Translating a People
Translation is at best an echo.
George Borrow
A great age of literature is perhaps always a great age of translation.
Ezra Pound
One of the best things that happened to me upon my parents moving back to Nicaragua—when I was eleven years old—was that I ceased being the translator. My mother’s English-language skills were limited. Because of this, whenever we’d brave the streets of Los Angeles without my bilingual father, the moment my mother encountered a linguistic puzzle beyond her capacity to solve, she’d gently push me before the interlocutor to act as her interpreter. Although I found the experience interesting at first, after a few years stuck at the job, translating became a chore.
Thus, once we moved to her homeland, where she didn’t require my services any longer, the freedom was exhilarating.
Yet, ironically, today, as a novelist—and I suspect it’s also the case with other Latino and Latina writers—I’m once again fully engaged in a variant of the act of translation.
From the moment I took my first trip to my parents’ homeland—at the age of seven—I became acutely aware that Nicaragua and Nicaraguans were a land and a people vastly different from the United States and its populace. I found the landscape of Nicaragua— physical and human—mesmerizing. Nicaraguans were open to an extent I’d never experience, and their joy toward life was contagious. But at the same time there was an underlying sadness—manifested in a acceptance of their lot that to this day I find baffling—brought on by poverty and by centuries of never-ending political turmoil.
During my Nicaraguan adolescence, I grew to adore the country and its people. I gladly shed my American skin and embraced a new identity as a full-fledged Nicaraguan. I fit in perfectly, and loved almost every minute of the seven years I lived in my ancestral homeland.
When I returned to Los Angeles, at age eighteen, to attend college, I soon learned that what I wanted to do, more than anything: it was to explain the sights, sounds, tastes, relationships, and experiences I had in Nicaragua to anyone who was willing to listen. Of course, conveying these things over lunch was impossible—I could only produce the distant echo George Borrow spoke of when referring to everything that is lost in translation.
Yet I always knew, instinctively, that the best way to inform Americans about their Nicaraguan brethren—we do share a continent, after all—would be through the written word. The problem was that I had no idea what I needed to do to become a writer. Blindly, I plunged into the study of literature—in Spanish—and eventually earned a doctorate. But that was of little help at the time in bringing the Nicaraguan experience to an American audience.
The turning point, though, was waiting for me right around the corner: I was introduced to U.S. Latino and Latina literature—a literature written primarily in English by authors with backgrounds similar to mine. Their work struck me like a bolt of lightning, and I started to read their production voraciously.
The climax of this odyssey, the moment where a light descended upon my thirsty soul to reveal the key to rendering my love for Nicaragua onto the blank page, came after I read Julia Alvarez’s In the Time of the Butterflies. Through that example, as well as others penned by equally talented Latino and Latina writers, I learned how to retrieve stories from parents’ homeland—originally experienced in Spanish—and reinterpret them for an English-language readership.
This is what I did in my first novel, Bernardo and the Virgin, and I’ve done it again in Meet Me under the Ceiba. I lifted events and wrote them in a manner that English-speaking readers can hopefully make their own.
Now the circle feels complete. I am back where I started: translating other people’s experiences. Admittedly, it’s a different type of translation than what I did for my mother. But it’s a kind of interpreting I truly love.
About the author:
SILVIO SIRIAS is the author of a novel, Bernardo and the Virgin (Northwestern University Press, 2007), and he has written and edited several books on Latino/a literature, including Julia Alvarez: A Critical Companion (Greenwood Press, 2001) and Conversations with Rudolfo Anaya (University Press of Mississippi, 1998). He received his doctorate in Spanish from the University of Arizona and worked as a professor of Spanish and U.S. Latino/a literature for several years before returning to live in Nicaragua in 1999. He currently lives in Panama.
About Meet Me Under the Ceiba
This affectionate portrayal of a small Nicaraguan town reveals humanity in all its beauty and ugliness
“I’m not afraid of that old man,” Adela once told her niece. But everyone in the small town of La Curva, Nicaragua, knew that the wealthy land owner, Don Roque Ramírez, wanted Adela Rugama dead. And on Christmas Day, Adela disappeared. It was two months before her murdered body was found.
An American professor of Nicaraguan descent spending the summer in his parents’ homeland learns of Adela’s murder and vows to unravel the threads of the mystery. The suspense builds as he patiently interviews the townspeople and extracts their intriguing and often outlandish accounts of Adela’s life and death in this backwater town. It quickly becomes apparent that Adela—a hard-working campesina who never learned to read and write—and Don Roque had one thing in common: the beautiful Ixelia Cruz. The love of Adela’s life, Ixelia was one of Don Roque’s many possessions until Adela lured her away.
The interviews with Adela’s family, neighbors, and former lovers shed light on the circumstances of her death and reveal the lively community left reeling by her brutal murder, including: Adela’s older sister Mariela and her five children, who spent Christmas morning with Adela, excitedly unwrapping the gifts their beloved aunt brought them that fateful day; her neighbor and friend, Lizbeth Hodgson, the beautiful mulata who early in their relationship rejected Adela’s passionate advances; Padre Uriel, who did not welcome Adela to mass because she loved women; Adela’s former lover Gloria, the town’s midwife, who is forever destined to beg her charges to name their newborn daughters Adela.
Through stories and gossip that expose jealousies, scandals, and misfortunes, Sirias lovingly portrays the community of La Curva, Nicaragua, in all its beauty and ugliness. The winner of the Chicano / Latino Literary Prize, this spellbinding novel captures the essence of a world rarely seen in American literature.
Leave a comment (with your contact info) for a chance to win a copy of Meet Me Under the Ceiba.
Check out the author's complete virtual book tour schedule:
Jan 11: Book-Lover Carol http://bookluver-carol.blogspot.com/
Jan 12: Brown Girl Speaks www.browngirl.weebly.com/book-speak.html
Jan 13: Regular Ruminations www.regularrumination.wordpress.com
Jan 14: The Tranquilo Traveler http://blog.joshuaberman.net/
Jan 15: Pisti Totol www.pistitotol.wordpress.com
Jan 18: Mama XXI www.mamaxxi.blogspot.com
Jan 19: Farm Lane Books http://www.farmlanebooks.co.uk/
Jan 20: Sandra's Book Club http://sandrasbookclub.blogspot.com/
Jan 21: Latino Books Examiner www.examiner.com/x-6309-Latino-Books-Examiner
Jan 22: Una in a Million http://unainamillion.blogspot.com
Comments
Silvio, you write so eloquently about experiences so many of us Latino/as share, first, as translators to our parents and again, in the difficulty of relaying our emotions that lay intertwined within the experiences of another country and culture.
We, as readers, are lucky you found the wonderful medium of literature to share your experiences with the world. Thank you!
Thank you, Nilki.
Your comment has made my day!
Silvio
I so enjoy reading of your experiences in NI. I, even though an American, feel a special bond with NI, also. Having lived there was a treasured experience for me. I learned more of actual living with hardships that I had never experienced. I also learned of living with a people, who in spite of their hardships, made me feel very warm and included me into their lives in a sincere and loving way. Thank you for "Bernardo and the Virgin" and "Meet Me Under the Ceiba."
Thank you, Jacqueline. Another comment to help make it a great day! :)
I think my kids would sympathize with you. I, like your mother, often 'use' them to speak French or Flemish when I run across trouble trying to speak these languages myself.
Great post! It's an honor having you here on Latino Books Examiner!
Hi, Mayra! The thrill is all mine. Thank you for having me again. I still treasure the interview you conducted with me a while back. Anytime you need a guest post on Latino Books Examiner, just let me know.
Silvio
P.S. Your children will be the better for your nudging them forward. ;-)
Writers usually live on the edges of society, a vantage point from which they can see the rest of humanity more clearly. Thank you for sharing your vision in this article and in your novels, Silvio.
Raul, how nice of you to drop by! For those of you who may not know, Raul is another fabulous U.S. Latino novelist. Learn more about him. This comment box doesn't allow links, but I urge everyone to learn more about Raul's work at raulramos.com
Your praise touches me, Raul,
Silvio
I guess I am part of the world, I am neither Latino or American but I fell in love with your novel already. I think a good story, the well-written ones, can go beyond any kind of boundaries. And I have a feeling that the cultural backgrounds, the warmth of the people, the hard of the living in Nicaragua were not that much of a difference than in Indonesia. So, it makes me feel like I am somehow related to that. Thank you again, Silvio, for writing such a beautiful novel that can touch my heart.
T
Thank you, Adeline. I do believe that our cultures share many similarities. I am thrilled that my stories have touched you.
Yours,
Silvio
I guess I am part of the world, I am neither Latino or American but I fell in love with your novel already. I think a good story, the well-written ones, can go beyond any kind of boundaries. And I have a feeling that the cultural backgrounds, the warmth of the people, the hard of the living in Nicaragua were not that much of a difference than in Indonesia. So, it makes me feel like I am somehow related to that. Thank you again, Silvio, for writing such a beautiful novel that can touch my heart.
T
I'm Nicaraguan and I couldn't take more pride in reading about my country, our landscapes, culture and all the other very fine traits that make us who we are. Also, I couldn't be more thankful for Dr. Sirias' work because he's given us something invaluable: the chance to be remembered, and in our case, to be remembered differently. When reading Bernardo and the Virgin, I remember telling my friends at the time (this was amidst the controversial 2008 municipal elections, and also at a time when Meet Me Under la Ceiba was getting lots of attention) that I was glad somewhere a Nicaraguan was putting our country's name up high, and, for a change, our country was in the spotlight for issues other than our poverty levels, natural disasters or our flaming politics.
(continues in next comment...this is limited to a 1000 characters including spaces) :)
Dr. Sirias, I wonder how you feel about how your work will be judged/valued by Nicaraguans. I mean, the majority – those who've never left the country, who do not share your bi-culturalism, and who would probably question your political views (in the end, you're also a gringo, and therefore, the reason for all our woes), or those who will be slightly offended for the fact that you chose to publish in English and not in Spanish. After all, this is a country that also takes great pride in its poets and writers, all of whom –if I am not mistaken– have published first in Spanish. (Apologies if this came out too blunt, but I tried to reflect as best as I could our patriotism, anti-imperialism, and over zealous nature)
Do you feel your work will be embraced as the work of a Nicaraguan or a gringo?
Thanks again to the host and for allowing us to be part of this tour!
Hello again, Sandra Mariela,
First of all, thank you for yet another visit on this tour; and thank you for the kind words you wrote in your introduction.
I have often wondered how my fiction would be received in Nicaragua. And, knowing your compatriots pretty well, I think the majority of the reading public would be most supportive. Of course, Nicaraguans are polarized thanks to politics and there will be those who will accuse me of writing novels while on the CIA payroll. This will be particularly true with BERNARDO as, in order to stay true to the story, I had to be somewhat critical of La Revolución. But with time I hope my work will be judged on literary merit alone
With regard to writing in English--I have a great precursor, Salomón de la Selva, who in 1918 became the first writer of Latin American descent to publish an English-language collection of poetry in the US: Tropical Town and Other Poems.
So Nicas would have to tear into him first, and he's revered. :)
By the way, Silvio, what was the song you used in the MEET ME UNDER THE CEIBA trailer? And also the one in Bernardo and the Virgin trailer? I cannot help myself but to just replay them over and over. Were you involved in the making of the trailers too? The whole package was indeed a masterpiece of yours. The books, the trailers, and next will be the movies! I am grateful that I am here to witness the whole thing.
Adeline,
The melody for the MEET ME UNDER THE CEIBA trailer is called "Meditaciones" by Carlos Tunnerman Lopez, a Nicaraguan composer of last century. Most Nicas, I bet, are not aware of his work. And the tune for BERNARDO AND THE VIRGIN is called "La mora limpia" and it was written by Justo Santos, a Nicaraguan folklore legend. EVERYONE in Nicaragua knows this song!
Translation & interpretation is never flawed or insignificant when used to share a culture, to experience the Other, with 'the foreign'. It is then that 'the foreign' becomes familiar and fades away.
Gracias Silvio for sharing a bit of Nicaragua with us.
touché! Just don't forget that part of Salomón de la Selva's charm had to do with his birthplace :) On that note, your precursor's subsequent work was written in Spanish. Will we see a Silvio Sirias novel written in Spanish?
Following the tour, reading the hosts'reviews and the comments by the great group of people who are also dropping by each day has been a treat. I've thoroughly enjoyed it.
Teresa,
Your words are beautiful! And coming from a columnist in The National Examiner, you've given me the greatest of compliments.
May I quote you?
Silvio
Sandra Mariela,
Why do you so enjoy putting me against the ropes? A novel in Spanish? I'd be thrilled to work on the translation of my novels, but the conception needs to be in English--less labor pains.
Silvio
Dr. Sirias. It did not get to experience the need for my translation services until I came to study to the US, already a young adult, and my mom came visit. At that moment when I needed to communicate effectively and was responsible for my mother's understanding of directions, explanations or an insignificant joke; I realize how valuable my culture is. I also discovered my two personalities, the English and the Spanish. In Spanish I am outgoing and interesting, relaxed and funny free-spirited and sensual. But in English I am technical and pragmatic. Balancing my two sides has served me well both in my work and my relationships.
You have two sides as well and you have done a magnificent work of portraying your bi-cultural soul in your novels.
Love,
Breyda
Breyda,
Thank you so much for sharing your recent experience with being the interpreter. I firmly believe that being bilingual and bicultural allows us to better experience the beauty of the world.
Thank you for your kind comments.
Abrazos,
Silvio
Silvio, eres muy amable. Por supuesto que puedes usar de lo mio. A tus ordenes, ~Teresa
Gracias,Teresa.
And what a Great Translator you are! It's a captivating story you tell about your past, do you think it calls out mostly to people who are multi-lingual?
Hi, Nimo,
Great that you stopped by, and with a terrific question. I can only answer with another question, can a person be multilingual and yet belong to only one culture? If so, my answer to your question would be that the experiences of my posting mostly call out to people who have also wholeheartedly embraced another culture.
Thanks for dropping in, and I hope you rest well this evening,
Silvio
Hi, Nimo,
Great that you stopped by, and with a terrific question. I can only answer with another question, can a person be multilingual and yet belong to only one culture? If so, my answer to your question would be that the experiences of my posting mostly call out to people who have also wholeheartedly embraced another culture.
Thanks for dropping in, and I hope you rest well this evening,
Silvio
Hi, Nimo,
Great that you stopped by, and with a terrific question. I can only answer with another question, can a person be multilingual and yet belong to only one culture? If so, my answer to your question would be that the experiences of my posting mostly call out to people who have also wholeheartedly embraced another culture.
Thanks for dropping in, and I hope you rest well this evening,
Silvio
Got something to say?
Examiner.com is looking for writers, photographers, and videographers to join the fastest growing group of local insiders. If you are interested in growing your online rep apply to be an Examiner today!