Translating Shakespeare for the Twenty-first Century

Első borító
Rui Manuel G. de Carvalho Homem, Ton Hoenselaars, A. J. Hoenselaars
Rodopi, 2004 - 269 oldal
Most of the contributions to Translating Shakespeare for the Twenty-First Century evolve from a practical commitment to the translation of Shakespearean drama and at the same time reveal a sophisticated awareness of recent developments in literary criticism, Shakespeare studies, and the relatively new field of Translation studies. All the essays are sensitive to the criticism to which notions of the original as well as distinctions between the creative and the derivative have been subjected in recent years. Consequently, they endeavour to retrieve translation from its otherwise subordinate status, and advance it as a model for all writing, which is construed, inevitably, as a rewriting. This volume offers a wide range of responses to the theme of Shakespeare and translation as well as Shakespeare in translation. Diversity is ensured both by the authors' varied academic and cultural backgrounds, and by the different critical standpoints from which they approach their themes - from semiotics to theatre studies, and from gender studies to readings firmly rooted in the practice of translation. Translating Shakespeare for the Twenty-First Century is divided into two complementary sections. The first part deals with the broader insights to be gained from a multilingual and multicultural framework. The second part focuses on Shakespearean translation into the specific language and the culture of Portugal.

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Tartalomjegyzék

The Translatability of Shakespearean Texts
51
Translation at the Crossroads of the Past and Present
65
The Knocking of Fate
117
Translating Shakespeare
163
The Translation of Proper Names in Measure for Measure
203
Ariel and the Portuguese Audience
217
Index
261
Copyright

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182. oldal - Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never : Then sigh not so, but let them go, And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe Into Hey nonny, nonny.
33. oldal - Look up, my lord. Kent. Vex not his ghost : O, let him pass ! he hates him That would upon the rack of this rough • world Stretch him out longer.
42. oldal - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in 't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
172. oldal - Like to a tenement, or pelting farm : England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds ; That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hath made a shameful conquest of itself...
38. oldal - tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly : If the assassination Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, With his surcease, success ; that but this blow Might be the be-all and the end-all here, But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, — We'd jump the life to come.
34. oldal - And my poor fool is hang'd ! No, no, no life : Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all ? Thou'lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never ! — Pray you, undo this button : thank you, sir. — Do you see this ? Look on her, — look, — her lips, — Look there, look there ! — [He dies.
171. oldal - This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England...
40. oldal - All causes shall give way ; I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er : Strange things I have in head, that will to hand ; Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd.
171. oldal - This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, For Christian service and true chivalry, As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son : This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world...
121. oldal - At supper? Where? HAMLET Not where he eats, but where a is eaten. A certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.

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