Tag: Opinion

  • My 5 Favourite Potter en Français Translations – PART 4

    My 5 Favourite Potter en Français Translations – PART 4

    As you probably know by now, I recently read the Potter books one through seven for the first time in years and it’s been a ride — even more so than normal because this time I’ve done it in French. I’ve loved sharing my favourite translations on Fictitiously Hilary and I’m sad to say that this is the last blog I’ll be adding to the collection. Catch up with the others by clicking here:

    Part One     Part Two     Part Three

    Here are my final favourite French Harry Potter translations, taken from across the seven books.

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    Le Quidditch

    The title of everyone’s favourite wizarding sport remains the same in French, but the same can’t be said for the rest of the game’s elements. The players’ roles are directly translated as chasers become “poursuiveurs,” beaters become “batteurs” and the seeker becomes “l’attrapeur.” I can’t for the life of me figure out the logic behind the Quaffle translation, which becomes “Souafle” – I guess both words are kind of onomatopoeic in their respective languages? Bludgers become “Cognards,” which comes from the French verb cogner, meaning to bang, knock or strike — figures. The Golden Snitch, rather magically, becomes “le Vif d’or” – or meaning gold, while vif is an adjective that can mean anything from vivacious, keen, sharp, quick, strong or bright – I’d say the Snitch is all those things…

    Transplanage & Désartibulement 

    Apparating and splinching become more relevant in the final two Potter books and I was interested to see how they’d be translated. Translator Jean-François Ménard goes for are “transplanage” (noun) and “transplaner” (verb) for apparating, and “désartibulement” for splinching. Transplanage presumably makes sense in terms of the word “transplant” but I really can’t put my finger on the translation of splinching. It obviously doesn’t mean too much in English, which doesn’t help me understand the translation. It’s really bugging me, so any French readers, please let me know if/why it makes sense!

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    “Un hibou huhula…”

    In part two, I talked about how much fun I think it is to discover onomatopoeias in other languages, and in Deathly Hallows (or les reliques de la mort in French) I found another corker. As Harry and Hermione are recovering in the Forest of Dean, Harry hears an owl, except in French, it’s “un hibou hulula.” “Hululer,” I then confirmed is the French for to hoot, but since you pronounce it “hoo-hoo-ler” (but with the almost non-existent French ‘h’) you literally have to make the “hoo-hoo” sound owls make. Magic! Much better than our old “twit-twoo!”

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    Sang-de-Bourbe & Moldus

    Onto a slightly more unpleasant translation now, one that became more and more present in the final books — Mudblood. In French, this derogatory slang for a Muggle-born wizard becomes “Sang-de-Bourbe” — which reads more as “Sludgeblood,” but it certainly does the job. Come to think of it, I never talked about the translation of Muggles, I think it’s slightly nastier in French, it’s “Moldus.” My English mind immediately goes to mouldy, but in French “molle” means soft, weak or floppy, so it’s nicer than it sounds, just.

    Le plus grand bien 

    The deep philosophical “greater good” issues in Harry Potter have always been ruined for me because I immediately think of Hot Fuzz, but I was interested to see how it would be translated. Turns out, very, very literally! I thought French grammar might overcomplicate it, but it is simply translated to “le plus grand bien” —  word-for-word that’s “the more big good” – that’ll do it!

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    Thank you so much for reading these blogs! They’re not exactly examples of hard-hitting journalism but they’ve been so much fun to write. And that’s on top of the fact that reading the books in French has been incredibly rewarding and a great way to keep my French up since graduation. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them as much as I’ve loved writing them.

    Merci beaucoup, onto the next French/magic/literary adventure! 

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  • My Favourite Potter en Français Translations PART 3

    My Favourite Potter en Français Translations PART 3

    Coucou! I’m back with another round of Potter translations. Regardless of whether anyone reads them (which some people actually do!) I love writing these blogs so don’t expect them to relent just yet. I’ve now read Order of the Phoenix (ordre du phoenix) and Half-Blood Prince (prince du sang-mêlé), and I am holding off on Deathly Hallows because I DON’T WANT IT TO END. Where I’m at with the series now means that many of the characters and ideas have already been introduced, so the translations featured today are less likely to be exclusive to books five and six.

    Delores, Doloris, Endoloris

    Back when I was reading Goblet of Fire and Mad Eye Moody (Maugrey Fol Œil) introduced the unforgivable curses (les sortilèges Impardonnables) I was struck by the translation of one in particular because I thought it might clash with an upcoming character’s name. “Le sortilège Doloris” is the name given to the cruciatus curse. It makes sense because “douleur” is the French for pain and suffering. Just as the cruciatus curse becomes “crucio” when used, the doloris spell is cast with “endoloris”. When Delores Jane Umbridge arrived in Order of the Phoenix, I wondered whether there was going to be a nod to the similar words or a change to her name. It turns out the name Delores means sorrow anyway, but in the French books Umbridge’s name literally becomes Cruciatus Umbridge. What’s more, her surname is changed. Umbridge is changed to Ombrage, which can translate to anything from “shady” to “offence,” “resentment” to “make s.o feel small.” Delores Umbridge becomes Delores Ombrage, or Cruciatus Shady Belittler, an extra excruciating name for an especially despicable character – I love it!

    BUSE & ASPIC

    I’ve reached the point in the books where academia is becoming more important because of the arrival of wizard GCSEs and A Levels, known in the books as O.W.Ls (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) and N.E.W.Ts (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests). Like with S.P.E.W in my last blog, the translations into French needs to make some kind of sense in terms of being about difficult exams, but they also need to spell out the names of animals frequently mentioned in the wizarding world. The Jean-François Ménard translations call them B.U.S.E and A.S.P.I.C. B.U.S.E stands for Brevet Universel de Sorcellerie Élémentaire (a good magical twist on a French GCSE) but the word “buse” itself is a buzzard or a hawk. Parfait! A.S.P.I.C. stands for Accumulation de Sorcellerie Particulièrement Intensive et Contraignante which is a bit far fetched if you ask me, I’m not sure about the word “accumulation,” BUT it works because “aspic” is a type of viper. Magic!

    L’élu

    Now despite the massive waste that is Dumbledore’s Army’s trip to the Department of Mysteries, we still learn from Dumbledore just bloody well telling Harry the prophecy afterwards (I’m not bitter about it at all), that Harry is in fact The Chosen One. When I started reading Half-Blood Prince in French I kept seeing these four little letter gathering near Harry’s name and I didn’t clock what it meant until I stopped reading and thought, “l’élu? The eleceted? Oooooooh!” It’s such a simple translation that uses the verb “to elect” in a way I’ve never seen outside of politics but it makes more sense than any way I can imagine directly translating “the chosen one”.

    Je suis Voldemort 

    I can’t believe I forgot to mention this when I wrote about Chamber of Secrets because it is just so bizarre. We all know the moment, in the film and book, when creepy teenage Voldemort reveals that his given name was Tom Riddle. He does this by creating an anagram out of his full name “Tom Marvalo Riddle” to spell “I am Lord Voldemort”. Riddle can’t drop an English “I am” into his speech in the French books, so his name had to be altered to find room for a “je suis.” His surname Riddle is also a hint at the fact his name is a riddle in itself so that’s something worth trying to convey in French too.

    And oh my god, how Ménard does it still makes me cry with laughter every time it comes up. I can’t help but wonder whether Rowling had to sign off on it… Imagine you’re reading what is a really intense scene when suddenly Voldemort drops the bombshell that his middle name is ELVIS. His surname becomes Jedusor, which I think is a play on the French phrase for “pun” – “jeu de mots” (game of words), where “words” is replaced with “sort” meaning “spell” – so jedusor might mean “game of spells” – a pun in itself – I could be wrong there though. But anyway, back to the fact HIS MIDDLE NAME IS ELVIS. It does work as an anagram – “Tom Elvis Jedusor” spells out “je suis Voldemort” – but for me the tension was all gone because I was too busy laughing at the fact the Dark Lord’s middle name is Elvis.

    You-Know-Who

    In the same vein of thought, there is another aspect to Voldemort’s name that I’ve failed to mention. If you’ve ever studied French, one of the first things you’re taught is that there are two ways to say “you”. There’s the familiar “tu,” for friends, family, younger people and such, and there’s the more formal “vous” for elders, your superiors etc or a plural group. Remarkably, or perhaps unremarkably, this rule still applies when it comes to saying “You-Know-Who” in French. For example, when Harry first learns about Voldemort from Hagrid, Hagrid says “Tu-Sais-Qui” but when Harry replies he says “Vous-Savez-Qui” – demonstrating the linguistic power balance between Hagrid and Harry, adult and child. The more complicated “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named” becomes the mouthful “Celui-Dont-On-Ne-Doit-Pas-Prononcer-Le-Nom” (the one whom we must not say the name of).

    As we’ve established by now, I find these translations fascinating and I hope you do too! If you’ve enjoyed part three be sure to check out parts one and two, and please share them with any Francophiles or Potterphiles you think might be interested. 

    In other news, you might have noticed that a little badge has appeared on the site – Feedspot have ranked Fictitiously Hilary 36 in its Top 50 Freelance Writing Blogs. Thank you all for reading, sharing and making exciting things like this possible, big love! 

  • A Period of Change #Periodically 21

    A Period of Change #Periodically 21

    Right first of all, some truths, disclaimers, apologies etc. Since I started the pill, and I don’t know if it’s because of the pill or whether it’s just a coincidence, but I have really struggled to start new writing projects. Ongoing projects have been fine, but creatively, coming up with new ideas and starting new sentences has been a challenge. So while it’s been a hot minute (5 weeks) since I started the pill, I’m only now writing about it for the first time.

    It has been a total ride, hell, it still is. From temper tantrums to bowel-crises, emergency gynaecology appointments to jaw aches – the last five weeks have had it all. For today though, I’m just going to focus on the first pill pack and how that was. As many will know, when you go on or off a hormonal contraceptive, or any hormonal treatment, things can get weird for your mind and body. I knew it was coming, but unfortunately that didn’t make it any easier. Knowing it was going to be a period of change for potentially unpleasant reasons, I decided to add some *nicer* changes too, so I bought a new menstrual cup from Me Luna (which I love and will talk about in more disgusting detail another time) and readied my period pants sent to me by Thinx.

    The first pill pack

    When you start a combined contraceptive pill it’s recommended that you take the first pill on the first day of your period. This immediately means your cycle will be shorter that ‘month’ because your withdrawal bleed from the pill will come in three weeks from your last period, not four. I did as followed, of course, and was immediately confused. Despite all the signals my body had been giving me that I was about to have a particularly bad period, nothing really happened. My period had started but not really. At this point I thought two things: 1) woah does it really work so fast – this is kind of great! and 2) but what if the lining of my womb that had built up to shed now never sheds – where’s it going to go?! So as you can see, I was thinking really clearly.

    Going into it I was determined to have an open mind and not to be paranoid about every tiny little symptom I experienced – yeah, surprise to no one, that lasted about 23 hours when I got a migrainesque headache, the first I’ve had since, well, what do you know, the last time I was on the combined pill! “Keep an open mind, keep an open mind,” I said through gritted teeth as I took the second pill. In the morning, on day three, I was actually relieved to discover that my period had properly started. I was in pain, felt a little nauseous, but I always feel slightly relieved when that happens (for like five minutes, don’t get me wrong) – it’s the fifth vital sign and all that.

    And then Tuesday came. I remember that it was a Tuesday very vividly because every week that’s passed since I’ve noted, “it’s been X weeks since that Tuesday. I survived – I can survive anything.” Fuck me – this is why I haven’t written this blog yet because I am trying really hard to block that day from my mind, but in the name of documentation I will relive the experience. In fact this is the furthest I’ve got writing this story so far (deep breaths). It was, to be frank, the most pain I have ever been in in my life. I was expecting things to get worse before they got better, but I also didn’t know that there was so much more pain yet to be achieved by my period. I was woken up by a regular period pain that just continued to get worse and worse and worse throughout the morning. Painkillers did nothing, moving did nothing, lying still did nothing, hot water bottles did a little but I’m fairly sure I burnt the skin on my belly from using them too much. It eased off at lunch and then returned in the afternoon. Honestly, I feel pretty traumatised by it, even now. I was at a point where I was googling “is it totally ridiculous to go to A&E for period cramps?” and I might’ve even convinced someone to drive me there if I hadn’t been home alone. There was vomit and tears, Bridget Jones and chocolate (usually pre-menstrual treats, not menstrual coping distractions). At the end of that fateful Tuesday I remember feeling as though my body had gone into shock. In hindsight now I’m like, “alright drama queen *eyeroll*” but I am also aware that it was really fucking scary and that I never ever ever want it to happen again to me nor anyone else.

     

    Needless to say, this wasn’t an excellent introduction to life back on the pill. I tried, am trying, really hard not to blame the pill but there’s only so much I can do to stop my brain making the connection between horrible, horrible pain and a drug designed to mess with the affected organs. Like I said, now I’d survived that, I could survive anything. Or so I thought until I realised that THIS PERIOD WAS NEVER GOING TO END. Twenty-two days. I bled, for twenty-two days straight. I know they say to expect “unusual bleeding” when you start the pill but come the fuck on. I decided it probably wasn’t too healthy to wear a menstrual cup for three weeks straight and while I tried my Thinx pants (jury’s still out) I only had one pair, and so I had the delight of wearing sanitary pads for three fucking weeks. Sorry for the profanity but TWENTY-FUCKING-TWO DAYS.

    I was also consistently plagued by a few charming new symptoms during this time. One change that I was not particularly excited about was a change in my breasts, which happened quickly and painfully – I’m talking stretch marks on my tits after just five days. Thankfully they seem to have resettled and calmed down now (hopefully!) The other symptoms have namely been: headaches, migraines, an unexpected jaw ache presumably caused by my habit of stress jaw-grinding, growing pains in my legs (please don’t say I’m still getting taller), the mood swings of a 14 year-old, a generally gloomy demeanour and unexpected creative block. The last three have irritated me the most. Not being able to write, whether caused by the pill or not, has just been incredibly frustrating. The way I would describe it is that it feels like someone is sitting on my head and that I can’t look up to see what’s going on. I’m hoping – by the fact that I’ve finally written this blog, that the person on my head has buggered off, but I will be honest and say that I am not feel overwhelmingly positive about the pill so far.

    Back to the twenty-two day period, if you’re good at period maths, it means that I didn’t actually come off my period until I had finished the first pack of the pill. So again, it was hard not to let my brain process the obvious fact that pill = extension of the world’s worst and longest period. True to form I came on my next bleed two days later but that, and the story of the emergency gynae trip, is a story for another blog.

    Enjoy #Periodically? Read the last update here, or check out my review of Natural Cycles here.