English Music
A land without music? Parry, Holst and Elgar to you, Schmitz
Of all the wounding things that foreigners have said about the English people, it is hard to think of an insult more savage than that directed at this country in 1904. They have called us perfidious. They have called us a nation of shopkeepers. They have said that we are in love with our nannies. Nowadays they tell us that we are the fattest, drunkest people in Europe, and that our children leave primary school with the vaguest understanding of reading and writing.
At all these barbs, we just take a deep breath. But when a German critic called Oscar Adolf Hermann Schmitz composed a dithyramb of abuse of the English cultural scene, just over 100 years ago, he included a jibe from which we have never really recovered. It stung. It made us blink like puppies suddenly kicked, and until now we have never had the nerve to fire back at Schmitz — because we have a terrible feeling that he may have been on to something. England, he said, is Das Land Ohne Musik.
Since this is nowadays — thanks to Labour’s abolition of modern languages — a land without German, I will translate. England is the country without music, said Schmitz, and in his verdict on our attainments he was, for a German, quite mild. In the 1840s, the German poet Heinrich Heine had been on a tour of England, and had soaked up quite a lot of the early Victorian cultural scene: the wife crunching something out on the upright piano, the chap in whiskers yodelling over her shoulder.
advertisementTeufel! said the German. Mein Gott! “These people have no ear either for rhythm or music and their unnatural passion for piano playing and singing is all the more repulsive. Nothing on Earth is more terrible than English music,” said the shell-shocked aesthete, “except English painting.”
And how have we reacted to these teutonic assaults, my friends? I am afraid we have responded with more or less complete acquiescence. We cough. We shuffle and we hang our heads. We look at the world’s top composers, the real megastars, and in the first rank we see nothing but Germans or Austrians: Bach, Beethoven, Mozart. And when we get on to the second rank we find Wagner, Haydn, Rachmaninov, Shostakovitch, Mahler, Brahms, Verdi, Puccini, Mendelssohn and so on (extend the list as you like).
Where are our lads? What was going on in this country from about 1700 to 1900? There may have been plenty of Thomas Hardy-style scraping of fiddles and stamping of feet, and there may have been plenty of peasant lasses hitching up their skirts and dancing round the barn. But where is it now? How much of it has been recorded and how many original English compositions, dating from that period could you expect to find in a record store in Berlin?
It seems there was one chap called Thomas Linley, who died prematurely, in a boating accident, in 1777, and whose death was keenly lamented by Mozart. But it is stretching things to blame boating accidents for our failure to produce a first-rank composer from the entire romantic or classical period.
In our despair we turn to the deep socio-economic explanations. Perhaps it was our usual vice of snobbery; perhaps the English did not esteem the composers of music in the way they were esteemed on the Continent. Perhaps our monarchs spent too much time hunting or rogering to think it worth sponsoring the creation of great art.
Or perhaps we were simply too good at literature (where, of course, we have a series of heavyweight champs), and too blessed in our freedom of expression, so that artistic temperaments did not feel the necessity to sublimate their feelings in music or painting.
It sounds like a feeble excuse, doesn’t it? Whatever the cause, we have tended to acknowledge the dreadful truth of Schmitz’s insult, and in 1964 the critic Colin Wilson said that “much English music has the insipid flavour of a BBC variety orchestra playing an arrangement of a nursery rhyme”. English music has been the subject of reflexive embarrassment, like Morris dancing. We associate it instinctively with corduroy-jacketed professors in sandals, their spectacles fixed with Sellotape, descanting madrigals before Sunday lunch.
For children of my generation, the idea of great English composers was about as plausible as the idea of great English tennis players or the great English Austin Allegro. And as soon as you put it like that, you start to wonder whether we are, in fact, falling prey to the characteristic English vice, and doing ourselves down.
Because at the very moment that Schmitz was composing his insult, English music was on the verge of an extraordinary inflorescence, an explosion of talent that we have tended to forget — precisely because it is English. Parry and Vaughan Williams were founding the Royal College of Music, and leading British composers away from the German tendency, and there are many who would say that, for the rest of the 20th century, we left the Germans standing. This week in Dorchester on Thames, in the ancient and beautiful abbey with its perfect acoustics, I humbly invite you listen to the works of Vaughan Williams and Elgar and Holst, Britten and WH Reed, Algernon Ashton, Gerald Finzi and many others. There will be the BBC concert orchestra, Julian Lloyd Webber, and above all there will be the chance to test for yourselves the truth of what Schmitz had to say.
Now I must be frank with you. I am just the president of this English Music Festival, the first and quite possibly the last of its kind. I cannot vouch for the genius of all the pieces you may hear. Though I love music, and though I passionately want more music in schools, and more hymns, I should confess that I once failed Grade One piano.
I leave it to my colleague Simon Heffer, who raves about this stuff, and above all I hope to leave it to you to judge. But my proposition is that England overtook Germany, in music, at almost the moment Schmitz spoke; and even if you don’t go for Vaughan Williams, let me end with a knock-down argument. What would you rather take from the 20th century: the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, or Nina Hagen’s 99 Red Balloons? Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Schmitz.
204 Comments
Newmania – I, too, am well acquainted with huntspeople, although horses and I don’t get on (rather, I don’t get on horses).
They couldn’t catch a fox if it jumped out at them waving a white flag. What’s more, they don’t much care whether they catch one or not. They do it for the thrill of the chase – the fresh air, the going, the obstacles, the speed, the expression of a primaeval relationship between man and nature (or do you prefer kids thinking milk comes from Tesco’s?). It must be a fantastic experience. But it does help to have something to chase.
You townies do not have the faintest understanding of that. As such, you have no right to dictate how others should live.
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PaulD,
I grew up in the countryside and I agree with the banning of fox hunting. I am all for humane culling, but hunting with hounds is cruel. Other cruel forms of hunting had alreadt been banned for ages when fox hunting was banned so I fail to see the fuss about this specific ban.
Yes the ride itself is great, but it is not necesary to have something to chase. Other countries manage to make do with just trail hunts, as it were, so we should be able to do the same.
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K-Other cruel forms of hunting had already been banned for ages when fox hunting was banned so I fail to see the fuss about this specific ban.
Yes yes and which were those other “cruel sports” dog fighting , cock fighting and all the sorts suprise suprise that belonged to the working classes. To be honest K I`m really not the sort to be much fussed about animals getting ripped to shreds;
( PSSST the last thing a wild animal sees is the gaping maugh of the beast about to eat him , not his weeping relatives clutching hankeys)….
Do you worry about the fox? What is your objection at heart I`m not trying to be ironic just trying to think it through . Does it matter what sort of animal it is ? You know they are coming for the anglers now ?I can`t get clear in my head what the principles invoved are , there are so many contradictions.
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I don’t suppose anyone wants to turn this into yet another argument about foxhunting but your dog/cock fighting point cannot go unanswered, Newmania.
Those “pit sports” were primarily about the perverse enjoyment of watching two animals fighting each other to death and betting money on which would survive. For most huntspeople the kill – if it happens at all – is incidental. There is a big difference, which you fail to understand despite my spelling it out for you a minute ago. Hunting is so far removed from sticking pins in puppies that the comparison is not worthy of consideration.
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‘I wonder what DC thinks of all this. Boris too, of course’ (PaulD)
You can find out how Dave C, Boris or any other MP voted on things like smoking here:
http://www.publicwhip.org.uk/index.php
—
‘You know they are coming for the anglers now?’ (newmania)
What’s this about them banning fishing then? There’s always been noise from the anti’s about livebaiting for predators, but I haven’t heard anything about banning fishing itself.
I found this on a pro-livebaiting web-page, I think it pretty much sums things up:
‘To those who don’t livebait, for whatever reason, defend it for those who do. If you don’t it will be maggots and worms you will have to defend next…livebait bans are just one more step towards total bans on angling.’
Personally I do livebait for pike and big perch. If someone out there thinks that it’s cruel then tough. The way I see it, I caught it, its my fish, I decide if it is to become Pike food.
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For anyone who thinks we’re cruel, check out these pics in today’s Torygraph, taken in St James’s Park, London.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/graphics/2006/10/24/upelican1.jpg
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/graphics/2006/10/24/upelican2.jpg
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Paul D – If the kill is incidental then why not dispense with it ?Why not , fish for wooden fish ?
The kill is not incidental and I suspect your claim that my question is not worthy of consideration should be translated as, ” I have no answer”
No doubt , for you , the statement that you could produce some arguement if you wanted to is same thing as doing so .
I will grant you consistency and consider myself “incidentally “not killed.
Is this an old carousel then ? I wasn`t here for the previous rides.Pity.
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Pelicans eat pigeons? We should introduce lots more of them to our cities, pronto.
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Steven L-Pelicans eat pigeons
Yes but the kill is so “incidental” the pigeons enjoy it.
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I suspect your claim that my question is not worthy of consideration should be translated as, ” I have no answer”
Newmania, I like you enormously and hate to see you demeaning yourself with this kind of clever-dick response. The answer came earlier. There is no comparison between people who go for an invigorating ride and those who stick pins in puppies.
Please remember this comes from someone who holds no candle for the hunt but who cannot abide the government’s constant interference in our lives.
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I don’t eat meat, yet I am not against hunting. I believe it’s important that we as a society retain our hunting skills and I don’t see any means of achieving this other than by practicing these.
Hunting is an age old means of survival for humanity and is still vital to the economies of some societies. It could once again become vital for us in the future.
My view is that those who oppose hunting on ethical grounds should give up eating meat as this requires the cruel slaughter of animals. Slaughter of animals in abattoirs is, in my view, every bit as cruel as hunting, pigs scream with terror for hours as they wait outside and inside my local abattoir. They smell, hear and sense that other pigs are being killed and sense that this will happen to them.
Our government, which is largely comprised of meat eaters, banned hunting primarily for reasons of political expediency. I doubt if many of them really give a damn about animal welfare.
They cruelly deny a proportion of England’s cancer patients the treatments which would alleviate their suffering. They cruelly rob elderly people, just weeks from death, of their homes to pay for care. And all the while they are stuffing as much of our taxes into their own coffers as they can lay their greedy hands on.
What hypocrites!
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Well said, Flo. Apologies if this link goes into space…
http://www.saffronwalden-reporter.co.uk/searchcambs/search/story.aspx?brand=SAFOnline&category=NewsSaffron&itemid=WEED27%20Sep%202006%2016:08:59:467&tBrand=SAFOnline&tCategory=search
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‘There is no comparison between people who go for an invigorating ride and those who stick pins in puppies’ (PaulD)
I was just checking Boris’s voting record an animal rights. On 14th March he rebelled against the tory leadership and voted in favour of cutting of little puppy dogs tails.
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You can find out how Dave C, Boris or any other MP voted on things like smoking here: http://www.publicwhip.org.uk/index.php
Thank you, Steven. Glad to see Boris is keeping up his role as awkward bastard.
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I guess that my preliminary portmanteau answer to the various questions that have been posed is: if the activity in question does not harm other people, I see no reason to ban it.
Does wearing hoodies or burqas harm other people? No.
Does fox-hunting harm other people? No.
Does drug-taking harm other people? No. Except when behind the wheel of a car.
Does free debate or argument harm other people? No.
Does war, murder, assault, theft, rape, embezzlement, and fraud harm other people? Yes.
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I should add to this that by ‘doing any harm to anyone’, I mean occasioning them to spend their time doing something they would not have otherwise wished to do.
If, for example, I stole Boris’ car keys, I would have probably made him spend hours looking for them – something he would not have otherwise done.
The harm done by this theft lies in these subsquent, fruitless efforts by Boris.
Boris’ own personal response (alarm, rage, despondency, and so on) are merely his own, personal, passing judgments upon the matter, and are simply another opinion upon it. But if we are to gauge the real impact of any action, we must discount such mere opinion.
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idlex, when you say:
it is quite clear that you are not the child of a drug addict or, come to that, an alcoholic.
It does, in fact, harm other people, as anyone familiar with FAS, domestic violence statistics, or home-based accident rates could tell you.
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Flo gets better and better does she not . “I do not eat meat but I am not against hunting,”. You could wait a long time and not hear that again.
I agree that the Beatrix Potter view of animals should be discarded at adulthood. This country has a peculiar attachment to anthropomorphising, which I attribute to the early industrial revolution, and the consequent separation from agri-business. I eat meat with relish, and would be prepared to kill my own if I had to. In fact, I suspect I might rather enjoy it. I can shoot the dickens out of a clay dish!
Like any sane person, if pushed, I will admit that the taxing moral conundrums of torturing animals for pleasure, are not worth much political time, and I wouldn’t disturb it myself . Nonetheless there are moral difficulties that the threat of a bucolic bewhiskered squire, in deer stalker and plus fours , tapping my door with a blunder buss ( Paul D?), will not dissuade me from probing a little further.
Speaking of an old blunderbuss, congratulations to Squire D for getting this one out to the closet .
” I like you enormously …BUT…etc.” …
Ooo sneaky! Have you been reading Potter’s one-upmanship? Allow me to assist you in clarifying your argument for hunting, which at present is full of holes. This I do in a charitable spirit, and because I like you, if possible, even more than you like me……( The standard , not the Sicilian counter)
Yes fox torturers are probably better people than puppy burners, but this is beside the point.If ,Paul, you were under sentence of death, for the sheer pleasure of some charming rustics, I imagine you, incarcerated like woebegone Toad in a cell, in no end of a funk.
. Never fear, for around the corner Newmania is hurrying to announce the good news…
” Thank god, Squire D , we’ve persuaded them to enjoy an invigorating ride while the torture proceeds ”
How you would thank me for this stay of execution,
“God bless you Newmania .”, you would cry ,” the sheer knowledge of the wind in their hair reconciles me entirely to the show . Taran tara , bring it on!!”
In short you have forgotten how the fox feels about it ? Having done that, quite obviously, there is no problem with fox hunting; neither is there any difficulty with puppy burning.
I conclude that if you are going to justify hunting, it is not sufficient to vaguely assert that hunters are jolly good chaps , true though that may be . You have to examine the human relationship with animals, the importance of custom, and the Libertarian backdrop, which in itself, as I have quite clearly shown ; will not do.
Idlex -” If I do not harm anyone else “Well yes that is a good starting point, but the definition of harm you propose is entirely inadequate to the connected lives we have in a modern society . To take one example; the burqa . Does it harm anyone?
Yes it does
1 It tells little girls that their nascent sexuality is wrong and sinful
2 It tells little boys that woman are property
3 It offers support and succour to fascists and terrorists worldwide
4 It challenges the free society in which we live and is a quite deliberate political statement to that effect
Does it actually leap of the face of the anonymous wearer like the a clothy “alien” and inflict physical pain ? No it does not , but it will cause pain and suffering endlessly as the ripples of its effect spread outwards into the actions of others.
While I am happy for the rustics to enjoy chasing wily Monsieur Reynard . I do not want burqas in schools. This distinction is to do with custom. One is a custom of this culture, the other is an alien political attack on it. If the Labour party, or the politically correct in general, accepted there was such a distinction, how quickly we could solve absurd mess they are in, disrupting our best C of E and Catholic schools. The real objective is to be seen to be bullying two or three Islamic schools and therby suck up to the working class they betrayed . For this tawdry end thousands of our best educational institutions must be undermined ?
.The answer is simple .The church schools can stay , the Islamic ones cannot .
I enjoyed that and now I had better start earning a crust au revoir Squire D as in Paul ( Thanks for links Steven ,).
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Mr Newman stated:
‘The answer is simple .The church schools can stay , the Islamic ones cannot’
Once again I find myself strongly disagreeing with your views. It is not the purpose of the state to fund any form of sectarian education. All state-funded education in this country should be secular.
True to my libertarian principles however, if people want to fund there own sectarian school then they should be allowed to do so, provided that the school can be shown to meet the required educational standards in the national curriculum.
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Now listen here, Newman chappie, any more of that nonsense and I’ll have you over me britches for a sound spanking followed by seven days’ mucking-out.
You’ve interrupted by breakfast. Now, where were we… kedgeree, venison pate, brace of quail, tankard of porter… ah, that’s better.
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To take one example; the burqa . Does it harm anyone?
Yes it does
1 It tells little girls that their nascent sexuality is wrong and sinful
2 It tells little boys that woman are property
3 It offers support and succour to fascists and terrorists worldwide
4 It challenges the free society in which we live and is a quite deliberate political statement to that effect (newmania)
There are no such ‘messages’ in a burqa, except those that you have imagined.
And for all our vaunted Western freedoms, do we not have equally powerful dress codes?
It is frequently mandatory for Western males to wear ties, as a noose around their necks. What messages do you read into that?
1. They are proclaiming themselves to be serfs?
2. They are going to hang themselves later that day?
3. They don’t need table napkins?
The possibilities are limitless, given sufficient imagination.
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it is quite clear that you are not the child of a drug addict or, come to that, an alcoholic. (raincoaster)
My father smoked 60 a day, and used to have his own well-stocked bar in the corner of our living room.
That would probably have earned him an Anti-Social Behaviour Order, these modern enlightened days.
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idlex, My father smoked 60 a day…
So did mine,and Woodbines t’boot.
my sister is 79, my brother is 76, I am 74 !!! passive smoking..what passive smoking!!
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Idlex-The possibilities are limitless, given sufficient imagination-
Yes and I might with sufficient imagination interpret the number 3 to be the number 43. I would be wrong however. In the case of the burqa I am not
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Are we back onto the Burqa? To be honest it’s never really bothered me, but I agree with taking the same line as France and Turkey and banning it from schools etc.
A few years ago I lived for about 9 months in Huddersfield, which is over 40% British-Pakistani Muslim. It wasn’t what they wore that bothered me, it was the fact that so many of them refused to speak to white people if they could possibly avoid it.
I’d be standing with one of my Muslim mates and a few of his old school-chums would come and start chatting to him in some foreign language. The first time they did it I tried to acknowledge them (as they were on the same course as me) but they just completely blanked me.
When they went away my mate told me not to bother trying to speak to them, ‘Don’t waste you’re time mate, they don’t speak to white folk’ he politely informed me. Now this wasn’t entirely accurate, they’d speak to white folk if it was absolutely necessary, such as the lecturer for instance.
I’ve never heard of Hindus, Sikhs, black folk or any other minority that refuse to speak to the indigenious population of Anglo-Saxons, just some Muslims. It wasn’t even that smaller minority of Muslims at the uni that completely segregated themselves either, I’d say between 10% and 20% of them did.
Britain has addressed racism and prejudice within it’s society, legislated to prevent it and punishes offenders severely. Now they want ot go a step further, religion is about to be protected by what will probably end up being used as new anti-blasphemy laws, the new Racial and Religious Hatred Act.
Even though, like most of this government’s legislation it’s utterly unenforceable, you have to ask the question whether we are moving in the right direction. I thought blasphemy was a thing of the past, and that terrestrial TV was allowed to screen Monty Python’s ‘The Life of Brian’ these days.
Whether it’s Evangelical Christians preaching hatred of homosexuals or ignorant Muslims pouring scorn on the unbelievers, they should sort out their own houses before they expect the state to protect them from a taste of their own medicine.
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I might with sufficient imagination interpret the number 3 to be the number 43. I would be wrong however. In the case of the burqa I am not. (newmania)
I see. You’re just telling me that you’re right. No argument. No evidence. Only bald assertion.
In Western society there were Christian women who dressed in something very like burqas, who were sworn to virginity, and sometimes silence. They were called ‘nuns’.
Those ‘nuns’ must have been a right menace.
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passive smoking..what passive smoking!! (churstonchappie)
Quite so.
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Idlex-I see. You’re just telling me that you’re right. No argument. No evidence. Only bald assertion.
No my meaning was not what you have imagined it to be. I was only saying that the fact symbols can be misinterpreted is not of itself evidence that they cannot be powerful . Context is important and the meaning of a nuns habit stems from the entirely different history and context in which it is worn.
If,Idlex, there was no meaning attached to this garb other than what one might imagine at random ,the woman would hardly have wasted time insisting on wearing it. It is symbolic for her and it is also symbolic for us .
The swastika was , I gather a sort of mystic symbol that was entirely benign in India at some point , but if you were to walk it into the context of Israel , you might find that quibbling over your intention fell on deaf ears. To be honest, I didn’t especially mean to get into Moooslim bashing of which there has been to much . It popped into my head as an example of ways in which consideration of others might extend far away from actual physical harm . Perhaps you would allow me that general notion ?
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Stevey L-I’ve never heard of Hindus, Sikhs, black folk or any other minority that refuse to speak to the indigenious population of Anglo-Saxons, just some Muslims. It wasn’t even that smaller minority of Muslims at the uni that completely segregated themselves either, I’d say between 10% and 20% of them did.
Yes there has been some discussion of this in the press including a Muslim revealing his own problems of that sort at college.My impression was thta 10% might beon the low side.?
Two of the bomb plotters were at Islington College. the theory is that they are watching the Mosques ( god knows I hope so with our one ) , and the focus of actvity has moved into other places in the community. Universities seem to be danger areas
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No my meaning was not what you have imagined it to be.
If I misunderstand you, newmania, is that my fault, or is it yours?
I generally find that I understand pretty much everything Boris writes, and a great deal of what everyone else writes. But I regularly trip over almost everything you write. Is that really entirely the fault of my own unbridled imagination?
Why is it that some people can put their ideas into clear words, and others can not? I really don’t care what your opinions may be on any matter, but I do care about your ability to lucidly express them. After all, if we don’t even understand what’s being said to us, then all discussion is void, and me may as well speak in grunts and nods.
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And on the English music front, I should report that I’ve spent the last two months listening to Joaquin Sabina:
Dimelo En La Calle (Tell me that outside).
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” Peces de ciudad ”
(Letra: Joaquín Sabina / Música: Joaquín Sabina,Pancho Varona) *
Se peinaba a lo garçon
la viajera que quiso enseñarme a besar
en la gare d’Austerlitz.
Primavera de un amor
amarillo y frugal como el sol
del veranillo de san Martín.
Hay quien dice que fui yo
el primero en olvidar
cuando en un si bemol de Jacques Brel
conocí a mademoiselle Amsterdam.
En la fatua Nueva York
da más sombra que los limoneros
la estatua de la libertad,
pero en desolation row
las sirenas de los petroleros
no dejan reír ni volar
y, en el [t]oro de Babel,
desafina un español.
No hay más ley que la ley del tesoro
en las minas del rey Salomón.
Y desafiando el oleaje
sin timón ni timonel,
por mis sueños va, ligero de equipaje,
sobre un cascarón de nuez,
mi corazón de viaje,
luciendo los tatuajes
de un pasado bucanero,
de un velero al abordaje,
de un no te quiero querer.
Y cómo huir
cuando no quedan
islas para naufragar
al país
donde los sabios se retiran
del agravio de buscar
labios que sacan de quicio,
mentiras que ganan juicios
tan sumarios que envilecen
el cristal de los acuarios
de los peces de ciudad
que mordieron el anzuelo,
que bucean a ras del suelo,
que no merecen nadar.
El Dorado era un champú,
la virtud unos brazos en cruz,
el pecado una página web.
En Comala comprendí
que al lugar donde has sido feliz
no debieras tratar de volver.
Cuando en vuelo regular
pisé el cielo de Madrid
me esperaba una recién casada
que no se acordaba de mí.
Y desafiando el oleaje
sin timón ni timonel,
por mis venas va, ligero de equipaje,
sobre un cascarón de nuez,
mi corazón de viaje,
luciendo los tatuajes
de un pasado bucanero,
de un velero al abordaje,
de un liguero de mujer.
Y cómo huir
cuando no quedan
islas para naufragar
al país
donde los sabios se retiran
del agravio de buscar
labios que sacan de quicio,
mentiras que ganan juicios
tan sumarios que envilecen
el cristal de los acuarios
de los peces de ciudad
que perdieron las agallas
en un banco de morralla,
en una playa sin mar.
“Lo cuento, aunque no sé si le hará gracia: Estaba cantándola Joaquín y se emocionó tanto que paró y lloró. Primera vez que ocurre”.
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Muy triste Idlex…que pena
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After all, if we don’t even understand what’s being said to us, then all discussion is void, and me may as well speak in grunts and nods.-
Really Idlex? You seem a little tetchy to me.Allow me to draw my own conclusions as to why that might be . I would not be so impolite as to comment on your own style , but if you continue with this low tactic, I shall be sorely tempted.
“Me may as well speak in grunts and nods.” Yes indeed , me may .(Well just a bit then)
XX
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You seem a little tetchy to me
True enough. And no fault of yours.
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Exacto, Melissa.
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Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Drugo.
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Curiosity aroused by Idlex, I found a couple of Joaquin Sabina tracks. Nice tight backing, catchy rhythm, but when is Joaquin going to cut down his 80 a day?
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I suspect, Paul, that 80 a day is essential to keep the rasp in his voice.
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I don’t expect there will be an English translation at any point? For 6:16 or 10:36?
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There should be raincoaster – now there is a challenge for …Idlex? or I could help too
The song is of a sad, Fado-type- longing wreathed with sadness and looking to the past
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I love listening to Fado, and Vancouver’s actually been instrumental in the revival of authentic Flamenco, but I do not read or speak any Spanish or Portugese that cannot be found on a menu, alas.
This is a very odd Flash movie, from a very strange but beautiful site. I’m pasting it here because it has such incredible flamenco music from Domingo Alvarado.
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now there is a challenge for …Idlex? or I could help too (Melissa)
One can use Google or Free Translation to help.
I can translate Spanish a little bit, but Joaquin Sabina is also a considerable poet as well as singer, and that makes it harder. I’ll just try translating line by line, word by word. Here’s my best crude outline guess:
Se peinaba a lo garçon
la viajera que quiso enseñarme a besar
en la gare d’Austerlitz.
She was combing her hair in boyish style
The traveller who wanted
To teach me to kiss
In Austerlitz station
Primavera de un amor
amarillo y frugal como el sol
del veranillo de san Martín.
The springtime of a love,
yellow and frugal like the sun,
In the brief summer of St Martin.
Hay quien dice que fui yo
el primero en olvidar
cuando en un si bemol de Jacques Brel
conocí a mademoiselle Amsterdam.
Someone said that I was
The first to forget
When in one flat note of Jacques Brel,
I got to know mademoiselle Amsterdam.
En la fatua Nueva York
da más sombra que los limoneros
la estatua de la libertad,
pero en desolation row
In conceited New York,
The Statue of Liberty
Gives more shadow than the lemon trees,
But in Desolation Row.
las sirenas de los petroleros
no dejan reír ni volar
y, en el [t]oro de Babel,
desafina un español.
The sirens of the oil tankers
Don’t allow laughter or escape,
And in the tower of Babel,
A Spaniard is out of tune.
No hay más ley que la ley del tesoro
en las minas del rey Salomón.
Y desafiando el oleaje
sin timón ni timonel,
There is no greater law than the law of treasure
In the mines of king Solomon,
And defying the swell
Without helm or helmsman.
por mis sueños va, ligero de equipaje,
sobre un cascarón de nuez,
mi corazón de viaje,
luciendo los tatuajes
So my dreams go, with little baggage,
On a shell of walnut,
My heart of journey,
Showing off the tattoos
de un pasado bucanero,
de un velero al abordaje,
de un no te quiero querer.
Of a past buccaneer,
Of an approaching sailing ship,
Of one I don’t wish you to want.
Y cómo huir
cuando no quedan
islas para naufragar
al país
donde los sabios se retiran
del agravio de buscar
labios que sacan de quicio,
And how to escape
When they don’t stay on
shipwreck islands
In a country
Where the wise men retreat
From the offence of seeking
Lips that unhinge. (drive mad)
mentiras que ganan juicios
tan sumarios que envilecen
el cristal de los acuarios
de los peces de ciudad
que mordieron el anzuelo,
que bucean a ras del suelo,
que no merecen nadar.
Lies that win trials
So summary that they disgrace
The glass of the aquariums
of the fish of the city
That bit the hook,
Which dive to floor level
That they don’t deserve to swim.
El Dorado era un champú (campeon?),
la virtud unos brazos en cruz,
el pecado una página web.
El Dorado was a shampoo (champion?),
The virtue some arms in cross,
The sin a web page.
En Comala comprendí
que al lugar donde has sido feliz
no debieras tratar de volver.
In Comala I understood
that at the place where you have been happy
you should not try to return.
Cuando en vuelo regular
pisé el cielo de Madrid
me esperaba una recién casada
que no se acordaba de mí.
When on a regular flight
I stepped the sky of Madrid
I hoped for a recently married woman
Who did not agree with me.
Y desafiando el oleaje
sin timón ni timonel,
por mis venas va, ligero de equipaje,
sobre un cascarón de nuez,
mi corazón de viaje,
And defying the swell
Without helm or helmsman,
Through my veins go, with little luggage,
On a shell of walnut,
my heart of journey.
luciendo los tatuajes
de un pasado bucanero,
de un velero al abordaje,
de un liguero de mujer.
Lighting the tattoos
of a past buccaneer,
Of an approaching sailing ship,
Of a woman’s garter.
Y cómo huir
cuando no quedan
islas para naufragar
al país
donde los sabios se retiran
del agravio de buscar
labios que sacan de quicio,
And how to escape
When they don’t stay on
shipwreck islands
In a country
Where the wise men retreat
From the offence of seeking
Lips that unhinge.
mentiras que ganan juicios
tan sumarios que envilecen
el cristal de los acuarios
de los peces de ciudad
que perdieron las agallas
en un banco de morralla,
en una playa sin mar.
Lies that win trials
So summary that they disgrace
The glass of the aquariums
of the fish of the city
That lost the gills
on a bench of riff-raff,
on a beach without sea.
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Well, my crude translation is in the post. But I put in two links, so it won’t be posted until it has been released by the moderators.
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idlex, I loved your translation.
To be pedantic I would just question:
>luciendo los tatuajes
de un pasado bucanero,
Lighting the tattoos
of a past buccaneer,
Surely ‘luciendo’ from ‘lucer’ means displaying with applomb in this context therefore ‘flaunting’ might perhaps be the more fitting word…
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I’m sure you’re right, Melissa. Lucir also means ‘to show off’.
However, it seems to me that one should begin with a crude outline translation, and only then try to render it into good English sense.
Perhaps you would like to attempt this second stage.
A third stage might be to make it all rhyme as well.
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Incidentally, I worry a lot about shampoo.
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Thanks! That does look like a beautiful song; I’ll look for it online.
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And who among us cannot say the same? Many are the sleepless nights I’ve spend worrying whether Full & Soft was the right choice for me, or whether I was more of a Deep Moisturizing girl…
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Just shave it all off, problem solved!
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