an online writers' course and other things

The link is here.
I thought I'd give it a try.
More on that later on.
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Right now I am polishing a 10+ page scientific paper I have translated to English. Some of the most frequent words reveal my state of mind these days: farm regulation, inheritance law, turnover, material resources, measures. Had enough I guess. I, too :) - please tell me it's not 'me, too' here, right?

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About the photos:

They were made in Poland, where we had a nice performance with the choir.

(more photos may come on request)

Keep well,

SzF.

my whereabouts, whenabouts and ifabouts, oh, geez

Now, as I am working on this translation about nematodes, on pine wilt nematode to be more specific, I came across this grammar problem and some of you might share a thought or two about it.

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While I was searching (and finding) some neat advice on the use of that/which for restrictive/nonrestrictive clauses**, I came across the problem of 'where'.

As my English develops (that is: revives and collapses and the loop starts all over again...) during the years I noticed myself using the word 'where' more, than ever.

Now I found on a website that using 'where' is more informal, and when the audience expects you to be more academic, or formal, you should use 'which'.

So I'm going through my translation text and check whether my style suits the needs of a PhD thesis.

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Take this sentence for example (uhm, this is a direct copy from the thesis, please do not use it for your purposes, I'm sorry, it is ridiculous, but still...)

'However, where pure-bred nematodes are maintained on a PDA medium, the method of the lysis procedure is not crucial.' This is how I translated the Hungarian sentence. But now I feel I should change 'where' to 'when', or 'if', or with a different structure, to 'which'.

I am almost done with the text, it's 20 pages with references and all, and once I'm finished, I'm giving the whole document a style checkup.

I just peeked into it here and there and was surprised by the amount of 'where's. I am in awe. Or shock :)

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Is it something informal, or modern, or is it just floppy writing?

Were those 'were's correct was it an informal text, like a diary, or something?

Should I change them all?

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**

This is something a non-native speaker, like I do not necessarily embrace naturally. We have to learn it. And I admit sometimes I make the strangest mistakes. I was well into all sorts of Times and Sequence of Times and whatnot, but still was unable to manage the interrogative form of Simple Past. There you have it :(

But I digress.

k

you may have, or have not heard about this website.
at times it is downright hilarious, and at others, highly spectacular. sometimes, at its bests, it's both.
basically, it is about wrecked cakes.
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however, this is not an advertisement.
i came accross a post.
if you have time please read it.
below is a letter i wrote to the keepers of the site, with great respect towards the jog they are doing and with great curiosity as well :)
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dear editors/moderators,
this is a private message - you don't have to actually post it. (just contemplate...)
english is not my native language, i think you got it by now :)
i had no trouble of whatsoever of finding 'spooky' where the wreckerator wrote 'spooy' instead.
i have read quite a number of comments, possibly from native speakers of english.
none of them seemed to have found the connection between spooy and spooky.
they all come up with fun explanations and suggestions.
no-one mentions 'spooky'. not ever.
please, i am seriously intrigued by now:
how come this?
why me - and no-one else?
you may leave a reply in a comment over one of my websites (BOTH are in english) for i will ask my readers, too about this strange phenomenon.
thank you for your attention and keep up the good work.

foreword to 'Homeward bound'

within a week i will post my latest short story called 'Homeward bound'.

it is loosely inspired by some music and a movie.

i wrote it in Hungarian and the version published here is my translation. it totals to 1200+ words.

if you have any trouble understanding the reason behind a certain selection of word, word order, verb tense or style, just let me know. i probably have done something wrong and your help is much appreciated.

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it is about a journey.

there's not much going on there in the surface, it's merely a reflection, but some parts are autobiographical.

the major tragic elements are just made up ones.

sometimes we wish it was just easy, don't we?

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there are three parts to it.

which is a bit strange - were there only one part, the story would make a small, stand-alone writing.

the short second part adds a twist to it.

you probably will notice that the third part is not necessary. i had some difficulties finishing it at first, but i came to like it at the end.

you be the judge.

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the journey begins tomorrow, have fun.

writing ?

These days I'll sure have to finish...hm, wait, I'll sure have to start writing an article for an eco-conscious online magazine.
Any trouble with that?
Well, yes and no.
I have no trouble digging into eco-consciousness, or any form of traditonal agriculture for that matter. I dig them both - lame pun, perhaps.
I have no trouble writing.... ? Hm...let me see...provided there's an inspiration and motivation, writing is fun for me.
I have no trouble writing for the public.... ?
Well, I have this blog for 4 ? 5 ? years ?
Have been writing articles for paper and online magazines and other online surfaces in the past six years? Really, that's not the point.
The point of fear, no, F.E.A.R. is that this time I am required to make an interview with someone through the telephone.
Phew, there you have it, I named you, my little bastard.
I'm nearly 40 and am afraid of making that particular phone call.
I'm truly broken.
I got this task like two weeks ago.
Right after having gotten it I got two others, of different kinds. One was a translation (from Hun to Eng) and the second one was two articles (no interview needed at all).
Guess what I did first?
The translation, because that's my favourite.
Than I wrote the two articles (one on seasonal veggies, one on recipes) for the very same online magazine I should be writing that interview-based essay as well. Go figure. The same authority, the same readers' range, the same style and approach needed.
It's the phone interview I fear.
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Bravery

A friend of mine asked me a favour to translate a poem written in Hungarian by one of her friends. I do not usually translate poems, apart from those I write - this request found me by surprise.

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The title is Bravery - as is my action. Your comments are welcomed.
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Bravery

Definitions are lost.
My love, this is where we are -
Nothingness.
Poles and meat hooks.
Frozen kids emerging from stained loops.

To my table, you are invited,
see - I have no manners.
My head is turned
away with the shrubs upon your plate
no one is supposed to
order.

Come, come into the woods,
let the rain wash us through the dirt
A stillness waits where
hedgehogs rush
from swamps -
and no questions are needed

The Joke that not everyone gets

in my last entry I let you read a joke, assuming that almost noone would find it funny.

I considered it as a cultural and/or social research and I would like to say words of appreciation for everyone who's taken part, and time to read the 'joke' through and to provide me with thoughts.

If you have NOT read it yet, please feel free to do so. And don't forget to comment :)

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I think I owe you some explanation, which I will give now, but I don't think anyone not having found the joke funny in the first place would feel like laughing.

During the soviet regime people were burdened with a perplexing set of seemingly random laws and regulations. The chances of completely observing these less-than-intelligently articulated, unnecessary and cumbersome rules was next to nothing. Yet people survived because there have been those shortcuts, u-turns and indirect routes everyone knew of, yet noone has spoken of. If one knew the how of things, the place of the secret door to hide away, one was safe.

We had rules, and we had to have the knowledge to disobey them.

This knowledge is what the rabbit has in the joke.

The rabbit is well aware that if he follows the rule he will be dead.

But he tries anything to save his life.

'Can the rules be overlooked just for me, just for now, please, oh mighty bear, whom I fear?' - this is what he has in his voice. And also: 'Can't you just posibly look away, pretending I don't even exist?'

Awful laws, seeking for alleviation in a personal way, corruption, misery and mischief - all condensed into one single political joke.

Some of you found this joke disturbing. Now you know why.

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Surfing through the web I came accross this vocabulary quiz. All you have to do is find a synonym to a word. There are four options to choose from. If you don't find the correct match, nothing happens. But if you do, 10 grains (not grams, grains) are donated to someone in a poor country in the framework of the World Food Programme.

Give it a try.

I played today and raised 680 grains by matching and mis-matching words with their synonims. My knowledge fits somewhere between levels 28-32. The higher the level, the more difficult/strange the words are.

UPDATE: I played again and gained 800 grains. My vocabulary keeps expanding!

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and if you've done your part, grab your keyboard and what's left of your brain and head towards The Clarity of Night, where another short fiction writing contest is up and effective as of this Wednesday, 7 November.

Don't miss it.

I'm on 286, dang. Cut, cut and cut.

I have a family, so I am disabled PART2

Dear readers,
it seems that my words were unclear.

A very unfortunate situation indeed, for I have asked for some thoughts, co-operation and brainstorming. I think you were about to give it, but were hindered by my not-so-clear introduction.

Allow me to have a tabula rasa in this subject.

---

I volunteer at an organization (I recently quitted - another story). Each month this year members and volunteers organize a special evening. Each month is focused on one of the disabled group of people.

If you think of the circle of 'handicapped' people, please think about it in a broader sense. Those who have some serious physical disability (like having no sight for example) are clearly handicapped. The mentally challenged are also. Their place and potential in life is limited, right?

There are the homeless, the poor, the list is endless.

---

It seems to me that somehow, everyone is handicapped in some way. But I DO think it's another story. Well, I have to learn to keep my mouth shut.

---

Okay, here's the organization.

Each month.

A disabled group.

It's October.

The subject is 'family'.

---

Sometime in the spring, it was 'women/women with kids'.

Do you see how they fit into the category of handicapped?

I don't know about your circumstances, but in Hungary a woman gets less salary than a man in the same position in the very same firm.

Women are supposed to work PLUS do all the cooking AND housekeeping and be that lovey-dovey wife, while not being acknowledged for all those tremendeous efforts they usually do for the sake of the family.

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Feminism put aside, October is about FAMILY.

I don't know about your circumstances, but in Hungary there's no such a thing as tax by families. We have things like a long maternity leave (for 1,5 YEARS after the baby is born the mother receives 75% of her last salary), a monthly childcare allowance paid by employers.

It may all sound nice, but money-wise that's just about it.

There are 3 of us who are doing this project.

We have the assumption that FAMILY as such is decaying.

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I don't know about your circumstances, but apart from the XXth century, FAMILY in Hungary used to mean the co-living of generations. Children grew up hard working, yes, that is one side of the coin, BUT they were surrounded not only by their grandparents, but in most cases, by their grand-grandparents as well. Sometimes the very old had to work, too, but they were also there to tell stories, fables and ease any pain the young met.

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Where are those (grand-) grandparents now?

Where is a normal family now?

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And now, about the word ROOT - that stirred up my kind readers the most.

In the Hungarian language, root (gyökér) refers to

1.) the part of a plant that is within the ground. It is to supply the plant with nutrients and water, right?

2.) quite metaphorically, the very same word refer to one's family.

If you come to think about it was your parents (and grandparents) who have made you come to alive, and they did supply you with all the necessary elements to make you become of what you are now. I'm speaking, as I more often than not, BOTH in the physical, psychological and mental sense. I mean all the three aspects. If one's adopted, one got the body from his real parents, but all the rest must be coming from the adoptive parents, right?

Without a root, a plant dies.

And so do humans without a family.

Anyone disagreeing?

There.

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Now, the word gyökér (root) has undergone a change in the past few decades.

From being a neutral word, it became a negative judgement about one's mental capacities. A synonim for being dumb, inarticulate, incoherent, unintelligent, ignorant. Thanks Thesaurus, I love you.

I remember when in highschool I was taught the word 'g-a-y'. It was just an ordinary word for me, nothing more. (Special punctuation is for search engines. Or rather, against them.)

Later on I was informed that it had other, very specific connotations attached to it.

Would I, in my right mind use the very same 3-letter word to describe someone who's happy?/animate?/colorful?/bright?

No way!

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So the word gyökér (root), which used to have a nice feeling around it, for it referred to something nutritive, familiar (I'm playing with words here, people), desireable... Now people see the word as something negative.

I believe in the power of words.

Why else would I be writing this?

If we attach meanings to words, there'll be meaning within them.

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If we think the very word 'root' is undesireable, then sooner or later we'll begin having the same ideas about the meaning BEHIND the pure combination of four letters. (root).

My hypothesis is that derogating the word 'root' means derogating the meaning behind it, too.

This event will NOT be a linguistic lecture for sure.

It is just an example.

We have started to consider our 'roots' as something negative.

I think this is a TERRIBLE MISTAKE.

---

I love this word: mistake.

For me it means that we mis-take. Choose something falsely.

(Did I mention I was conservative, btw? Perhaps, to mainstream liberalists like those in the leadership of that women's organization my ideas will mean nothing.)

I think that's enough.

Tell me to shoot myself.

a what?

Let's play.

I invite you to present English words, expressions and/or sentences that read the same from the front as from backwards. What did I just mean?

Palindromes.

Here are my versions (with my lame translations in brackets and italics)

--- Erős a sas őre. (the eagle has a strong guard)
--- Erőszakos kannak sok a szőre. (the agressive male has lots of hair)
--- Az a hat ló Bartókot rabolta haza. (these six horses captured Bartók home)
--- Indul a pap aludni. (the priest is going to sleep)
--- Indul a görög aludni. (the greekman is going to sleep)
--- Indul a kutya s a tyúk aludni. (the dog and the hen are going to sleep)
--- Géza, kék az ég. (Look, Géza, the sky is blue)
--- Leventét nevel. (he's raising a fighter)
--- Réti pipitér. (THIS IS NOT translation: this is the name of a flower that actually exists)
--- Goromba rab morog. (the impolite prisoner is grouching)
--- Csak a mama makacs. (only mommy is obstinate)

But hear the LONGEST palindrom in Hungarian:

"Kis erek mentén, láp sík ölén, oda van a bánya rabja, jaj Baranyában a vadon élő Kis Pálnét nem keresik."

This is a silly sentence, though a Hungarian speaker can completely understand it. No word-plays or slangs or really rare words. Maybe, some poetric images.

Here's my translation:

'Beside small creeks, on the heart of marshlands, the prisoner of the mine is gone, oh, the nomad wife to Kis Pál, is not sought after in Baranya anymore.'

Applause.

clearing all up - or messing again?

In a post about my relationship to writing in English and the problems and joys it involves I had a sentence that left my careful readers unimpressed. Rightly so, for it was not written with the greatest care plus it was quite long. Funnily enough, the entry was about expressing one's ideas in a different language, about making one understood, about matching one's ideas with one's physical life.

The sentence:

Thinking shapes one's attitude towards life and when the net of thoughts just does not fit the net of actions one is to encounter on a daily basis one feels uneasy - at the very least.

Now, before I start handing out some explanation, let me kindly remind us all, that 1.) I am not a linguistic expert and 2.) it was a sentence in a context. If you have not read the original entry, I advise you to go back and read it (again).

Now, with a slightly dead-brain - oh my, I do have to allow myself to declare to be tired and out-of-my-bests, I do have to learn doing this, so...

The entry was about how writing English leads me to thinking English - I bet that is all clear for us... If you are to gather your thoughts and pour them into words, you ought to have them in the same language. Otherwise your thoghts get lost and/or tangled inbetween translation. I learned translation and I also learned that it never means putting the equivalents of the words (in the other language) into the same order as they were in the original language. Translators must feel the text as a whole, must get the whole idea behind the lines.

If one keeps thinking using one special language in one's head - that is ok. That is just about everyone does in the world. Not a big surprise. It's one's original language. Or so it must be, I suppose. Basically this is the same language one uses to communicate with the people around.

If one has a language in the head, but has to use another one for getting around in the outside of the head that must be a burden. Ideas in the head, feelings arosen within are all connected to a language, but when these must be shown to the outside world, translation has to step in. And there comes the uneasiness I referred to - for it is nice to be able to translate all those things, but wouldn't it be nicer to NOT HAVE to translate them at all?

Languages on the other hand, do have an influence on one's mind. It's a sort of an egg-hen problem - you know, the which was first type of problem. Some languages are see things and events of the world as a part of a big scheme, therefore their sentences are chiefly made up of coordinate clauses. Was it a bunch of people that had this vision that made up such a language or was it the language that formed the people?

Oh my, I feel like I'm getting lost in my sentences again...If anyone has followed me until this point, well, have my congratulations...

Some other languages (or bunch of people - see how I try to avoid mentioning words like 'nation') prefer order above all, for the system is more important, the relationship between thing is more important than the WHOLE scene in general. These languages are filled with sub-ordinate clauses for example. When the sentence clearly defines the role of one particle in relation to the other.

If you're still with me, have my sympathy....

Let's suppose one is coming from the big scheme language, with her mind set to thinking in generalities, with her mind seeking the role of a particle within the big scheme - let that be me, to be honest...

Take this someone into a world of subordinates and she'll find it hard at first, not that really hard at second and... She begins writing and thinking in this language, things are changing within her brain...yet she still lives in the same environment...where all the members of her family and all the friends she can get in real touch with are thinking the same 'old' way - at the same time she has entered into friendly relationships with people on the other language...

Okay, I'm lost.

I'd rather be cleaning up the hen house.

I'm glad to have you as friends.

And I might return with my ideas on the subject, but now... not now.

*headed for the chicken house - supplying animals with fresh hay* Is there anything better in the world then gathering hay and spreading it over the floor of the house?

Do you have to write anything and read anything and learn anything at all? When you can make animals happy and make yourself feel needed by such simple deeds?

Oh, my.

I'll be posting a reference to the state I've been recently - and the way I found some way out :)

by your help again, of course...

See? I can't, I just can not tear the two apart. But at the moment, it does not bother me.

Thanks for listening.

I guess this was just as much incomprehensible as the original sentence I started with.

Wasn't it?

Tell me - Have no mercy on me - be honest.

writing in English - to Beth

UPDATE:

since Blogger ate my precious photo, I decided to put music here instead. Music by Jane Siberry. Matches my current mood. How good is that, to find a music that suits you.

If I got it right, Beth, commenting on the piece of path revealed below, asked about the difficulties of producing such *pretty* fragments of writing in a language that is not someone's basic/mother one.

(Basically, I am overwhelmed by the encouragement and praise I get for the things I write. This one from Beth is no exception to that.)

Now, this question is a good one.

As you probably know, I started writing this blog in Hungarian, but when I noticed I had international visitors I decided to enable them to communicate with me by letting them know about me and my feelings. So, I had to switch to English.

Writing in English allows me to improve my knowledge of this second language. Sometimes I translate Hungarian prose or poetry by my own and some of my friends help me upgrade these translations.

When I was a teenager I wrote some *coughs* poetry in Hungarian. After due consideration, one might say that some of my English *poems* are better than those I wrote back some 15-20 years ago in my own language. Why? Another mistery. I realized pretty early that I don't measure up to the Hungarian poets I admire. That's when I stopped writing in Hungarian.

Blogging somehow developed into a combined writing. I decided to mirror my soul and spiritual path here. At present, 'Forest thoughts' is the place where I let my graphomaniac self freely out. I shared one of my *poems* just recently with a highschool girlfriend of mine and I remember the shame I felt when I confessed that I wrote these in another language. She said she did not mind it and liked that thing anyway :) She was kind to me I guess.

Writing in English involves thinking English and here come the difficulties.

For it results that at times it makes me feel detached, at other, schisophrenic, at some insignificant others still, a genius. These latter do not last very long, though - don't get me wrong, please :)))

And to answer my friend's question - it is easy, for it entertains, educates and inspires me. I love finding matching photos to mood-inspired writings and some of my writings were inspired by photos, too. Also, it is very hard because you can not always be sure about the meaning and what your selected words convey to the reader. Will s/he get the same impression? Will my range and pick of words and expressions mislead him/her? If I tailor my inner self to a language how will it affect my outer life, that is my life when not writing?

In fact I have come to a point where writing in English has started taking its tolls on me. And in not a good way. And that is sad. For I like writing. And writing in English, too.
For the past days I have been considering giving blogging up. Or giving up writing. Or giving up writing in English. Thinking shapes one's attitude towards life and when the net of thoughts just does not fit the net of actions one is to encounter on a daily basis one feels uneasy - at the very least.

Beth, was this answer satisfactory?

For those who are concerned, and for the time being, I decided NOT to give up either blogging, or writing. But I will have to work out the things for me.

On request: love and love

This is a post I am quite late with. I promised working on it to Anniina but I'm sure it will please those of you out there also, who have an appetite for linguistics and hidden meaning of words.

Let's set up definitions love type1 and type2. Type1 is for a love that is between married couples and in general, between a man and a woman. Some more 'up-to-date' persons might add some other combinations to the list, but this is my blog. Type2 however is something one usually feels towards his/her children, God, friends, fellow beings - provided that said person has any of those.

In the Hungarian language there are two words for the feeling(s) that the English compounds as 'love'. These are nouns and I admit, that if we need the verb form, the verb is the same for both feelings.

The English says:

'I love you' - and upon circumstances and speakers the reader/listener decides whether it is love type1 or type2.

The Hungarian says:

'Szeretlek' - and the situation is the same, although the Hungarian, being an agglutinative language, needs only one word for what the English uses three. But that's not my point. Not now.

But behold, when it comes to nouns.

The English says:

'love' - and one decides whether the speaker/writer refers to type1 or type2. Is it a love between a man and his dog or his womanly partner? between friends or very good friends?

The Hungarian on the other hand, says:

'szerelem'- for type1

'szeretet' - for type2.

Most of our original words have their own roots and thus, one (who's not brainwashed enough) might dig into words in search of something treasured - and usually there is a find to excavate for.

You might have noticed that both of our nouns start with 'szer' and end up differently: 'etet' and 'elem'. Got that, right?

'szer' is a very difficult word to describe - even for most Hungarians it has lost its original meaning. We still have this root, though in words like 'szerszám' - meaning instrument, utensil, tool. In which the 'szám', means 'a piece of'. And also in 'szervez' - meaning 'to organize'. In which the 'vez' - might be a shortened form for 'leading/leader'.

I conclude 'szer' being a noun that refers to something that is not really physical, but essential. If you perform a ritual, you participate a 'szer'. Think of the English (though Latin-derived) ceremony. See the 'szer' at the beginning of the word?

'szer' is a ceremony, during which on can practice rites and his/her beliefs.

Now, let's get back to the back of the loves, type1 and2.

'elem' - (noun) means particle, component, piece of, factor, unit.

I conclude that this addition makes 'szerelem' (love, type1) something of a ritual that is part of a higher ceremony.

'etet' - (verb) means to feed, to supply one with food. (on a side note: 'itat' - (verb) means to supply one with water...pls note the t-t's in both verbs)

Following my logic towards the creation of Hungarian expressions, this turns 'szeretet' (love, type2) to a rite that nourishes. A sequence and package of events and feelings that leaves one fed and comforted. It is inevitable if one is to live and develop.

Your turn: can you name any other language, be it real or fictional, alive or long forgotten, where the same phenomenon exists? And if your native language is not English, please inform me/us about the word for love. And love.

I set my mind not to bother you with pronounciation, as that's not the main issue here. However, if you are interested in how to say aloud these Hungarian words, just go ahead and ask me.

speaking of

languages, I am troubled now.

I started this blog more than a year ago. I started it in Hungarian, for it was of no question for me. This language has always been the primary way of expression for me. This is how I absorb rhymes and poetry in general this is where the words crumble like a good piece of bread in your mouth - you feel each particle and get nourished by the compound as well. Never in my life have I expected to be able to feel the same way towards any other language. Cause those are secondary ones.

I had a somehow painful flick with Spanish for a while and had some times learning German too, but the list of my secondary languages, composed of only three languages is and has always been topped off by English.

I never thought I would be able to write in English and by writing I mean something that has meaning beyond words, something that not unlike to a dress covers and reveals, plays with you and comforts you.

I sometimes am surprised by what I am able to 'produce' in this second language of mine... I am sometimes mad at not being able to do something similar in the language I adore the most... as if from time to time I abandoned my husband for a lover, and kept returning home....and each time I enjoy the flirt...

yet feeling somehow...misplaced.

I, just today translated a poem a friend wrote.

I felt the need because I felt the poem so much it came under my skin instantly.

But I did not write it...did I?

I admit having done some alterations to the text, but you know how it goes with translation. It's not the words you translate its the meaning.

I am unsure.

Why am I not able to use my beloved first language for expressing myself?

Is this an excuse to escape from reality?

I think I'm going to gulp down some good Hungarian poetry.

Cheers.

Your opinion are welcomed.