Translating Portuguese fantasy fiction
for the international literary market
Anna Zakrzewska
Trabalho de Projeto de Mestrado em Tradução
Especialização em Inglês
Orientador: Karen Bennett
November 2017
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Evolução de Na'A: Um Protagonista Mágico e Suas Habilidades, Notas de aula de Tradução
Este documento contém 8.529 palavras e descreve a evolução de um personagem principal, incluindo suas habilidades mágicas. Na'a monta seu cavalo e observa uma possível miragem. Uma flecha passa perto dele, assustando seu cavalo. Na'a foge entre as pilas e sente o vento suspirando. Ele lembra de Astrid lutando na sala dos aprendizes. Na'a se dirige para a coluna de luz, arrastando as cores das pedras preciosas. A escuridão cai sobre o deserto e Na'a se refugia na oásis dos nativos. Ele se deita na sombra de uma palmeira para descansar.
Tipologia: Notas de aula
2022
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Translating Portuguese fantasy fiction
for the international literary market
Anna Zakrzewska
Trabalho de Projeto de Mestrado em Tradução
Especialização em Inglês
Orientador: Karen Bennett
November 2017
AGRADECIMENTOS
I am incredibly grateful to Karen Bennett, for her support, kind words, and patience. I would like to thank the people without whom this project would never be completed: Christian Wildt, Tomás Reis, Nick Reid, André Moreira, and the happy bunch from P10. And above all, I am extremely grateful to my mother and to Miguel Condesso for the encouragement.
PALAVRAS-CHAVE: tradução de fantasia, tradução comercial, mercado literário internacional, Skopostheorie KEYWORDS: fantasy translation, commercial translation, international literary market, Skopos theory
Table of Contents
- Introduction
- Translation of the chapter “O Deserto”
- Translation of the chapter “A Ilha”
- Background information and pre-translation analysis
- 4.1. The Prophecy – the pre-translation analysis
- 4.1.1. Extra-textual features
- 4.1.2. Intra-textual features
- Profit-oriented character of the publication
- 5.1. Adaptation of the Source Text to Target Culture Conventions
- 5.1.1. The Prophecy – Coherence of emotive and emphatic distribution
- 5.1.2. The Prophecy – Ambiguities and confusing logical sequences
- Language varieties
- 6.1. The Prophecy : Simplified dialect of Kuburtus
- 6.2. The Prophecy: Nautical jargon and Old Salt’s idiolect
- Proper Names
- 7.1.1. The Prophecy. Proper Names: Copy
- 7.1.2. The Prophecy. Proper Names: Recreation
- 7.1.3. The Prophecy. Proper Names: Rendition
- 7.1.4. The Prophecy. Proper Names: Additional category – Adaptation
- Proper Names
- Conclusions
- REFERENCES
- Apêndice A: A Profecia - “O Deserto”
- Apêncide B: A Profecia – “A Ilha”
- Introduction In 2016, in Lisbon, a new fantasy book was released on the Portuguese literary market: A Profecia. The story resorts to classic fantasy motifs. It narrates the journey of a young elf, Na’Akano, to become a wizard and discover his full magic potential. He has to prevent the dark sorcerer, Davdak, from taking over the world. The key to salvation is hidden in an ancient Prophecy. Meanwhile, Carlos, a Portuguese Physics Engineer, living in the mimetic world, has to face inexplicable events and discover how he is bonded with the magical land and the words of Prophecy. The book was self-published by a novice writer, António Costeira, via the publisher Edições Viera da Silva. It was received warmly among the enthusiasts of the genre: the initial run of 300 copies was sold out in a few weeks, and the author gained popularity among the local press. Neither did it pass unnoticed in the social media, since positive reviews appeared on thematic blogs. However, the writer was convinced that a wider propagation was improbable, because of the biased attitude of the Portuguese audience towards the fantasy genre. The public response to fantasy publications tends to be more enthusiastic, when the literature already enjoys an international standing. These developments led to the subsequent step – the attempt to reach a broader readership by expanding into the international literature market. The translator’s core task consisted of translating the novel in question into English for the Anglophone readership. The selected language variety was British English due to, among others, numerous cultural similarities, historical and contemporary relations between the countries, and the increasing interest of British society in Portugal’s affairs and its culture (as shown by numerous articles in The Guardian ). For the purpose of this project, only two chapters are presented: The Desert (“O Deserto”) and The Island (“A Ilha”). The former contains 8, words and describes the evolution of one of the protagonists of the story, also in terms of his supernatural abilities. The latter, containing 6,825 words, is considered by the author one of the most emotive and vivid, due to a “visualization” effect. These translated chapters, along with a synopsis of the whole work, will later serve as a proposal for an English publisher.
To accomplish the aforementioned task, it was necessary to undertake prior preparatory measures such as background research, translation-oriented ST analysis, formulation of the translation norms of the TT in the context of a profit-oriented publication, together with determining the target readership’s expectations. After collecting this information, it was possible to make choices the translation strategies. During the process of translation, certain problematic issues were identified, which will be discussed in the consequent parts of this commentary.
- Translation of the chapter “O Deserto”
The Desert
The sky map of the stars had always fascinated Na’Akano. However, now in the desert they seemed to glow differently. Or, perhaps, these days he could see them in a new light. 'The stars were not brought forth here by the whim of the gods,' Astrid had once said to him. 'They are part of the creation and, among other things, they show us the way whenever there are no other references, for instance, as in the desert.' And such was the case now. After answering the desperate plea of Edgard, the Duke of Deerhurst, Drellïas was asked to help him as his new military commandant. Upon accepting the challenge, he had gone on his way. Na’A was pondering over these matters, while the cold nocturnal sand was sliding, inertly, from beneath his horse's hooves. The sparse, yellow city lights had fallen behind a long time ago. He passed through the last thorny acacias and dun bushes which marked the beginning of the arid desert vegetation. As he set foot onto the extensive tract of sand, he tucked himself into a warm blanket and eyed the star he should always keep on his right side. He did not know why, but it was the only star remaining still, always in the same place while the others drifted past. It was the Mansion Star - the place where the spirits of ancestors rested and helped travellers in finding their destiny. The lacy sky was woven from myriads of stars. Some of them created bizarre senseless shapes; but others, such as the constellations of Aurochs or the Bear, mirrored in the sky the
the dune until he had to go down the steep slope; his horses’ hindquarters almost grazing the scorching sand, which permeated everywhere. The landscape, though barren, was different now. After a night and some hours of a tiring march through the sand without any sleep, he finally reached firm ground. Although he had made adequate preparations, following the advice of his old mistress, the fact was that he had never been in the desert before, which he imagined to be a hot strip of sand without end, where nothing grew and nothing seemed to serve a useful purpose. Nonetheless, the soil had turned stony now, though equally inhospitable, raising more dust than the sand. Here and there, nature had sculpted the rocks into the shapes of great tables and needles of different colours. Still, the heat continued to challenge his endurance. Far away, some arid hills outlined on the horizon, stood before him and his destination. He calculated that it would take approximately one hour to arrive at the first rock formation, the needle-shaped one, which could offer him some shade and rest until the end of the day. Yet, the horse was already showing signs of fatigue. By the time he arrived there, the sun would be at its height, taking away any chance of shade. He decided to camp nearby, at a safe distance from the dune – so as not to be taken by surprise. He drew the waterskin out of the saddlebag and filled his mouth with water, slowly swirling the precious liquid around in his mouth before swallowing. He did it once again and gave the rest to the horse, together with a handful of the oats he took out of a small bag. He freed the animal from the weight of the saddle, and then he skilfully lifted its left leg, at the same time pulling at the reins. The horse lay down compliantly. Na’A covered him with a rug and lay down alongside him, after taking a sip of the nourishing potion prepared for him by Astrid. He was soon fast asleep, lulled by the dreams brought on by the touch of the amulet that he was carrying on his chest. When he awoke, the sun had already passed him and was inclining firmly westwards. He cast his eye over the top of the golden dune he had descended and, unless it was a mirage, thought he glimpsed a slight movement he associated with the feeling of being watched. Whoever he was dealing with, they were still out there somewhere. Nevertheless, he instantly
understood one more thing. He was aware that if somebody wanted to attack him, they could have done so already: this meant their aim was only to follow him - which he could not permit. The forthcoming days confirmed his suspicions. The rise and fall of the dune had been left behind a long time ago. Now, there was only an enormous arid expanse stretching around and it did not allow the three silhouettes following far behind to hide - Na’Akano’s pursuers were spotted, despite keeping a safe distance and riding as slowly as the scorching desert permitted. In the warm, multihued gloaming of the tenth day, when the sun’s torrid influence was fading, Na'Akano rose from between the sea of rocks and dust for one more night on the road. The three pursuers patiently waited for him to set out, confident given their strength in numbers. However, he always began his journey only after identifying the thirteen stars composing the constellation of Sceptre. Let them wait! They wouldn’t lose anything through the delay. Those infernal days had left their mark on the horse, which Na’Akano now led by the reins more often than mounted. He had also lost some weight, but the real problem was that the day before he had emptied the waterskins. He dug a hole in the ground with his dagger, and filled it with small stones. Afterwards, he needed some moments of deep concentration. Through his cracked lips, he managed to murmur: 'Nên'. The tiny pebbles started, very slowly, to release the water from their molecules, which he soaked up with a rag. He repeated the process until he had two waterskins completely filled. Finally, he muttered the magic incantation for the last time and let the horse drink greedily, while he lay down on his back in the dirty dust, recovering from the effort, with a wet cloth over his face. When Na’Akano opened his eyes, the Mansion Star was shining at him so brightly as never before. He stood up, indifferent to the cold which was starting to descend upon the desert night. Then the horse moved between its owner and the star. Na'A, with increasing anxiety, quickly stepped aside. He was appalled by the probability of losing sight of this small bright star, strongly glowing, which appeared a few inches lower down. No, his mind was not playing tricks on him, though it had been tormented by the merciless desert sun. He shifted backwards and sought the
An arrow, cold as the air of the night, cleaved through the darkness and pierced his horse which, with a loud neigh, reared and hurtled between some of the smaller pillars and, all of a sudden, halted moribund a few feet ahead. The second arrow, coming from the opposite side, gashed its neck, knocking him down with a squeal of death, which in the desert was nothing strange. ' Damn it! ' he thought. He had let them overtake him and now he was surrounded. They had decided to get rid of the horse first, thus hindering his escape. Yet, this strategy gave him time to seek shelter. He did not intend to run away, but he no longer had the initiative, which gave his enemies the advantage. Luckily, the bow was already in his hand. Squatting, he stepped into the middle of the spires, zigzagging around them, without stopping. He tried to edge around behind the place where he believed the first arrow had appeared. The sound of the cold nocturnal breeze that had sprung up, whistling through the limestone formations, gave both sides a few moments for a strategic observation. Na'Akano took full advantage. Gliding downwind, he completed a semicircle and distinguished a crouching silhouette, facing away from him. The elf prepared the bow while the figure changed position, just sixteen feet in front of him. ' Great, ' thought Na'Akano, ' He still believes I'm between him and the others '. This presented an opportunity. The moonlight was very strong, so he had to be quick. He put down his bow, then moved swiftly. While the attacker started to make another move, Na’A was already behind him. He covered his pursuer's mouth with his left hand and held the man’s forehead with the right one, twisting sharply, breaking his neck. Then, he picked up his bow and took over the place of his dead enemy. Without any time to mourn, after taking someone's life for the first time, Na’Akano moved to the next pinnacle, as the slain attacker would have done, he supposed. He lifted his head above the column and scrutinized the land. On the other side, the moonlight exposed the figure of the second pursuer, who was trying to tighten the cordon; though it was the other one that started to trouble him. Na'A was able to distinguish that the man was much further away. From there, he was giving the others orders to attack, pushing the prey towards him. He had to be the ringleader. Na'Akano squinted and made out that the man was entirely hooded, with his arms crossed before him. A wizard!
Na’A chose an arrow from the quiver and fitted it onto the bow. On his left, the second attacker was changing position, moving slightly towards him. He stood up and aimed carefully, seeking a straight line between his left shoulder and the hidden figure. He could not fail. He began to draw the bowstring back, slowly and cautiously, until it rested upon his right cheek. He counted some seconds in his mind and then released the arrow. It set out fast and lightly, piercing the cold air before hitting its target in mid-move. He had eliminated the second enemy, but was himself exposed. The obelisk in front of him burst into thousands of pieces when a wave of energy struck it violently. Na'A was tossed several feet backwards, losing his bow. He hurtled down with a great impact into a limestone pillar which crumbled above him. Blinded with pain he could not do anything more but to look at the countless number of little arrows that descended upon him, stemming from a single projectile. One of them succeeded in penetrating the protective ring he had raised around himself, and pierced his thigh. The only sound which interrupted the silence of the desert night was the wailing wind arising from between those small limestone formations. Lying on the ground, unable to move and suffering from immense pain, Na'A was clearly disadvantaged compared to his powerful enemy. Still, the fact that the dark wizard thought he was eliminated was in his favour. His left arm was buried under a pile of stones, but he managed to release his right one. From his inside pocket, all torn, he took a small flask with the mixture for infections and pains. Esthër had once told him it was a formula made from Neem oil and poppy essence, to which she added crushed garlic and onion. One should not consume more than half the flask at once. This was what he did, after removing the piece of wood serving as a lid. Yet, when he looked down at the half full flask, he took the rest in one gulp, letting it fall down, resting his head against the pillar base. The wizard had not abandoned the idea of seeking him, and was carefully approaching, rummaging every single inch of the terrain, just few feet before him. Eventually, he would stumble upon him. Na’Akano began to lose hope of finding a way out, when he heard from the other side a moaning voice, wailing in pain. It was the second man he had struck, now approaching with an arrow still stuck in his arm. The wizard swung back to his companion, shouting and waving his hands. Na'A seized the opportunity. With his right hand, the only free
in which he had fallen many hours before. When he finally opened his eyes, dozens of griffins were dancing banefully around him. He remembered what had happened. With his free hand, he started releasing the trapped arm from under the rubble, moving away stones, one by one, until he felt the pressure ease. He leaned against the remains of the pillar, gasping from the effort. He rubbed his lifeless swollen arm resting on his lap, fixing his eyes on a tiny projectile buried in his thigh. Further away, the griffins were feasting on the horse's carcass, shrieking with satisfaction. When the tingling in his left arm subsided, he pulled out the dagger from his belt, and cut the black fabric of his robe surrounding the arrow. Dark blood had coagulated around the metal. He had been unconscious for many hours. Unconscious or asleep. He should not have taken all the liquid from the flask, despite the horrible pain. He put down the dagger and placed his hands on his thighs, palms up, focusing on the sacral chakra. A pleasurable heat began to run through his legs as the energized blood flowed to the wound site. As the pain stopped, Na'A grasped the dagger again and lacerated the flesh surrounding the arrow. Then, he put two fingers of his left hand around the metal, thrusting them against the thigh, and pulled the arrow with his right hand. Blood spurted from the open gash, immediately stemmed by pressure from his fingers. A healing incantation helped the wound to close, though a dark red halo remained, few inches in diameter, still considerably swollen. The sun was already low when he dared to rise, with an enormous effort. His entire body was sore and dehydrated. He needed water. ' Blast, ' was all he could think, seeing the devastation of the limestone formations. It was quite an explosion. If the stone he had picked up had been slightly bigger, he too would probably have gone to the Mansion. And that is where he would go indeed if he did not get some water urgently. Na’A was not strong enough to extract it from the elements, but he still managed to mentally call the wizard's horse that was observing the griffins' frenzy from a distance. He drew the waterskin, bound to the saddle, and solemnly drank, his parched body greedily demanding each drop as if it were the last one.
The wound site was burning insistently. He washed it with a drop of water, but the purple skin discolouration did not disappear. His clothes were all ripped and he felt more dirty than he could ever have imagined. He took off the rags and put on a clean garment, which he kept rolled up on the saddle. As he unfolded it, he realized, astonished, that on the back was embroidered the same symbol that he had seen many years ago on the mantle of Rasel - the wizard defeated by Astrid at Duke the Fat's court. So after all these were not common soldiers, but wizards sent by Davdak. Did Davdak know about his quest? Were they here for the same reason? Well, right now it did not matter anyway. He put on the cloak, grasped his sword and bow and, limping along, seized the reins, leading the animal out of that labyrinth. He had no difficulties finding the Mansion Star in the firmament, and saw that the small celestial body he had seen yesterday continued its prophetic journey and had already moved a bit closer. It was different from the other stars. Nevertheless, he was not able to distinguish its shape well. He looked at the Sceptre and estimated, based on the distance covered since yesterday, that he still had one week left of travel. He was getting ready to mount when someone behind him called out in a slurred voice of suffering: 'Master, help me'. He swung round and made out, in the moonlight, the shape of the man that he had struck with his arrow, and who had ended up saving his life. The soldier was sitting on the ground, leaning against a half pillar that was still standing. He looked terrible, greatly debilitated, yet, still alive. ' Was he made of iron? ' he thought. His pursuer had had an arrow in the arm for dozens of hours; he had been caught in an explosion, then by the cold of the night, and... he was still alive? Na'A wanted to ignore this cry for help and continue his journey, when it occurred to him that this soldier was confusing him with his own master. He pulled up his hood and turned towards the wretch. By speaking mentally, he aimed to avoid being betrayed by his voice, therefore trying to imitate the harshness of the words that he remembered the wizard had used before: ' Aren't you dead yet? I don't have any time to waste - the star has already appeared ,' he ventured. He did not notice any sign of surprise in this man, neither for using the mental voice, nor for the allusion to the star. The man responded out loud:
visible on his face along with several abrasions. Besides, he still had to bear the night's cold. Na’A did, however, what he thought was the best. If the soldier survived and managed to get to the Royal Heron, he would spread a rumour. Looking up, he measured the distance between the Mansion and the Sceptre high above, and directed the horse towards the middle. He rode slowly through the night and the ensuring ones. It was getting more and more difficult to withstand the cold of the night and the heat of the day. In the wizard's saddlebag, he had found some small flasks with potions that he was now rationing, but none of them seemed to produce any effect on the scarlet gash on his leg, which was spreading outwards and disabling him. It was quite swollen, and showing marks of infection. He struggled to recall the healing incantation, which turned out to be ineffective. The arrow must have been laced with some kind of poison that he did not know; the undulations of those arid hills that were in his way caused waves of pain to career through his whole body. The fever was clouding his mind. He rode bent in the saddle, with his arms hanging down, without any willpower, nor control over the horse. He was coming to an untimely end. Many times he almost fell off, but managed to hang on at the last moment. It looked that the darned wizard always got his own way. Wizard? But what wizard? Ah, the one who wanted to kill him. But he was alive! Or was he already at the Mansion? No, it couldn’t be the Mansion, it was too hot for that. Yes, now he could remember - he was playing with SuÄni and it was a very hot day, that's why they decided to swim in the river, but when they arrived at the river it turned into the sea of flames that swallowed his sister. He tried to run away, but his steed was quite old and wouldn’t move. When he spurred it on, the animal fell over onto its side, dragging him down with it. The impact of the fall that dragged him a few feet down the hill, brought him back from the depths of delirium into which he had plunged. The dawn broke. He was cold, extremely thirsty and out of breath: but with his back glued to the ground he forgot for a while about his suffering. Right above him, where his gaze rested, there appeared printed on the sky the shape of half an egg with three rippling flames coming from it. It was the same symbol as that embroidered on the back of the wizard's tunic. It was a representation of Eòlas. So Davdak knew as much or even
more than Astrid did! Still, it was he, Na'A, who was here at the right time, not the accursed wizard. He sat down with effort. Later, as the sun was trying to throw the first sunbeam of the day, he staggered to his feet, trying to put his weight on one leg only. He was extremely weak and when he lifted his head, towards Eòlas, he lost his balance and fell down again. Lying down, he looked at the sun breaking through the barrier of the horizon, shedding the light directly upon the comet and trying to cast it out of its space. The explosion from the impact almost blinded him. Eòlas defended itself against the sun by deflecting its light towards the earth, creating a sort of light beam. Slightly below, at the point where two hills' met, an old dried-out bush started to burn, as the multi-coloured light reached it. Few people, or maybe even no one, had witnessed the titanic battle between those forces of nature. Na'A got to his feet with a great effort. When he realized that the sun would inexorably win that battle, he began to head towards the column of light, hopping on one leg and dragging the other one behind. When Eòlas was nothing more than a blot in the sky and the beam of light a tenuous thread about to disappear, Na'A mustered the last of his forces to make one impossible leap, and threw himself in the midst of that patch of light. Suddenly, it went out. Na’A disappeared. And the sun finally reclaimed the day. ≠ Suspended in the air, Na'A was plunged in total darkness. His dazed mind and lethargic body floated in the dimensionless space, in the undefined nothingness that stretched throughout eternity. Without gravity, his body floated unconscious in that surreal environment – abstracted from the reality that had known. He saw it gently come to rest upon the stone altar in the centre