Saturday, 8 October 2011

Huge Sambahsa translation of Stendhal available! Also Interlingua, Frenkisch...

Over at the new Joy of Literature site which now accompanies this blog, an ongoing translation of the great French novel La Chartreuse de Parme is underway, starting with Chapter Four which features scenes from the Battle of Waterloo. By the way, I mean 'great' only in the sense of it being a great literary work, not in the sense of agreeing with any views expressed therein. But I digress.

Anyway, along with my humble contribution of an Interlingua translation, and David Parke's kind contribution of a Frenkisch translation, both of which are in their early stages, Dr Olivier Simon has 'gone nuts' (as we say in Australian English, to imply 'worked with great enthusiasm') and finished the entire chapter, producing a Sambahsa translation of over 6,000 words! Since each of these translations shows the original French and an English translation in parallel, this is the perfect opportunity for students wishing to learn how to write literature in these constructed languages.

That Olivier was able to so quickly create (in a few days) such a large translation demonstrates the maturity of the Sambahsa language and its grammar. An achievement not to be sniffed at. Also notable is that the Sambahsa text is shorter than both the English and the French, demonstrating that Sambahsa is indeed a capable yet concise language. Being concise is a virtue not to be underestimated.

To celebrate Olivier's amazing achievement, I am going to attempt to translate some of the Sambahsa into English without reading either the original French or its English translation. Since I have not read the end of the chapter, this is a valid test. Let's test the precision of Sambahsa, a language at which I am a beginner barely capable of writing a few short sentences, by doing this exercise. Unfortunately, Sambahsa is rather difficult and so I think I had better start with just one paragraph, the fifth-last paragraph of the chapter, which I have never read. Let's take a look at the Sambahsa:

Is sergeant, currend ex id herbehrg, hieb viso sien colonel falle, ed iom credih grave-ye vurnen. Currt apter Fabrices ekwum ed seht id ak os sien saber do ia nugvers ios fur; so fallt. Ies hussars, vidend ep id brigv tik iom sergeant ped-ye, upergaloppent ed feugent jaldi. So qui eet ped-ye mwaungsout do id rur.

Okay, here goes. First I will make a literal translation, to demonstrate some aspects of Sambahsa grammar. Highlighted in yellow are shown some interesting Sambahsa constructions:

The sergeant, running out of the inn, had seen his colonel fall, and believed him gravely wounded. He runs behind Fabrice's horse and cuts the point of his sabre into the kidneys of the thief; that one* falls. The hussars, seeing on the bridge only the sergeant on foot, gallop over** and flee quickly. That one*** who was on foot escapes into the countryside.
* meaning the thief
** strongly implying "over the bridge"
*** meaning the one who was on foot (that is, the sergeant) 

I am no expert on Sambahsa tenses but it seems to me that the text is written using an unusual literary device of tense formation, namely that some of the text uses the present tense although the action occurs in the past. Since this is just the sort of trick that the original author, Stendhal, liked to get up to, I'm assuming it has been translated as such. Now let's convert all this into literary English:

The sergeant, running out of the inn, had seen his colonel fall and believed him gravely wounded. He ran behind Fabrice's horse and cut the point of his sabre into the kidneys of the thief, felling him. The hussars, seeing on the bridge only the sergeant on foot, quickly galloped over and fled. The man on foot escaped into the countryside.

Okay, that's about the best I can do without spending too much time looking up documentation. This was a fun exercise, didn't take too long, and I enjoyed it immensely. I was able to deduce here and there a few words which were not found in the dictionary, and was reasonably comfortable doing so, extrapolating from what is in the dictionary. This shows I am getting more comfortable with Sambahsa. Mind you, reading the whole chapter would take me a long time.

I must say, I like the literary quality of Sambahsa, it is very fine.

Okay, now for the result. How did I do?

Here is the original French:

Le maréchal des logis, en accourant de l'auberge, avait vu tomber son colonel, et le croyait gravement blessé. Il court après le cheval de Fabrice et plonge la pointe de son sabre dans les reins du voleur, celui-ci tombe. Les hussards, ne voyant plus sur le pont que le maréchal des logis à pied, passent au galop et filent rapidement. Celui qui était à pied s'enfuit dans la campagne.

And here is Scott-Moncrieff's translation (in grey) compared to my result (in green):

The serjeant, as he hurried from the inn, had seen his colonel fall, and supposed him to be seriously wounded. He ran after Fabrizio’s horse and plunged the point of his sabre into the thief’s entrails; he fell. The hussars, seeing no one now on the bridge but the serjeant, who was on foot, crossed at a gallop and rapidly disappeared. The one on foot bolted into the fields.

The sergeant, running out of the inn, had seen his colonel fall and believed him gravely wounded. He ran behind Fabrice's horse and cut the point of his sabre into the kidneys of the thief, felling him. The hussars, seeing on the bridge only the sergeant on foot, quickly galloped over and fled. The man on foot escaped into the countryside.

Another fantastic result for Sambahsa! Almost exactly correct.

Sambahsa really is an amazing literary language of great quality. It's only drawback is its difficulty.

Bravo, Olivier!

7 comments:

  1. Hi, here's the text passage in Ido, hardly longer than the Sambahsa version -- but Ido is so maúch easier to learn and understand.

    La serjento, adkurante del albergo, esis vidinta sua kolonelo e konsideris il kom grave vundita. Il persequas la kavalo di Fabrice e pikas la pinto di sua sabro en la reni dil furtero; ta falas. La husari, ne vidante ulu sur la ponto kam la serjento surpeda, pasas galopante e rapide desaparas. La surpeda fugas aden la peizajo.

    Saluti,
    Hermann

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  2. And here is a tentative version of this text in a sort of neo-teutonic language:

    Hariwalda, at-iljand ut hariberga, habade sehwan sin harjana andi wenjade him mikkilo sairjat. Hi folga de hursa af Fabrice andi stika urdo af sin swerda in niuras af diuba hwa nidrafalla. Ridonas ni sehwa ni-ain up brugga doh de hariwalda up fotus, dei bi-sprenga endi farswenda hursko. De ain up fotus fliuha in haidi.

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  3. Sellamat Robert !

    Thanks for this complete insight ! I'm glad to see you are feeling more and more comfortable with Sambahsa ! As you rightly guessed, I have followed Stendhal's use of tenses. Strangely, he uses both the present and the past tenses within the same paragraph. As French is the original language, and as I remembered that PIE had no tenses, only aspects, I did as Stendhal did.
    Thanks for checking Sambahsa's hability to convey the meaning of a literary text.
    @ Hermann : Interesting neo-teutonic.
    For translating "serjeant", I suggest you'd rather use something like *mari-skalk : The French word here is "maréchal des logis", which is the corresponding degree in French cavalry and assimilated forces (Gendarmerie, tanks). This name comes from the fact that those serjeants had to care about the horses of their men.
    Good for "hariberga", since Sambahsa has "herbehrg". This is an old Germanic name which meant something like "to shelter the army" and has given the French name "auberge", and English "to harbour".
    "Ridonas" is too vague ("riders" ?), it doesn't describe the fact that these were hussars, not chasseurs or dragoons.

    Olivier

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  4. Hi Oliver,
    thanks for the *mariskalk. However, that word nowadays is contained in the German 'Marschall' which is one of the highest military degrees without any reference to horses. And I had no context, so I am not sure if that 'maréchal des logis' really had any business with horses. (Le Robert quotidien: 'sous-officier de cavalerie, d'artillerie, qui était à l'origine chargé du logement des troupes'. So I turned him into an 'army-manager' while the 'harjana' is the leader of the army. But you are right, the maréchal originally is the *skalka for the *marhas.
    That neo-teutonic text was an attempt 'on the fly' at producing a language construction yesterday evening. I'm neither sure of 'hariwalda' nor of 'harjana', and my proto-Germanic dictionary has never heard of hussars, so they became riders. But now I find that there is an *ehwaraido which is a brigade of riders -- good enough for hussars. Ahem, for me it was just a joke, nothing serious.
    Be the Joy of Languages ever with you!
    PS: I'm far too afraid of tackling your sophisticated Sambahsa, but be assured of my admiration!

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  5. Guten Morgen Hermann !

    Am Beginn des Frankenreiches galt das fränkische Wort *mari-skalk für Pferdediener. Da der König auch solche Diener hatte, wurde dieses Wort mehr und mehr auf die höhere Sphäre begrenzt, weil diese Marschälle die berühmtesten waren. Meiner Meinung nach, stammt das deutsche Wort direkt aus dem französischen, während das Niederländische noch ein ganz germanisches Wort gebraucht : Maarschalk.
    Obwohl unter "maréchal" ohne weiteres das höchste Rang in der Armee heutzutage verstanden wird, wird noch das Wort für andere Begriffe verwendet, die mit Pferden zu tun haben/hatten.
    Ein "maréchal-ferrant" ist ein Hufschmied und, wie gesagt, ein "maréchal des logis" ist ein Unteroffizier in der französischen Kavalerie, Panzerwaffe und Gendarmerie. Ein unoffizielle Benennung für die Gendarmerie ist die "maréchaussée", denn die Gendarmen waren reitende Polizisten. Umgekehrt heisst noch die Bundespolizei Kanadas "royal mounted police", obschon sie kaum mehr Pferde benutzen, während ihr andrer offizieller Name "Gendarmerie Royale" auf französisch ist.
    Wenn man sich näher Sambahsa ansieht, merkt einer, dass ich es mit zwei Wörtern versehen habe : (feld)marschal und maurkschalk (für Pferdediener). "Maurk" bedeutet eigentlich "Kriegespferd" auf Sambahsa. (Ich sehe, dass ich auch ein Wort für "maréchal des logis" vorgesehen hatte: wakhmayster ! Dies hätte sicherlich komischer als "sergeant" an fremden Ohren geklungen !)
    "harjana", das das Deutsche "Herr(en)" gegeben hat, stammt aus Indogermanisch "korionos" = "Herr einer Schar" = "koryos" (vielleicht aus "koros" = "Krieg"). Sambahsa hat "kor" = "Armeekorps", durch Volksetymologie aus dem französischen Wort, und "korion" = "Chef eines Korps".
    Wieviel Mann enthielt ein indogermanisches Korps weiss keiner genau. Wenn *koryos sich auf die indogermanische Institution des "Herrenbundes" bezog, kann man davon ausgehen, das der "koryos" ein oder mehrere Hunderte Krieger umfasste. Da war der koryonos kein Oberst, eher ein Hauptmann oder ein Major...
    Ich denke, dass man sich damit begnügen sollte, das ungarische Urwort für "Hussar" wieder aufzunehmen.
    *ehwaraido ist mit dem engelsächsischen "eored" verwandt, das Tolkien für die Reiter von Rohan benutzt. In "unfinished tales" wird geschrieben, das ein "eored" mehr als 120 Reiter umfasste.
    Das frazösische Wort "brigade" ist doppelsinning. In der Infanterie geht es um zwei Regimente (1600 Mann oder mehr) während es sich in der Kavalerie um ein Paar Soldaten handelt, die unter dem Kommando eines "brigadier" (= Korporal) stehn.

    Vielen Dank für das Interesse an Sambahsa

    Schöne Grüsse aus Lothringen !

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  6. @Hermann: Thanks for the Ido translation.

    It is difficult for me to say why, but for some reason I don't like Ido; I think it is because it is too closely related to Esperanto and I personally find Esperanto neither easy nor aesthetically pleasing. I don't want to have to learn Ido's Esperanto-like grammatical rules. For me, reading Interlingua, Occidental, Mondial or even Novial is both easier and more aesthetically pleasing. My favourite of these languages is Interlingua, which I have chosen to seriously study for the next five years.

    @cafaristeir, @Hermann: interesting to see the Germanic-languages discussion, thanks.

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  7. @Robert
    I quite understand your qualms about the Esperantoness of Ido, especially the o-compulsion for nouns, the c being pronounced as 'ts' even before dark vowels and the s-ending for verbs. But I've got used to it by now, and at least, there is this pursuit of logical thinking which is so very necessary for correct Ido. By the way, recently I have published an old socialist 'Lernolibro por laboristi' from 1927. If you have some German, see here:
    http://www.epubli.de/shop/autor/Hermann-Philipps/2718

    Regarding interlingua and its merits, I fully agree with you, and that is why I am now studying it with some vigour. Reading 'Le defuncte Mattia Pascal' in the translation by Pian Boalt really is a challenge, and I was pleased to learn that the translator is a linguistically very knowledgeable Swedish woman, not an Italian. So there is at least no danger of us being befuddled by 'interlingua in bucca italiana'.

    Interlingua really looks more pleasing to the eye than Ido or Esperanto because the appearance of written interlingua is so much more familiar to us normal European-like people.
    You never mentioned Volapük. This comes quite close to Sambahsa in terms of initial incomprehensibility, and you can - with the strictest regularity - wallow in conugation and declination to your heart's content:
    http://personal.southern.edu/~caviness/Volapuk/
    All the best,
    Hermann

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