless as a mountain, as if the world around him had turned black, a canvas inked to absolute pitchiness, punctuated with blobs of white malign. Eyes shooting him stares of daggers, parched—lusting to spurt from his flesh springs of delicious red.

I'm not at all sure who is meant here. The only one who would seem to be motionless would be the dead man. In which case, being motionless is hardly remarkable, unless he's a creature who has been slain before and has before returned to life. But perhaps it's the man who just spoke, or some other figure on the scene.

Assuming whoever it is would be capable of movement but is now motionless, I can't figure out how the world turning black around him would cause or perpetuate or otherwise illustrated motionlessness. It feels unrelated. Another oddity was "white malign." That word, malign, is a verb.

The second sentence lost me completely. After a bit of thought, I infer that the eyes are those of the people standing around and the "him" is the dead man. It's a fairly conventional metaphor to say someone stared daggers, or variations of that, but from eyes and daggers we then go to mouths and thirst. The two don't go together for me. That's personal reaction, but the second half of the sentence needs fixing. Taking the sentence all together, we have eyes lusting to spurt, and to spurt from his flesh. Is it that those around wish they too could strike the corpse, causing blood to fountain from the wounds?

“Pride, that’s what you lack,” Qais said, walking backwards as he faced Baqir with swagger in his gait, throwing his weight left and right in strut and making wide swings with his fists and drumming them on his chest.
And this one's fine.


And more generally: the scene is good. Some formidable enemy has been taken down. We are in the moment of bloody victory in a dramatic setting (deserts are always dramatic settings, at least for this native of the Pacific Northwest). The notes I offer here are aimed more at word selection, at maintaining tone. I hope to hear more from you and offer you every encouragement.

 

[MSadiq]

I really should've made it clearer. Only the first who paragraphs are part of the same text, while the other two are standalone. They're not excerpts from anything. I just wrote them as if they're part of a larger context, but there's none. All the context is what's in the paragraphs, and the weirdest part, they came out seemingly like they're part of the same text when they're not. I even wrote them at really different times, lol.

"Almost-corpse" interrupted my attention. Does the author mean to say "half-dead"?

It's common to refer to a dying person that he's like a corpse or almost a corpse, so I tried to convey that sense.

urchin confused me

It's urchin as in a sea urchin. I've head it many times being referred to as just urchin. I should've wrote that he's like hedgehog or porcupine, which fits the desert better, too.

Assuming whoever it is would be capable of movement but is now motionless, I can't figure out how the world turning black around him would cause or perpetuate or otherwise illustrated motionlessness. It feels unrelated. Another oddity was "white malign." That word, malign, is a verb.

This is where the different "text" begins, so yeah, it's totally unrelated to the previous two paragraphs, which I should've made clearer than just double spacing. Also, malign is both a verb and an adjective.

It's a fairly conventional metaphor to say someone stared daggers, or variations of that, but from eyes and daggers we then go to mouths and thirst. The two don't go together for me. That's personal reaction, but the second half of the sentence needs fixing. Taking the sentence all together, we have eyes lusting to spurt, and to spurt from his flesh

I was wondering how this would come across, too. In Arabic, it's fairly common to refer to a person or persons as a specific part of the body then ascribe the actions to the part to mean the person or persons, so the eyes are personifications of the people shooting him stares of daggers, so in my mind there's no movement of eyes becoming mouths, but a native speaker's intuition is something that can't be learnt.

The notes I offer here are aimed more at word selection, at maintaining tone. I hope to hear more from you and offer you every encouragement.

Thanks a lot! Your feedback is actually super useful. Second language learners almost always assume because they're competent that they're "native" level, but the gap between competent and native is like the gap between the earth and the sky. Also, you've notified me about something that I didn't think about much: tone. So, hopefully, I'll keep that in mind from now on, insha'Allah.

 

[skip.knox]

Thanks for the thoughtful reply. To clarify my own comments, it wasn't that I thought you were portraying eyes becoming mouths in any literal sense, but rather than we begin with a metaphor having to do with eyes, and then in the next word, the metaphor switches to "parched" which implies thirst and the mouth. And then something spouting which, as I read it, could only refer back to the eyes.

But again, strong writing. Sometimes, the words required to explain the words take more words than did the original writing, and that can easily start to feel like the whole matter is being belabored, which is not at all my intention.

 

[Mad Swede]

OK skip.knox I'll try to illustrate what I mean by the difference between translation and interpretation as a reply to you and MSadiq in our quest for style, rythm and form

I'll give it my best try. Understand I'm reading as a Westerner.


The man’s almost-corpse dropped with the heaviness of a boulder onto the torrid, scarlet, desert sand, back laced with arrows; from afar, his visage seemed of a giant urchin. Enemies, five hundred strong surrounding him, like a necklace on a girls neck. Still, they did not dare approach a hand span closer; his presence required trepidation and demanded reverence.

"Almost-corpse" interrupted my attention. Does the author mean to say "half-dead"? A corpse is simply dead; before that, it's still a live body. I confess that's a little nit-picky; I report only my own reaction.

This is one situation where English doesn't really cut the mustard. In Swedish you'd say "nära döding" to mean a nearly corpse, although I would translate the sentence in keeping with the style and rythm of the prose to read "mannen föll liggandes till sitt yttersta". It's very difficult to get the style across in English...

"Torrid, scarlet, desert sand" isn't repetitive but it does stack up the adjectives, at which point I immediately ask if each one is doing its share of the work. Admittedly deserts are not exclusively of sand, but most Westerners would picture sand if you said desert. If the previous text had already established the scene was in the desert, I'd drop that and keep sand. That sand could be scarlet, either naturally or stained with blood. That adjective is probably a keeper. Torrid could be established elsewhere, which would leave "scarlet sand" which has a slight alliteration to it, which is nice.

The thing about the word torrid is that you're also telling the reader about the time of day. What you convey is that the scene is set at the hottest time of day (which is not necessarily midday), and so indirectly you imply things about the position of the sun and the shadows.

A back laced with arrows also interrupted me. It made me try to picture how one might lace arrows. Lacerated, sure. Stuck full, sure. But laced not only sounds impractical, it's rather a delicate image for a scene of violence.

That depends on what you mean by lace and how you're using the word. I would be aiming to use lace in the context lace cloth in any translation into Swedish, because that way I could use the word "spetsduk" to get both the violence and the image of the pattern of arrows across to the reader. So something along the lines of "ryggen en spetsduk av pilar". Note that this works because "spets" is also the Swedish word for a sharp point (as in arrowhead).

Lastly in that sentence, urchin confused me. An urchin is a poor person of the streets, usually a child. Also, where the previous imagery draws us close to this figure in the desert, the sentence ends by drawing us back--"from afar."

No. An urchin can also be a sea urchin, in which case the metaphor is exact. I'd have translated this into Swedish as "borre" to keep with the prose style.

All of which is to get down to the question of what the author is aiming for here. Is it to evoke horror or astonishment at the brutality of the scene? Feel sympathy for the fallen? Whatever the answer, I'd put each of the clauses in the whole paragraph to the test: does each word pull its weight it evoking the intended sensation?


“Saddlebags swollen with silver and gold,” a man clamored, breaking the noiselessness, “for whoever sunders his head.”
This one works fine.

He was motionless as a mountain, as if the world around him had turned black, a canvas inked to absolute pitchiness, punctuated with blobs of white malign. Eyes shooting him stares of daggers, parched—lusting to spurt from his flesh springs of delicious red.

I'm not at all sure who is meant here. The only one who would seem to be motionless would be the dead man. In which case, being motionless is hardly remarkable, unless he's a creature who has been slain before and has before returned to life. But perhaps it's the man who just spoke, or some other figure on the scene.

Assuming whoever it is would be capable of movement but is now motionless, I can't figure out how the world turning black around him would cause or perpetuate or otherwise illustrated motionlessness. It feels unrelated.

I do get it. But this is because I've been in some fairly unpleasant situations myself so I understand the reaction.

Another oddity was "white malign." That word, malign, is a verb.

I'd have written "malign white" for clarity, but it doesn't have quite the rythm.

The second sentence lost me completely. After a bit of thought, I infer that the eyes are those of the people standing around and the "him" is the dead man. It's a fairly conventional metaphor to say someone stared daggers, or variations of that, but from eyes and daggers we then go to mouths and thirst. The two don't go together for me. That's personal reaction, but the second half of the sentence needs fixing. Taking the sentence all together, we have eyes lusting to spurt, and to spurt from his flesh. Is it that those around wish they too could strike the corpse, causing blood to fountain from the wounds?

I read that as a complex metaphor where the hatred in the eyes is such that the people doing the staring really want to hurt the man they're staring at. Not only are they staring daggers, they're so keen to hurt the man that they're lusting for blood with the desperation of a thirsty man in the desert. It works for me. But then I read it as a form of kennning and I've heard similar things in the Swedish folk tales my grandmother told me.

“Pride, that’s what you lack,” Qais said, walking backwards as he faced Baqir with swagger in his gait, throwing his weight left and right in strut and making wide swings with his fists and drumming them on his chest.
And this one's fine.


And more generally: the scene is good. Some formidable enemy has been taken down. We are in the moment of bloody victory in a dramatic setting (deserts are always dramatic settings, at least for this native of the Pacific Northwest). The notes I offer here are aimed more at word selection, at maintaining tone. I hope to hear more from you and offer you every encouragement.

Yes, I like the prose too. I like the rythm it has, it comes across as something you're tell an audience aloud.

 

[MSadiq]

To clarify my own comments, it wasn't that I thought you were portraying eyes becoming mouths in any literal sense, but rather than we begin with a metaphor having to do with eyes, and then in the next word, the metaphor switches to "parched" which implies thirst and the mouth. And then something spouting which, as I read it, could only refer back to the eyes.

It's just that I'm very used to these kinds of extended metaphors that it didn't cross my mind that it could be interpreted how you did, which is something to keep in mind. As I said, you're a native; I'm not; your understanding of the text is more comprehensive than mine will ever be. That's just the fact of being native.

Sometimes, the words required to explain the words take more words than did the original writing, and that can easily start to feel like the whole matter is being belabored, which is not at all my intention

I didn't take it that way at all. I truly appreciate your feedback. That's one of the problems of textual communication; sometimes, are intentions aren't very clear, and so I choose to interpret what you say cordially, and even if it weren't, who am I to complain? I asked for feedback, not praise, and you gave me feedback, and I'm grateful to that regardless if it is well-intended, which it is, or ill-intended, which it is not.