lunes, 25 de febrero de 2013

En Relación a Drácula


Transilvania, Transilvania . . . ¿donde escuché este nombre? y ¿Vlad "el empalador"? . . De la novela Drácula algo más para ampliar nuestros conocimientos

Transilvania


Región en la parte central de Rumania. Delimitada al este y al sur por la cadena montañosa de Los Cárpatos. Se la asocia con los vampiros pero también es conocida por la belleza de su paisaje y su rica historia. El imperio Austro-Húngaro comienza a desintegrarse después de la primera guerra mundial. La mayoría rumana eligió a sus representantes y proclamaron su unión al reino de Rumania el primero de diciembre de 1918. La Proclamación de la Unión Alba Lulia fue adoptada por los diputados rumanos de Transilvania y apoyada un mes después por los votos de los diputados de Sajonia. En 1920 los aliados confirmaron la unión en el Tratado de Trianon. Hungría protestó la decisión ya que más de 1.600.000 húngaros vivían en la zona principalmente en la parte este de Transilvania y en el límite creado recientemente. En Agosto de 1940, en medio de la segunda guerra mundial, Hungría recuperó cerca del 40 por ciento de Transilvania por el Tratado de Viena, con la ayuda de Alemania e Italia. Sin embargo el territorio volvió a Rumania en 1945. Esta región tiene una población de 7.221.733 con una gran mayoría rumana (75,9 %). También existen comunidades húngaras (19,6 %), alemanas (0,7 %) y serbias (0,1 %). La población húngara forma una mayoría en Covasna y Harghita.

La palabra que faltaba: Drácula


Esa palabra nueva, difícil de recordar y de poco uso, puede ser memorizada más fácilmente haciendo oraciones, buscando ejemplos de su uso en diferente oraciones o usando sinónimos para relacionarlas.

Carafe   havoc   jagged   lofty   quiver   wince    ruddiness

. . . for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, and was still thirsty.
Carafe: bottle, decanter.

Fifty years ago a series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five separate occasions.
This latest decision will cause havoc in the tourist industry
Havoc: mayhem, disturbance.

sábado, 23 de febrero de 2013

Fear

De como observa el paisaje del lugar. De la velocidad con que viajan y de los malos caminos. De como observa a la gente del lugar


" . . . I shall never forget the last glimpse which I had of the inn yard and its crowd of picturesque figures, all crossing themselves, as they stood round the wide archway, with its background of rich foliage of oleander and orange trees in green tubs clustered in the centre of the yard.

Then our driver, whose wide linen drawers covered the whole front of the boxseat,--"gotza" they call them--cracked his big whip over his four small horses, which ran abreast, and we set off on our journey.

I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or rather languages, which my fellow-passengers were speaking, I might not have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit blossom--apple, plum, pear, cherry. And as we drove by I could see the green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out amongst these green hills of what they call here the "Mittel Land" ran the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down the hillsides like tongues of flame. 

miércoles, 20 de febrero de 2013

La Palabra que Faltaba: Drácula II



I had to drink up all the water in my carafe. 
- Carafe: botella. 

I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour.
– porridge: avena, papilla.

. . . egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish. 
– forcemeat: relleno de carne picada.

All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of beauty of every kind.
– dawdle: andar muy despacio, demorarse.

Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the top of steep hills such as we see in old missals.
– missals: misal.

The women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very clumsy about the waist.
– clumsy: torpe, desgarbado.

. . . most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course there were petticoats under them. 
– fluttering: ondulando.
– petticoat: enaguas, combinación.

 They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them.
– tuck: meter, esconder.

They are very picturesque, but do not look prepossessing. 
– prepossessing: agradable, atractivo.

On the stage they would be set down at once as some old Oriental band of brigands.
– brigand: ladrón.

They are, however, I am told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.
- self-assertion: asertividad??
Asertividad: en el diccionario de la lengua española esta palabra no existe. Sin embargo en otro diccionario se la define como la capacidad de expresar nuestras ideas.

Bibliografía:
http://www.definicion.org/asertividad
http://lema.rae.es/drae/?val=Asertividad
http://thefreedictionary
http://translategoogle.com

Inglés con los clásicos. Gral Guemes 561, local 9. Tel. 0387-4249159/155723965. 4400 Salta. Argentina



viernes, 1 de febrero de 2013

Sketching Mark Twain´s biography

Mark Twain wrote numerous books, made speeches and established a local-color literature describing his time and region like nobody else…

When he was four, Twain's family moved to Hannibal, Missouri, a port town on the Mississippi River that inspired the fictional town of St. Petersburg in “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” and “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”. Missouri was a slave state and young Twain became familiar with the institution of slavery, a theme he would later explore in his writing.
Twain headed west. Twain and his brother traveled more than two weeks on a stagecoach across the Great Plains and the Rocky Mountains, visiting the Mormon community in Salt Lake City. The experiences inspired “Roughing It” and provided material for “The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County”. Twain's journey ended in the silver-mining town of Virginia City, Nevada, where he became a miner. Twain failed as a miner and worked at a Virginia City newspaper, the Territorial Enterprise. Here he first used his pen name.
His first success as a writer came when his humorous tall tale, "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," was published in a New York weekly, The Saturday Press, on November 18, 1865.

miércoles, 30 de enero de 2013

El Príncipe y el Mendigo, resumen

El Príncipe y El Mendigo (The Prince and the Pauper), de Mark Twain, es una hermosa historia de confusión, aventuras y crítica social (la desigualdad de las personas).

El argumento abarca la ascensión al trono de Edward VI (que muere a los 15 años) de Inglaterra, en 1.547, y su relación con su doble, Tom Canty, un niño indigente de Londres que vive con un padre abusivo y alcohólico.

Más abajo encontramos loitering y pauper y ampliamos un poco el conocimiento sobre este rey, Edward VI.

lunes, 28 de enero de 2013

Prince and Pauper V



" . . . Tom got up hungry, and sauntered hungry away, but with his thoughts busy with the shadowy splendours of his night's dreams. He wandered here and there in the city, hardly noticing where he was going, or what was happening around him.  People jostled him, and some gave him rough speech; but it was all lost on the musing boy.  By-and-by he found himself at Temple Bar . . . and passed on outside the walls of London.  The Strand had ceased to be a country-road then, and regarded itself as a street, but by a strained construction; for, though there was a tolerably compact row of houses on one side of it, there were only some scattered great buildings on the other, these being palaces of rich nobles, with ample and beautiful grounds stretching to the river—grounds that are now closely packed with grim acres of brick and stone.

Tom discovered Charing Village presently, and rested himself at the beautiful cross built there by a bereaved king of earlier days; then idled down a quiet, lovely road, past the great cardinal's stately palace, toward a far more mighty and majestic palace beyond—Westminster. . . . Was the desire of his soul to be satisfied at last?  Here, indeed, was a king's palace.  Might he not hope to see a prince now—a prince of flesh and blood, if Heaven were willing?

At each side of the gilded gate stood a living statue—that is to say, an erect and stately and motionless man-at-arms, clad from head to heel in shining steel armour.  At a respectful distance were many country folk, and people from the city, waiting for any chance glimpse of royalty that might offer.  Splendid carriages, with splendid people in them and splendid servants outside, were arriving and departing by several other noble gateways that pierced the royal enclosure.

Poor little Tom, in his rags, approached, and was moving slowly and timidly past the sentinels, with a beating heart and a rising hope, when all at once he caught sight through the golden bars of a spectacle that almost made him shout for joy.  Within was a comely boy, tanned and brown with sturdy outdoor sports and exercises, whose clothing was all of lovely silks and satins, shining with jewels; at his hip a little jewelled sword and dagger; dainty buskins on his feet, with red heels; and on his head a jaunty crimson cap, with drooping plumes fastened with a great sparkling gem.  Several gorgeous gentlemen stood near—his servants, without a doubt.  Oh! he was a prince—a prince, a living prince, a real prince—without the shadow of a question; and the prayer of the pauper-boy's heart was answered at last.

Tom's breath came quick and short with excitement, and his eyes grew big with wonder and delight.  Everything gave way in his mind instantly to one desire:  that was to get close to the prince, and have a good, devouring look at him.  Before he knew what he was about, he had his face against the gate-bars.  The next instant one of the soldiers snatched him rudely away, and sent him spinning among the gaping crowd of country gawks and London idlers.  The soldier said,—

"Mind thy manners, thou young beggar!"
The crowd jeered and laughed; but the young prince sprang to the gate with his face flushed, and his eyes flashing with indignation, and cried out,—

"How dar'st thou use a poor lad like that?  How dar'st thou use the King my father's meanest subject so?  Open the gates, and let him in!" . . . (chapter 3, The Prince and the Pauper)

Tom, hungry and despaired, walked the streets of London until he came to Temple Bar, the Strand and Charing Village. . .

From the context these are rich areas in London.

Is there anyone out there, somewhere in the galaxy, who can tell about these places? What are they like?

From Wikipedia: Temple Bar is the point in London where Fleet Street, City of London, becomes the Strand, Westminster, and where the City of London traditionally erected a barrier to regulate trade into the city. About Charing Village there is some information but it is not clear to me.

Más en http://facebook.com/jorge.h.banegas
¿Inglés con los clásicos? También exámenes y traducciones. Estamos en Gral Guemes 561, local 9. Teléfonos (0387) 4249159-155723965. Salta (4400). Argentina.

domingo, 27 de enero de 2013

Prince and Pauper IV


“ . . . Privately, after a while, Tom organised a royal court!  He was the prince; his special comrades were guards, chamberlains, equerries, lords and ladies in waiting, and the royal family.  Daily the mock prince was received with elaborate ceremonials borrowed by Tom from his romantic readings; daily the great affairs of the mimic kingdom were discussed in the royal council, and daily his mimic highness issued decrees to his imaginary armies, navies, and viceroyalties.

After which, he would go forth in his rags and beg a few farthings, eat his poor crust, take his customary cuffs and abuse, and then stretch himself upon his handful of foul straw, and resume his empty grandeurs in his dreams.

And still his desire to look just once upon a real prince, in the flesh, grew upon him, day by day, and week by week, until at last it absorbed all other desires, and became the one passion of his life.

One January day, on his usual begging tour, he tramped despondently up and down the region round about Mincing Lane and Little East Cheap, hour after hour, bare-footed and cold, looking in at cook-shop windows and longing for the dreadful pork-pies and other deadly inventions displayed there—for to him these were dainties fit for the angels; that is, judging by the smell, they were—for it had never been his good luck to own and eat one. There was a cold drizzle of rain; the atmosphere was murky; it was a melancholy day.  At night Tom reached home so wet and tired and hungry that it was not possible for his father and grandmother to observe his forlorn condition and not be moved—after their fashion; wherefore they gave him a brisk cuffing at once and sent him to bed.  For a long time his pain and hunger, and the swearing and fighting going on in the building, kept him awake; but at last his thoughts drifted away to far, romantic lands, and he fell asleep in the company of jewelled and gilded princelings who live in vast palaces, and had servants salaaming before them or flying to execute their orders.  And then, as usual, he dreamed that he was a princeling himself.

All night long the glories of his royal estate shone upon him; he moved among great lords and ladies, in a blaze of light, breathing perfumes, drinking in delicious music, and answering the reverent obeisances of the glittering throng as it parted to make way for him, with here a smile, and there a nod of his princely head.
And when he awoke in the morning and looked upon the wretchedness about him, his dream had had its usual effect—it had intensified the sordidness of his surroundings a thousandfold.  Then came bitterness, and heart-break, and tears. . . .”

Did these places exist or do they still exist? Mincing Lane and Little East Cheap.

Apparently Mincing Lane and Little East Cheap were commercial areas in London where Tom Canty wandered and wished the dishes and offers the stores displayed to the passers-by on their windows.

Does anyone want to comment about these places? . . .

Más en facebook.com/jorge.h.banegas
¿Inglés con los clásicos? Estamos en Gral Guemes 561, local 9. Teléfonos (0387) 4249159-155723965. 4400 Salta. Argentina

lunes, 21 de enero de 2013

Príncipe y Mendigo

¡Qué buena idea para un libro! Escribir sobre un niño rico y uno pobre. Mientras el hijo del rey vivía entre sedas el hijo de mendigos debía, en más de una ocasión, acostarse con el estómago vacío.

En vocabulario encontramos enjoin y pusimos unos párrafos de esta novela traducidos a nuestro idioma.

De la pluma de Mark Twain, El Príncipe y El Mendigo…

 

Edward H. House, el dramaturgo inválido, ha ganado su juicio contra Mark Twain. El juez Daly ayer prohibió la dramatización de la novela, que recientemente fue vista en los escenarios de Broadway…

jueves, 17 de enero de 2013

The Sister

La hermana de Roderick sufre una enfermedad que la llevará a su tumba y lo dejará como el último de su clan. Del clásico de Edgar A. Poe, La caída de la casa de los Usher
"He admitted, however, although with hesitation, that much of the peculiar gloom which thus afflicted him could be traced to a more natural and far more palpable origin—to the severe and long-continued illness—indeed to the evidently approaching dissolution—of a tenderly beloved sister, his sole companion for long years, his last and only relative on earth. “Her decease,” he said, with a bitterness which I can never forget, “would leave him (him the hopeless and the frail) the last of the ancient race of the Ushers.” While he spoke, the lady Madeline (for so was she called) passed slowly through a remote portion of the apartment, and, without having noticed my presence, disappeared. I regarded her with an utter astonishment not unmingled with dread; and yet I found it impossible to account for such feelings. A sensation of stupor oppressed me as my eyes followed her retreating steps. When a door, at length, closed upon her, my glance sought instinctively and eagerly the countenance of the brother; but he had buried his face in his hands, and I could only perceive that a far more than ordinary wanness had overspread the emaciated fingers through which trickled many passionate tears. . .
For several days ensuing, her name was unmentioned by either Usher or myself; and during this period I was busied in earnest endeavors to alleviate the melancholy of my friend. We painted and read together, or I listened, as if in a dream, to the wild improvisations of his speaking guitar. And thus, as a closer and still closer intimacy admitted me more unreservedly into the recesses of his spirit, the more bitterly did I perceive the futility of all attempt at cheering a mind from which darkness, as if an inherent positive quality, poured forth upon all objects of the moral and physical universe in one unceasing radiation of gloom. . .
I could not help thinking of the wild ritual of this work, and of its probable influence upon the hypochondriac, when, one evening, having informed me abruptly that the lady Madeline was no more, he stated his intention of preserving her corpse for a fortnight (previously to its final interment), in one of the numerous vaults within the main walls of the building. The worldly reason, however, assigned for this singular proceeding, was one which I did not feel at liberty to dispute. The brother had been led to his resolution (so he told me) by consideration of the unusual character of the malady of the deceased, of certain obtrusive and eager inquiries on the part of her medical men, and of the remote and exposed situation of the burial-ground of the family. I will not deny that when I called to mind the sinister countenance of the person whom I met upon the staircase, on the day of my arrival at the house, I had no desire to oppose what I regarded as at best but a harmless, and by no means an unnatural, precaution.
At the request of Usher, I personally aided him in the arrangements for the temporary entombment. The body having been encoffined, we two alone bore it to its rest. The vault in which we placed it (and which had been so long unopened that our torches, half smothered in its oppressive atmosphere, gave us little opportunity for investigation) was small, damp, and entirely without means of admission for light; lying, at great depth, immediately beneath that portion of the building in which was my own sleeping apartment. It had been used, apparently, in remote feudal times, for the worst purposes of a donjon-keep, and, in later days, as a place of deposit for powder, or some other highly combustible substance, as a portion of its floor, and the whole interior of a long archway through which we reached it, were carefully sheathed with copper. The door, of massive iron, had been, also, similarly protected. Its immense weight caused an unusually sharp, grating sound, as it moved upon its hinges. . . " (Párrafos del clásico de Edgar A. Poe, La caída de la casa de los Usher)

Vocabulario
Wanness: paleness
Donjon: the main tower within the walls of a medieval castle
Sheathed: encased
El libro
La caída de la casa de los Usher muestra la habilidad del autor de crear un tono emocional en su trabajo: miedo, destino y culpa. Estas emociones se centran en Roderick Usher quien sufre una enfermedad. Esta enfermedad inflama sus sentidos. Se manifiesta físicamente pero está basada en su estado mental. Está enfermo porque él espera estar enfermo basado en el historial de enfermedades de su familia, por lo que es esencialmente un hipocondríaco.


Si te gustó este artículo compartílo con tus amigos