Sci-fi: věda a fikce

Tři králové science-fiction: Clarke, Asimov, Brabury

1. Zjistěte si něco více o A. C. Clarkovi  a jeho díle.

viz např.
http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/a/arthur_c_clarke.html
http://www.clarkefoundation.org/
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qLdeEjdbWE
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_C._Clarke%27s_Mysterious_World
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Fall_of_Moondust
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xdr6zXXrTbg


2. Přeložte následující text (úryvek z knihy Měsíční prach). Pečlivě ověřujte technické termíny.

A.C.Clarke - Fall of Moondust

When a man falls on the Moon, he usually has time to do something about it, for his nerves and muscles are designed to deal with a sixfold greater gravity. Yet when Chief Engineer Lawrence toppled off the ski, the distance was so short that he had no time to react. Almost at once, he hit the dust--and was engulfed in darkness.

He could see absolutely nothing, except for a very faint fluorescence from the illuminated instrument panel inside his suit. With extreme caution, he began to feel around in the softly resisting, half-fluid substance in which he was floundering, seeking some solid object for support. There was nothing; he could not even guess which direction was up.

A mind-sapping despair, which seemed to drain his body of all its strength, almost overwhelmed him. His heart was thumping with that erratic beat that heralds the approach of panic, and the final overthrow of reason. He had seen other men be- come screaming, struggling animals, and knew that he was moving swiftly to join them.

There was just enough left of his rational mind to remember that only a few minutes ago he had saved Lawson from this same fate, but he was not in a position to appreciate the irony. He had to concentrate all his remaining strength of will on regaining control of himself, and checking the thumping in his chest that seemed about to tear him to pieces.

And then, loud and clear in his helmet speaker, came a sound so utterly unexpected that the waves of panic ceased to batter against the island of his soul. It was Tom Lawson--laughing.

The laughter was brief, and it was followed by an apology.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lawrence--I couldn't help it. You look so funny there, waving your legs in the sky."

The Chief Engineer froze in his suit. His fear vanished instantly, to be replaced by anger. He was furious with Lawson, but much more furious with himself.

Of course he had been in no danger; in his inflated suit, he was like a balloon floating upon water, and equally incapable of sinking. Now that he knew what had happened, he could sort matters out by himself. He kicked purposefully with his legs, paddled with his hands, and rolled round his center of gravity--and vision returned as the dust streamed off his helmet. He had sunk, at the most, ten centimeters, and the ski had been within reach all the time. It was a remarkable achievement to have missed it completely while he was flailing around like a stranded octopus.

With as much dignity as he could muster, he grabbed the ski and pulled himself aboard. He did not trust himself to speak, for he was still breathless from his unnecessary exertions, and his voice might betray his recent panic. And he was still angry; he would not have made such a fool of himself in the days when he was working constantly out on the lunar surface. Now he was out of touch. Why, the last time he had worn a suit had been for his annual proficiency check, and then he had never even stepped outside the air lock.

Nesmrtelný Shakespeare

Najděte na prekladani.capsa.cz soubor Shakespeare_sonet66_13prekladu.
1. V pohodě a klidu si všechny přečtěte a přemýšlejte, který z překladů je vám nejsympatičtější a proč. Vložte svůj názor do komentáře k tomuto blogu.

Audio anglicky
Audio Hilský

2. Proč vlastně existuje tolik českých podob jednoho anglického textu?

Malujeme obraz

Každý popis je jen chudým odrazem krásy, kterou vnímáme zrakem. Jen ti nejlepší spisovatelé dokážou i slovy kouzlit tak, že nám krajina ožívá před očima.


http://www.sparkyourself.org/blog/grapes-of-wrath-writing-exercise
http://anglistika.webnode.cz/products/steinbeck-john-the-grapes-of-wrath-/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northwestern_Oklahoma
http://www.library.cornell.edu/Reps/DOCS/landrush.htm

John Steinbeck – The Grapes of Wrath (1939)

TO THE RED COUNTRY and part of the gray country of Oklahoma, the last rains came gently, and they did not cut the scarred earth. The plows crossed and recrossed the rivulet marks. The last rains lifted the corn quickly and scattered weed colonies and grass along the sides of the roads so that the gray country and the dark red country began to disappear under a green cover. In the last part of May the sky grew pale and the clouds that had hung in high puffs for so long in the spring were dissipated. The sun flared down on the growing corn day after day until a line of brown spread along the edge of each green bayonet. The clouds appeared, and went away, and in a while they did not try any more. The weeds grew darker green to protect themselves, and they did not spread any more. The surface of the earth crusted, a thin hard crust, and as the sky became pale, so the earth became pale, pink in the red country and white in the gray country.

In the water-cut gullies the earth dusted down in dry little streams. Gophers and ant lions started small avalanches. And as the sharp sun struck day after day, the leaves of the young corn became less stiff and erect; they bent in a curve at first, and then, as the central ribs of strength grew weak, each leaf tilted downward. Then it was June, and the sun shone more fiercely. The brown lines on the corn leaves widened and moved in on the central ribs. The weeds frayed and edged back toward their roots. The air was thin and the sky more pale; and every day the earth paled.

In the roads where the teams moved, where the wheels milled the ground and the hooves of the horses beat the ground, the dirt crust broke and the dust formed. Every moving thing lifted the dust into the air: a walking man lifted a thin layer as high as his waist, and a wagon lifted the dust as high as the fence tops, and an automobile boiled a cloud behind it. The dust was long in settling back again.

When June was half gone, the big clouds moved up out of Texas and the Gulf, high heavy clouds, rainheads. The men in the fields looked up at the clouds and sniffed at them and held wet fingers up to sense the wind. And the horses were nervous while the clouds were up. The rainheads dropped a little spattering and hurried on to some other country. Behind them the sky was pale again and the sun flared. In the dust there were drop craters where the rain had fallen, and there were clean splashes on the corn, and that was all.

A gentle wind followed the rain clouds, driving them on northward, a wind that softly clashed the drying corn. A day went by and the wind increased, steady, unbroken by gusts. The dust from the roads fluffed up and spread out and fell on the weeds beside the fields, and fell into the fields a little way. Now the wind grew strong and hard and it worked at the rain crust in the corn fields. Little by little the sky was darkened by the mixing dust, and the wind felt over the earth, loosened the dust, and carried it away. The wind grew stronger. The rain crust broke and the dust lifted up out of the fields and drove gray plumes into the air like sluggish smoke. The corn threshed the wind and made a dry, rushing sound. The finest dust did not settle back to earth now, but disappeared into the darkening sky.

Cesta je prach, a štěrk, a udusaná hlína...

Překládání písňových textů je možná snazší, než se zprvu může zdát. Probuďte svou fantazii! :)


Vyberte si jednu z následujících písní a pokuste se napsat k melodii český text. Tentokrát nám nejde o překlad! Obsah může být jakýkoli, jediným kritériem je zpívatelnost hotového textu.


Houston
Seasons in the sun
Peatbog soldiers

Rezervní možnost: Waltzing Mathilda

--------------------------------------------

Lee  Hazelwood: HOUSTON

Pavel Bobek, český text Jiří Grossmann

Well it's lonesome in this big town everybody puts me down

I'm a face without a name just a walkin' in the rain

I'm going back to Houston Houston Houston

I got holes in both of my shoes and I'm a walkin' case of the blues

I saw a dollar yesterday but the wind blew it away

I'm going back to Houston Houston Houston

I haven't eaten in about a week and I'm so hugry when I walk I squeak

Nobody calls me friend it's sad the shape I'm in

I'm going back to Houston Houston Houston

I got a girl waitin' there for me where at least she said she'd be

I got a home and a big warm bed and a feather pillow for my head

I'm going back to Houston Houston Houston

I take a bus or take an old freight train I come ride or walk it's all the same

I'm goin' back where they know my face and I'm never gonna leave that place

I'm going back to Houston Houston Houston

Well it's lonesome in this big town everybody puts me down

I'm a face without a name yeah I'm a walkin' in the rain

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KH8EpsRkjAk
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nt6FkIj9oYU

Jacques Brel – Le Moribond

Terry Jacks – Seasons in the sun

Karel Gott – Léta prázdnin (Zdeněk Borovec)

http://www.karaoketexty.cz/texty-pisni/jacks-terry/seasons-in-the-sun-214477

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbtZqlLVNNc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YfgV8chRNbw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cd_Fdly3rX8

Adieu l´Émile je t´aimais bien

Adieu l´Émile je t´aimais bien, tu sais

On a chanté les mêmes vins

On a chanté les mêmes filles

On a chanté les mêmes chagrins

Adieu l´Émile je vais mourir

C´est dur de mourir au printemps, tu sais

Mais j´pars aux fleurs la paix dans l´âme

Car vu qu´t´es bon comme du pain blanc

Je sais qu´tu prendras soin d´ma femme

J´veux qu´on rie

J´veux qu´on danse

J´veux qu´on s´amuse comme des fous

J´veux qu´on rie

J´veux qu´on danse

Quand c´est qu´on m´mettra dans l´trou

Adieu Curé je t´aimais bien

Adieu Curé je t´aimais bien, tu sais

On n´était pas du même bord

On n´était pas du même chemin

Mais on cherchait le même port

Adieu Curé je vais mourir

C´est dur de mourir au printemps, tu sais

Mais j´pars aux fleurs la paix dans l´âme

Car vu que t´étais son confident

Je sais qu´tu prendras soin d´ma femme

J´veux qu´on rie

J´veux qu´on danse

J´veux qu´on s´amuse comme des fous

J´veux qu´on rie

J´veux qu´on danse

Quand c´est qu´on m´mettra dans l´trou

Adieu l´Antoine je t´aimais pas bien

Adieu l´Antoine je t´aimais pas bien, tu sais

J´en crève de crever aujourd´hui

Alors que toi tu es bien vivant

Et même plus solide que l´ennui

Adieu l´Antoine je vais mourir

C´est dur de mourir au printemps, tu sais

Mais j´pars aux fleurs la paix dans l´âme

Car vu que tu étais son amant

Je sais qu´tu prendras soin d´ma femme

J´veux qu´on rie

J´veux qu´on danse

J´veux qu´on s´amuse comme des fous

J´veux qu´on rie

J´veux qu´on danse

Quand c´est qu´on m´mettra dans l´trou

Adieu ma femme je t´aimais bien

Adieu ma femme je t´aimais bien, tu sais

Mais je prends l´train pour le bon Dieu

Je prends le train qui est avant l´tien

Mais on prend tous le train qu´on peut

Adieu ma femme, je vais mourir

C´est dur de mourir au printemps, tu sais

Mais j´pars aux fleurs les yeux fermés, ma femme

Car vu qu´j´les ai fermés souvent

Je sais qu´tu prendras soin d´mon âme

J´veux qu´on rie

J´veux qu´on danse

J´veux qu´on s´amuse comme des fous

J´veux qu´on rie

J´veux qu´on danse

Quand c´est qu´on m´mettra dans l´trou

Terry Jacks

Goodbye to you my trusted friend

We've known each other since we

Were nine or ten

Together we've climbed hills and trees

Learned of love and abc's

Skinned our hearts and

Skinned our knees

Goodbye my friend it's hard to die

When all the birds are singing

In the sky

Now that spring is in the air

Pretty girls are everywhere

Think of me and I'll be there

We had joy we had fun we had

Seasons in the sun

But the hills that we climbed were

Just seasons out of time

Goodbye papa please pray for me

I was the black sheep of the family

You tried to teach me right from wrong

Too much wine and too much song

Wonder how I got along

Goodbye papa it's hard to die

When all the birds are singing in the sky

Now that the spring is in the air

Little children everywhere

When you see them I'll be there

We had joy we had fun we had

Seasons in the sun

But the wine and the songs like the

Seasons have all gone

We had joy we had fun we had

Seasons in the sun

But the wine and the song like

The seasons have all gone

Goodbye Michelle my little one

You gave me love and helped

Me find the sun

And every time that I was down

You would always come around

And get my feet back on

The ground

Goodbye Michelle it's hard to die

When all the birds are singing in

The sky

Now that the spring is in the air

With the flowers everywhere

I wish that we could both be there

We had joy we had fun we had

Seasons in the sun

But the hills that we climbed were

Just seasons out of time

We had joy we had fun we had

Seasons in the sun

But the wine and the song like the

Seasons have all gone

We had joy we had fun we had

Seasons in the sun

But the wine and the song like the

Seasons have all gone

We had joy we had fun we had

Seasons in the sun

But the wine and the song like the

Seasons have all gone

Karel Gott - Léta prázdnin

Buď sbohem, brácho z dětských let,

byl's lepší v počtech a já zas lépe čet',

to všechno dávno pokryl sníh,

pil jsem z dlaní tvých, ty z mých,

jeden pramen, jeden smích.

Tak sbohem brácho, musím jít,

vždyť malí můžeme jen chvíli být

a pak už končí léta her,

končí všem a to je fér,

tak to chápej, tak to ber.

Svět byl fajn, svět byl náš,

léta prázdnin, slunce, pláž,

pryč je smích školních tříd,

teď už musím něčím být.

Buď sbohem táto, ty ses dřel,

abych já bezstarostný spánek měl

a byl to se mnou leckdy kříž,

já jsem do větru byl spíš,

rodičům jen na obtíž.

Tak sbohem táto, musím jít,

vždyť malí můžeme jen chvíli být

a pak už dětství je to tam,

už se musím starat sám,

kudy v nouzi, kudy kam.

Svět byl fajn, svět byl náš,

léta prázdnin, slunce, pláž,

pryč je smích školních tříd,

teď už musím něčím být.

Buď sbohem lásko, tak se měj,

měl jsem tě ze všech děvčat nejraděj

a teď odcházím jak hráč,

nechám tě tu ronit pláč,

no aspoň vidíš, co jsem zač.

Tak sbohem lásko, musím jít,

vždyť malí můžeme jen chvíli být

a zrání má svůj rub a líc,

nebuď smutná, dej si říct,

vždyť kluků k světu, těch je víc.

Peat Bogs Soldiers

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peat_Bog_Soldiers

Far and wide as the eye can wander,

Heath and bog are everywhere,

Not a bird sings out to cheer us,

Oaks are standing, gaunt and bare.

[Chorus:]

We are the peat bog soldiers.

We're marching with our spades,

To the bog.

Up and down the guards are pacing,

No one, no one can go through.

Flight would mean a sure death facing,

Guns and barbed wire greet our view.

But for us there is no complaining,

Winter will in time be past.

One day we shall cry rejoicing,

"Homeland dear, you're mine at last!"

[Final Chorus:]

Then will the peat bog soldiers,

March no more with spades,

To the bog.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ptcY3sS6BO0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u56HEuXClXc

More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmania.com/peat_bog_soldiers_lyrics_pete_seeger.html

All about Pete Seeger: http://www.musictory.com/music/Pete+Seeger

Dialog

Překládat rozhovor mezi postavami je celkem snadné - pokud víte, kdo postavy jsou, jak uvažují, jak se vyjadřují. Každý člověk má svůj osobitý styl, a totéž čekáme i od literární postavy.
Proto máte tentokrát k dispozici text, jehož hrdiny velmi pravděpodobně dobře znáte. Pokuste se přeložit tučně vyznačenou část.
Tip: Přečtěte si hotový překlad nahlas, nebo požádejte někoho o spolupráci a celou scénu si přehrajte jako na divadle. Pokud se vám některé repliky špatně pamatují a špatně vyslovují, je s překladem pravděpodobně něco v nepořádku.

Stylové roviny v překladu

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - THE WEIGHING OF THE WANDS

When Harry woke up on Sunday morning, it took him a moment to remember why

he felt so miserable and worried. Then the memory of the previous night rolled

over him. He sat up and ripped back the curtains of his own four-poster, intending

to talk to Ron, to force Ron to believe him - only to find that Ron's bed was empty;

he had obviously gone down to breakfast.

Harry dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. The

moment he appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into

applause again. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest

of the Gryffindors, all treating him like some sort of hero, was not inviting; it was

that, however, or stay here and allow himself to be cornered by the Creevey

brothers, who were both beckoning frantically to him to join them. He walked

resolutely over to the portrait hole, pushed it open, climbed out of it, and found

himself face-to-face with Hermione.

"Hello," she said, holding up a stack of toast, which she was carrying in a napkin.

"I brought you this. . . . Want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," said Harry gratefully.

They went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the

Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake, where the

Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly

morning, and they kept moving, munching their toast, as Harry told Hermione

exactly what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before.

To his immense relief, Hermione accepted his story without question.

"Well, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," she said when he'd finished

telling her about the scene in the chamber off the Hall. "The look on your face

when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in?

Because Moody's right, Harry... I don't think any student could have done it. . .

they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's -"

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted.

Hermione hesitated.

"Erm. . . yes. . . he was at breakfast," she said.

"Does he still think I entered myself?"

"Well. . . no, I don't think so . . . not really," said Hermione awkwardly.

"What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?"

"Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione said despairingly. "He's jealous!"

"Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of

himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Look," said Hermione patiently, "it's always you who gets all the attention, you

know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing Harry open his

mouth furiously. "I know you don't ask for it.. . but - well - you know, Ron's got

all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and

you're really famous - he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you,

and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time

too many. . .

"Great," said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he

wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it.... People gawping at my forehead

everywhere I go. . ."

"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the

only way to sort this out."

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said, so

loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe

I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or -"

"That's not funny," said Hermione quietly. "That's not funny at all." She looked

extremely anxious. "Harry, I've been thinking - you know what we've got to do,

don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?"

"Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the -"

"Write to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep

him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. . . . It's almost as if he

expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out

with me -"

"Come off it," said Harry, looking around to check that they couldn't be overheard,

but the grounds were quite deserted. "He came back to the country just because

my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him

someone's entered me in the Triwizard Tournament -"

"He'd want you to tell him," said Hermione sternly. "He's going to find out

anyway."

"How?"

"Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet," said Hermione, very seriously. "This

tournament's famous, and you're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't

anything in the Daily Prophet about you competing. . . . You're already in half the

books about You-Know-Who, you know.. . and Sirius would rather hear it from

you, I know he would."

Jack London, námořník a dobrodruh

1. Přečtěte si začátek povídky Jacka Londona. Pokuste se charakterizovat jeho autorský styl - své názory napište do komentáře k tomuto blogu.
2. Vyhledejte v textu místa, která by mohla při překladu dělat potíže.
3. Přeložte tučně označený text.

Jack London: THAT DEAD MEN RISE UP NEVER

The month in which my seventeenth birthday arrived I signed on before the mast on the Sophie Sutherland, a three-topmast schooner bound on a seven-months’ seal-hunting cruise to the coast of Japan.  We sailed from San Francisco, and immediately I found confronting me a problem of no inconsiderable proportions.  There were twelve men of us in the forecastle, ten of whom were hardened, tarry-thumbed sailors.  Not alone was I a youth and on my first voyage, but I had for shipmates men who had come through the hard school of the merchant service of Europe.  As boys, they had had to perform their ship’s duty, and, in addition, by immemorial sea custom, they had had to be the slaves of the ordinary and able-bodied seamen.  When they became ordinary seamen they were still the slaves of the able-bodied.  Thus, in the forecastle, with the watch below, an able seaman, lying in his bunk, will order an ordinary seaman to fetch him his shoes or bring him a drink of water.  Now the ordinary seaman may be lying in his bunk.  He is just as tired as the able seaman.  Yet he must get out of his bunk and fetch and carry.  If he refuses, he will be beaten.  If, perchance, he is so strong that he can whip the able seaman, then all the able seamen, or as many as may be necessary, pitch upon the luckless devil and administer the beating.

My problem now becomes apparent.  These hard-bit Scandinavian sailors had come through a hard school.  As boys they had served their mates, and as able seamen they looked to be served by other boys.  I was a boy—withal with a man’s body.  I had never been to sea before—withal I was a good sailor and knew my business.  It was either a case of holding my own with them or of going under.  I had signed on as an equal, and an equal I must maintain myself, or else endure seven months of hell at their hands.  And it was this very equality they resented.  By what right was I an equal?  I had not earned that high privilege.  I had not endured the miseries they had endured as maltreated boys or bullied ordinaries.  Worse than that, I was a land-lubber making his first voyage.  And yet, by the injustice of fate, on the ship’s articles I was their equal.

My method was deliberate, and simple, and drastic.  In the first place, I resolved to do my work, no matter how hard or dangerous it might be, so well that no man would be called upon to do it for me.  Further, I put ginger in my muscles.  I never malingered when pulling on a rope, for I knew the eagle eyes of my forecastle mates were squinting for just such evidences of my inferiority.  I made it a point to be among the first of the watch going on deck, among the last going below, never leaving a sheet or tackle for some one else to coil over a pin.  I was always eager for the run aloft for the shifting of topsail sheets and tacks, or for the setting or taking in of topsails; and in these matters I did more than my share.

Furthermore, I was on a hair-trigger of resentment myself.  I knew better than to accept any abuse or the slightest patronizing.  At the first hint of such, I went off—I exploded.  I might be beaten in the subsequent fight, but I left the impression that I was a wild-cat and that I would just as willingly fight again.  My intention was to demonstrate that I would tolerate no imposition.  I proved that the man who imposed on me must have a fight on his hands.  And doing my work well, the innate justice of the men, assisted by their wholesome dislike for a clawing and rending wild-cat ruction, soon led them to give over their hectoring.  After a bit of strife, my attitude was accepted, and it was my pride that I was taken in as an equal in spirit as well as in fact.  From then on, everything was beautiful, and the voyage promised to be a happy one.

Jak překládat povídku

1. Někdy je to těžší, než překládat román... proč asi?
2. V capse najdete dvě povídky Raye Bradburyho - The reincarnate a Murder. Vyberte si namátkou jednu z nich a zkuste přeložit pár vět ze začátku. Jaké problémy musíte řešit?

3. Vyhledejte v povídkách výrazy, v nichž bude třeba pečlivě volit z thesauru slovní zásoby.

...a jeden zajimavy odkaz!

Nonsens v literatuře

Starší překlady:
http://prekladanipvk.blogspot.cz/2009_02_22_archive.html
http://prekladanipvk.blogspot.cz/2009/10/prekladatel-v-kraji-divu.html
http://prekladanipvk.blogspot.cz/2011/11/lysperni-jezleni-ti-druzi.html 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/How_Doth_the_Little_Crocodile


CHAPTER II The Pool of Tears

“Curiouser and curiouser!” cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English). “Now, I'm opening out like the largest telescope that ever was! Good-bye. feet!" (for when she looked down at her feet, they seemed to be almost out of sight, they were getting so far off). “Oh. my poor little feet. I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I’m sure I shan’t be able! I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you: you must manage the best way you can - but I must be kind to them”, thought Alice, “or perhaps they won’t walk the way I want to go! Let me see. I'll give
them a new pair of boots every Christmas.'’
And she went on planning to herself how she would manage it. “They must go by the earner." she thought: "and how funny it'll seem, sending presents to one's own feet! And how odd the directions will look!

Alice's Right Foot, Esq.
Hearthrug,
near the Fender,
(with Alice's love).

Oh dear, what nonsense I'm talking!“
Just at this moment her head struck against the roof of the hall: in fact she was now rather more than nine feet high, and she at once took up the little golden key and hurried off to the garden door.
Poor Alice! It was as much as she could do. lying down on one side, to look through into the garden with one eye: but to get through was more hopeless than ever: she sat down and began to cry again.
‘‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself.*’ said Alice, “a great girl like you”, (she might well say this). ‘*to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment. I tell you!*’ But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool around her. about four inches deep, and reaching half down the hall.

Kouzlo vesmíru

Arthur C. Clarke. Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury.
To jsou tři králové zlatého věku science-fiction, spisovatelé fantazie, která se v mnoha případech stala běžnou realitou našeho dnešního života.

Asimovovy tři zákony robotiky jsou dodnes předmětem diskuse a sporů - mezi programátory a odborníky zabývajícími se vývojem umělé inteligence (AI). Nikdo už ovšem nediskutuje o prospěšnosti geostacionárních družic...  :) ale málokdo ví, že u jejich zrodu stál jeden mladý spisovatel.

A.C. Clarke byl odborným vzděláním fyzik a matematik, a náš život ovlivnil víc, než si myslíme:
Během druhé světové války sloužil v britském královském letectvu (RAF) jako instruktor pro práci s radarem. V říjnu 1945 otiskl v časopise Wireless World myšlenku, jak pomocí tří družic zajistit celosvětový příjem televizního signálu. Bohužel pro něj však je v Británii k udělení patentu potřeba dvou fungujících exemplářů vynálezu. Takto mohl jen v roce 1962, kdy se jeho myšlenka uskutečnila, publikovat v časopise článek Jak jsem přišel o miliardu dolarů vynalézáním Telstaru ve volném čase. Díky tomu je dnes známý jako vynálezce principu telekomunikační družice a na jeho počest je geostacionární oběžná dráha někdy nazývána Clarkova.
http://cs.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_C._Clarke

Jeho vědeckofantastické romány jsou podloženy hlubokou znalostí vesmíru a astronomie; je až překvapující, nakolik například jeho popisy blízkého pohledu na vzdálené planety a měsíce Sluneční soustavy odpovídají skutečnosti, zprostředkované o až desítky let později sondami NASA Galileo a Cassini (Huygens). Při překládání Clarkových děl je skutečně nutné chápat aspoň základní fyzikální zákony - a hlavně, ověřovat, ověřovat, ověřovat...

Ukázka je z románu snad úplně nejznámějšího: 2010: Vesmírná odyssea 2 (2010: Odyssey Two). Na chvíli se ocitneme v kosmické lodi ve vnějším pásmu Sluneční soustavy, v blízkosti plynného obra Jupitera.

Fulltext available here
Trailer
Jupiter ignition

More about Galilean satellites - NASA

Tipy:
1. seznámení s termíny
2. pochopení situace
3. vizualizace

The View from Lagrange

      Astronomy was full of such intriguing but meaningless coincidences. The most famous was the fact that, from the Earth, both Sun and Moon have the same apparent diameter. Here at the L.1 libration point, which Big Brother had chosen for its cosmic balancing act on the gravitational tightrope between Jupiter and Io, a similar phenomenon occurred. Planet and satellite appeared exactly the same size.

      And what a size! Not the miserable half-degree of Sun and Moon, but forty times their diameter - sixteen hundred times their area. ‘The sight of either was enough to fill the mind with awe and wonder; together, the spectacle was overwhelming.

      Every forty-two hours, they would go through their complete cycle of phases; when Io was new, Jupiter was full, and vice versa. But even when the Sun was hiding behind Jupiter and the planet presented only its nightside, it was unmistakably there - a huge black disk eclipsing the stars. Sometimes that blackness would be momentarily rent by lightning flashes lasting for many seconds, from electrical storms far larger than the Earth.

      On the opposite side of the sky, always keeping the same face toward its giant master, Io would be a sluggishly boiling cauldron of reds and oranges, with occasional yellow clouds erupting from one of its volcanoes, and falling swiftly back to the surface. Like Jupiter, but on a slightly longer time scale, Io was a world without geography. Its face was remodelled in a matter of decades - Jupiter’s, in a matter of days.

      As Io waned toward its last quarter, so the vast, intricately banded Jovian cloudscape would light up beneath the tiny, distant sun. Sometimes the shadow of Io itself, or one of the outer satellites, would drift across the face of Jupiter; while every revolution would show the planet-sized vortex of the Great Red Spot - a hurricane that had endured for centuries if not for millennia.

      Poised between such wonders, the crew of Leonov had material for lifetimes of research - but the natural objects of the Jovian system were at the very bottom of their list of priorities. Big Brother was Number 1; though the ships had now moved in to only five kilometres, Tanya still refused to allow any direct physical contact. ‘I’m going to wait,’ she said, ‘until we’re in a position to make a quick getaway. We’ll sit and watch - until our launch window opens. Then we’ll consider our next move.’

      It was true that Nina had finally grounded on Big Brother, after a leisurely fifty-minute fall. This had allowed Vasili to calculate the object’s mass as a surprisingly low 950,000 tons, which gave it about the density of air. Presumably it was hollow - which provoked endless speculation about what might be inside.

      But there were plenty of practical, everyday problems to take their minds off these greater issues. Housekeeping chores aboard Leonov and Discovery absorbed ninety per cent of their working time, though operations’ were much more efficient since the two ships had been coupled by a flexible docking connection. Curnow had finally convinced Tanya that Discovery’s carousel would not suddenly seize up and tear the ships to pieces, so it had become possible to move freely from one vessel to the other merely by opening and closing two sets of airtight doors. Spacesuits and time-consuming EVAs were no longer necessary - to the great delight of everyone except Max, who loved going outside and exercising with his broomstick.

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Hoj ty štědrý večere,
ty tajemný svátku,
cože komu dobrého
neseš na památku?


Znám křišťálovou studánku
kde nejhlubší je les
tam roste tmavé kapradí
a vůkol rudý vřes.


Pod tou skálou, kde proud řeky syčí,
tam kde ční červený kamení


From this valley they say you are going
We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile
For they say you are taking the sunshine
That has brightened our pathways awhile


John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
But his soul goes marching on.


Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

Veď mě dál cesto má
veď mě dál, vždyť i já
tam kde končíš chtěl bych  dojít
Veď mě dál cesto má


Oh when the saints go marching in
Oh when the saints go marching in
oh I’d want to be in that number
when the saints go marching in

Výběr písní k překladu do češtiny

1. Queen – Bohemian rhapsody http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ9rUzIMcZQ  (2 stanzas: mama… born at all)
2. Sloop John B. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubAjEjkJIJo
3. Amazing grace http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYMLMj-SibU        text: http://www.pohodar.com/preklady/AmazingGrace.htm

Seznamte se nejprve se všemi navrženými písněmi - každá má úplně jiný charakter. Vyberte si tu, která je vám nejsympatičtější, a pokuste se o překlad. Nejste vůbec vázáni obsahem originálu! Jediné, covás limituje, je hudba.
Hudební a textové přízvuky by se měly překrývat, podobně jako dlouhé a krátké slabiky respektují dlouhé a krátké noty (není no totéž!).

Jak nám zobák narost

Při překládání dialogů je dobré představit si jednající osoby, vědět, kdo jsou, jak se chovají, co je pro ně typické. Vizualizaci může doplnit další dobrá pomůcka: přečíst si hotový překlad nahlas. Pokud se čte špatně, nepřirozeně, je někde chyba :)

Dick Francis je autorem řady populárních detektivek. Jeho styl je rychlý, čtivý, sdělný a především velice přirozeně odráží běžnou spisovnou komunikaci v britské společnosti. Předložená ukázka z knihy Hot Money neskrývá prakticky žádné zásadní překladatelské nástrahy. Naším hlavním úkolem tedy bude soustředit se na plynulost dialogu.

Jako obyčejně si nejprve zjistěte pár základních údajů o autorovi, přečtěte si synopsi díla, a pak se pusťte do překládání tučně vyznačeného úryvku.


Dick Francis - Hot Money

Eight

‘Which door did you go out of, with the dogs?’ I asked.

The kitchen door, like I always do.’

‘The kitchen door is about five steps along that covered way from the rear door into the garage.’

‘Yes, of course it is,’ Malcolm said testily.

‘You told me that you set off down the garden with the dogs, and I suppose you told the police the same thing?’

‘Yes, of course I did.’

‘But you can’t really remember actually going. You remember that you meant to, isn’t that what you told me?’

He frowned. ‘I suppose it is.’

‘So what if you never made it to the garden, but were knocked out right there by the kitchen door? And what if you weren’t dragged from there into the garage, but carried?’

His mouth opened. ‘But I’m ...’

‘You’re not too heavy,’ I said. ‘1 could carry you easily in a fireman's lift.’

He was five foot seven, stocky but not fat. He weighed ten stone something, I would have guessed.

‘And the fingerprints?’ Norman West asked.

‘In a fireman’s lift,’ I said, ‘you sling the person you want to carry over your left shoulder, don’t you, with his head hanging down your back. Then you grasp his knees with your left arm, and hold his right wrist in your own right hand, to stop him slipping off?’

They both nodded.

‘So if you’re holding someone’s wrist, you can put his hand easily onto any surface you like, including car door handles... particularly,’ I said, thinking, ‘if you’ve opened the doors yourself first with gloves on, so that your victim’s prints will be on top of any smudges you have made.’ ‘You should have been an assassin,’ Malcolm said. ‘You’d have been good at it.’

‘So now we have Malcolm slumped in the back seat, half lying, like you said. So next you switch on the engine and leave the doors open so that all the nice fumes pour into the car quickly.’

‘Doors?’ Malcolm interrupted.

‘The driver’s door and one of the rear doors, at the least.’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘And then you have,’ I said, ‘a suicide.’

‘And when I woke up,’ Malcolm said gloomily, ‘I put my prints all over the place. On the ignition key ... everywhere.’

‘No one could have counted on that.’

‘It just looked bad to the police.’

We contemplated the scenario.

‘If it happened like that,’ West said, ‘as indeed it could have done, whoever attacked you had to know that you would go out of the kitchen door at around that time.’

Malcolm said bleakly, ‘If I’m at home, I always go for a walk with die dogs about then. Take them out, bring them back, give them their dinners, pour myself a drink. Routine.’

‘And ... er... is there anyone in your family who doesn’t know when you walk the dogs?’

‘Done it all my life, at that time,’ Malcolm said.

There was a short silence, then I said, ’I wish I’d known all this when that car nearly killed us at Newmarket. We really ought to have told the police.’ ’I was fed up with them,’ Malcolm said, ’I’ve spent hours and hours with die suspicious buggers since Moira’s death. I’m allergic to them. They bring me out in a rash.’

‘You can’t blame them, sir. Most murdered wives are killed by their husbands,’ West said. ‘And frankly, you appeared to have an extremely strong motive.’

‘Rubbish,’ Malcolm said. ‘I don’t see how people can kill people they’ve loved.’

‘Unfortunately it’s common.’ West paused. ‘Do you want me to continue with your family, sir, considering how little progress I’ve been able to make with them?’

‘Yes,’ Malcolm said heavily. ‘Carry on. I’ll get Joyce to tell them all to answer your questions. She seems to be able to get them to do what she wants.’

To get them to do what they want, I thought. She couldn’t stir them into courses they didn’t like.

Norman West put his notebook into his jacket pocket and shifted his weight forward on his chair.

‘Before you go,’ I said, ‘1 thought you might like to know that I asked the telephonist of the Cambridge hotel if anyone besides yourself had asked if a Mr Pembroke was staying there last weekend. She said they’d definitely had at least three calls asking for Mr Pembroke, two men and a woman, and she remembered because she thought it odd that no one wanted to talk to him, or would leave a message; they only wanted to know if he was there.’

'Three!’ Malcolm exclaimed.

‘One would be Mr West,’ I pointed out. To West, I said, ‘In view of that, could you tell us who asked you to find my father?’

West hesitated, ’I don't positively know which Mrs Pembroke it was. And… er... even if I became sure during these investigations, well, no sir, I don’t think I could.’

‘Professional ethics,’ Malcolm said, nodding.

‘I did warn you, sir,’ West said to me, ‘about a conflict of interests.’ ‘So you did. Hasn’t she paid you yet, then? No name on any cheque?’

‘No, sir’ not yet.’

Tell me a story...

J.K. Rowling

THE TALE OF THE THREE BROTHERS

There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travellers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.

So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death’s gifts.

In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

1. Find out more about the author and the text.
2. Try to identify possible problems, which may appear when translating.
3. Translate the part marked bold, and put your translation into the comment to this blog. DEADLINE: Wednesday Feb 27!!
4. Read each other's translations, compare, evaluate. Which parts or sentences cause most troubles?

Online Dictionaries:

http://www.urbandictionary.com/

http://www.answers.com/

http://www.wisegeek.com

http://web.volny.cz/najdito/slovnik/

http://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/

http://www.merriam-webster.com/

http://www.slovnik.cz/