Men jostle and climb to, meet the bristling fire. Lines of grey, muttering faces, masked with fear
Alvin Thomas Knost
This is a photo of my dad, Alvin (“Al”) Thomas Knost sometime around 1972.
Al served in the Army Medical Corps during World War II. Three days after the D Day invasion, his unit was sent from England to Normandy Beach to pick up all the dead and wounded. They continued to follow the troops as they marched through France and into Germany where they encountered the survivors of the Holocaust.
After the war ended, dad returned to the states and resumed his life. He married, apprenticed to become a plumber and had three daughters. Dad died in 1985. While he was live he rarely spoke about his personal experiences in the war but the few times he did, he cried.
Give me love, give me peace on earth…no one says it better than George Harrison:
On being asked for a War Poem BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS I think it better that in times like these A poet’s mouth be silent, for in truth We have no gift to set a statesman right; He has had enough of meddling who can please A young girl in the indolence of her youth, Or an old man upon a winter’s night.
Download original file 484 × 600 px jpg View in browser You can attribute the author Show me how More details 1900 portrait by John Butler Yeats
CLINA publishes articles and reviews on translation, interpreting and intercultural communication in two monographic issues per year with accepted proposals after a double-blind review process.
PERIODICITY OF CLINA: TWO ISSUES PER YEAR
LENGTH OF ARTICLES: 6,000-8,000 words (all inclusive)
LENGTH OF REVIEWS: 2,000-2,500 (all inclusive)
LANGUAGES OF THE JOURNAL: ENGLISH AND SPANISH
CURRENT CALL FOR PAPERS (to be published in 2016): Narrative, Social Narrative Theory and Translation Studies Sue-Ann Harding (ed.) sharding@qf.org.qa Full papers to be submitted by 30 SEPTEMBER 2015
Ever since Mona Baker’s ground-breaking monograph, Translation and Conflict: A Narrative Account (Routledge, 2006), there has been a growing interest, particularly amongst emerging scholars, in the use of social narrative theory as a conceptual and analytical tool for the investigation of translation, translations and translators. The diversity of applications in the field of translation and interpreting studies, including the areas of activism and social networks, fansubbing, geo-politics, global and online media, literature, localization, theatre studies, refugee and asylum studies, violent political conflict etc., is demonstrative of the rich potential of social narrative theory to interrogate and explain the purposes, effects and consequences of translation in our world(s). At the same time, there remains a need to thoroughly and critically engage with the theory itself, in order for it to become an ever more refined and coherent tool. The work of the communication theorists on which Baker first drew (e.g. Somers and Gibson, Bruner, and Fisher), as well as related theories such as complexity theory, metaphor, network theory and, of course, narratology, have much to offer to social narrative in terms of vocabulary, concepts and definitions.
This special issue aims to bring together the most recent scholarship in translation, interpreting and intercultural studies that draws explicitly on narrative and the tools of social narrative theory. We are interested in, and welcome, contributions that apply social narrative theory to new data, that use new methodologies in the application of the theory, and that not only use social-narrative theory as an analytical tool but also engage with and develop the theory itself, seeking to deepen and expand on the models already explored in the literature. In addition, we are also very interested in the work of narrative scholars who may not necessarily identify with the field of translation studies but are, nevertheless, working with translations, translators and/or intercultural communication.
For questions, please contact Sue-Ann Harding at sharding@qf.org.qa.
The Apotheosis of War (1871) by Vasily Vereshchagin
The adventure in my next tale The Bretons made into a lai Called “Laustic,” I’ve heard them say, In Brittany; in French they call The “laustic” a “rossignol” And in good English, “nightingale.”
Near St. Malo there was a town (Somewhere thereabouts) of great renown.
Marie de France, from an illuminated manuscript now in the Bibliothèque nationale de France: BnF, Arsenal Library, Ms. 3142 fol. 256.
My mother died this past February. She was 92. My father died in 1985. He had been a medic during World War II. He landed in Normandy three days after the initial invasion picking up the dead and wounded from the beaches through France and into Germany. His last assignment was at a concentration camp. I don’t know where as he never spoke of it. My mother said he had nightmares for a long while after the war ended and he returned home. He would wake up screaming, “They all want their moms.”
Every hour, she thinks, someone for whom the war was a memory falls out of the world.
—From All The Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
I just finished reading Doerr’s sad but lovely book about a blind girl, a mechanical wizard and two lives caught in an inexplicable time. Much of the book takes place in St. Malo-an historic town almost completely destroyed by the Allies in 1944. If you haven’t read this award-winning novel yet—you must.
“Saint-Malo Novembre 2011 (10)” by Moustachioed Womanizer – Own work. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons –
A Matter of Husbands by Ferenc Molnar (1878-1952), as translated by Benjamin Glazer
FAMOUS ACTRESS: You wished to see me?
EARNEST YOUNG WOMAN: [She gulps emotionally] Yes.
FAMOUS ACTRESS: What can I do for you?
EARNEST YOUNG WOMAN: [Extends her arms in a beseeching gesture] Give me back my husband!
FAMOUS ACTRESS: Give you back your husband!
June 1, 2014
For June first day, I decided to mix it up and select a one-act play. I’ve been googling around looking up everything Hungarian in preparation for my upcoming trip to Budapest and discovered Ferenc Molnar. #lateantiquitystudiesbudapest2014
Born in Budapest, Molnar emigrated to the United States during World War II. His most popular play is Liliom, which was letter adapted into the musical Carousel.
For some Sunday morning inspiration, here is “You’ll Never Walk Alone” from Carousel a la Celtic Woman.
I read the first part of A Matter of Husbands to the horse this morning. He seemed to like it.
