Gramática

Temas concretos de Gramática: verbos frasales, modales, voz pasiva, etc...

Léxico

Campos léxicos, sinónimos, antónimos, homónimos, falsos amigos, lenguaje tabú y un largo etcétera

Historias y humor

Pequeño cajón desastre para mis historias, anécdotas en mis clases, recuerdos...

Mis libros

Aquí podéis ver un pequeño resumen de mis libros más importantes

Charlas y conferencias

Las más significativas a lo largo de mi vida académica. Y las próximas

Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta traducción. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta traducción. Mostrar todas las entradas

6/2/15

Papel de la traducción en la enseñanza de idiomas modernos.

Papel de la traducción en la enseñanza de las lenguas modernas.


   En los últimos tiempos, se tiende a ver la traducción con recelo por parte de la mayoría de los profesores de idiomas que preconizan precisamente su evitación a la hora de comunicar en la L2 y sólo la aceptan en algunos casos en la enseñanza de idiomas con fines específicos. Estoy de acuerdo en que es totalmente desaconsejable traducir los mensajes de la L2 a la L1 o lengua materna para poder entenderlos o antes de expresarse, pero soy partidario de la traducción como técnica de refuerzo, independiente de las cuatro destrezas, pero complementaria a las mismas, a realizar en el aula y fuera de ella, especialmente en niveles avanzados.
Widdowson hace un estudio detallado del proceso de traducción (BRUMFIT y JOHNSON, 1979), señalando que la razón por la que se suele rechazar la traducción en la enseñanza de una segunda lengua o lengua extranjera radica en que la mayoría de las veces no se establece una relación correcta entre las equivalencias estructurales, gramaticales y comunicativas entre la lengua objeto de estudio y la lengua materna. Evidentemente, debe evitarse que la traducción lleve al alumno a suponer que existe siempre una directa correspondencia recíproca de significado entre la L2 y la L1 y que el alumno a la hora de traducir centre su atención en las propiedades formales de las oraciones de la L2, descuidando el significado contextual, que va en función de la relación existente entre oraciones y situaciones apropiadas. Pero, en nuestra opinión, la traducción, usada como ejercicio complementario, lo que yo llamo Traducción Pedagógica, en la línea de las crosslingual strategies, preconizadas por Hosenfeld y Stern (STERN, 1992, pp. 293-297), puede resultar una tarea motivadora, que obliga a los alumnos a usar todos los recursos del idioma y consolida su habilidad para comunicarse por escrito u oralmente con mayor corrección.
Doy a continuación una bibliografía básica sobre la traducción, que puede ser de utilidad a estudiantes universitarios que quieran profundizar en el tema: 

Bibliografía básica



BAKER, MONA (1992) In Other Words. A Coursebook on translation. Londres: Routledge (manual teórico-práctico para los estudios de traducción; ejemplos auténticos).
BELL, R.T. (1991) Translation and Translating: Theory and Practice. Londres: Longman (interesantes sobre todo: cap. 3, análisis semántico componencial; cap. 4, cohesión textual; cap. 5, parámetros de discurso: tenor, mode y domain, como vía para el estudio de textos hablados y escritos y cap. 16, principio de cooperación de Grice y su importancia para los procesos de traducción).
BRUMFIT, C.J. y JOHNSON, D. (eds.) (1979) The Communicative Approach to Language Teaching. Oxford: Oxford University Press (clave para el ‘enfoque comunicativo’. Incluye un estudio detallado del proceso de traducción)
DUFF, A. (1989) Translation. Oxford: Oxford University Press (interesantes sugerencias de actividades de traducción de la L2 a la L1 de textos cortos a realizar en clase por los alumnos trabajando en parejas o en grupo, en lugar de las tradicionales traducciones individuales de textos excesivamente largos; las actividades propuestas son muy variadas e incluyen reiteración, sinonimia, definiciones, distinciones, etc.).
GARCÍA YEBRA, VALENTÍN (1982) Teoría y práctica de la traducción (2 vols.). Madrid: Gredos (interesantes contrastes gramaticales: cap. 15, sobre el número gramatical en español, inglés y otras lenguas; cap. 18, uso del adjetivo; cap. 19, sobre discrepancias en los tiempos verbales y cap. 21, auxiliares ingleses y perífrasis en español).
HATIM, B. y MASON, I. (1990) Discourse and the Translator, Londres: Longman. (consideran al traductor como “mediador” entre textos, que debe esforzarse en mantener el carácter lingüístico-pragmático del texto de origen aplicando tanto sus conocimientos lingüísticos como culturales agrupados en tres principios: comunicativos, pragmáticos y semióticos).
JAKOBSON, ROMAN (1959) “On linguistic aspects of translation”, en BROWER, R.A. (ed.) On Translation, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press (proclama la imposibilidad de traducir fielmente o “el fin de la transparencia o equivalencia”, lo que libera al texto traducido de su relación con el texto original, convirtiéndolo en un texto autónomo, compuesto de connotaciones, alusiones y discursos específicos de la cultura y lengua a la que ha sido vertido).
MOUNIN, GEORGE (1963) Les problèmes théoriques de la traduction (versión española de Julio Lago Alonso, Madrid, Gredos, 1963). Paris: Gallimard (Mounin considera la Traducción como parte de la Lingüística; interesante sobre todo la 4ª parte del libro: visiones del mundo y traducción).
NEWMARK, PETER (1988) A Textbook of Translation. Hemel Hempstead: Prentice Hall (obra de carácter ecléctico donde propone cuatro niveles en el proceso traductor: el textual, el referencial, el de cohesión y el de espontaneidad).
NEWMARK, PETER (1991) About Translation. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters (presenta su visión “comunicativa” de la traducción, centrada en el análisis pragmático del discurso, que opone a la traducción semántica tradicional).
NIDA, EUGENE A. (1976) “A Framework for the Analysis and Evaluation of Theories of Translation”, en BRISLIN, R.W. (ed.) Translation: Applications and Research, Nueva York: Gardner Press, 47-91 (análisis resumido del estado de la teoría de la traducción hasta la fecha, que sigue siendo válido actualmente).
NIDA, EUGENE A. y REYBURN, W.D. (1981) Meaning Across Cultures. Nueva York: Orbis (el traductor debe recrear el texto, para lo que necesita hacer una serie de presuposiciones pragmáticas que los autores llaman ‘cultural presuppositions’).
SÁNCHEZ BENEDITO, FCO. (1995) “Pragmatic Presuppositions in translation. Henry Miller’s Tropics, a case in point”, en KARL SIMMS (ed.)  Translating Sensitive Texts: Linguistic Aspects (1997), Amsterdam: Rodopi, 267-271 (análisis de dos versiones en español de los Trópicos de Miller, en las que se confirma la necesidad de las “presuposiciones culturales” de Nida, previas a la traducción).
SANTOYO, JULIO CÉSAR (1983) “A propósito del término ‘translema’. Actas del Primer Congreso Nacional de Lingüística Aplicada. Madrid: SGEL, 255-265 (considera como unidad de traducción el “translema”, que define como “la unidad mínima de equivalencia interlingüística, susceptible de permutación funcional y no reducible a unidades menores sin pérdida de su condición de equivalencia”.
SANTOYO, JULIO CÉSAR (1987) Traducción, traducciones, traductores: ensayo de bibliografía española. León: Universidad de León (único intento serio de bibliografía sobre los trabajos escritos en español acerca de la traducción en sus múltiples facetas: historia, crítica, teoría, práctica, didáctica, etc.).
SANTOYO, JULIO CÉSAR (1996) [1989] El delito de traducir (3ª ed.). León: Universidad de León (destaca, en primer lugar, el papel de la traducción en la cultura europea que “no existiría tal como hoy la conocemos sin los buenos oficios del traductor, que ha sido...la celestina y comadrona de Europa”. Analiza luego, de forma amena aunque documentada, ejemplos de buenas y, sobre todo, malas traducciones, resaltando algunas de las pifias más clamorosas, detectadas en textos escritos pertenecientes a géneros tan diversos como la poesía, la novela, el teatro o el cómic, u orales, como la televisión o el cine, y señalando sus posibles causas).
STEINER, GEORGE (1975) After Babel. Aspects of Language and Translation. Oxford: Oxford University Press (el traductor debe interpretar el texto en la propia L1, antes de abordar la traducción a la L2).
STERN, H.H. (1992) Issues and Options in Language Teaching. Oxford: Oxford University Press (básico para la didáctica del inglés; interesantes definiciones de términos relacionados con la misma, como curriculum, p. 19, syllabus, p. 20, Humpty Dumpty effect, p. 179, illocutionary force, p. 173, inventional grammar, p. 338, jigsaw principle, p. 197, ‘slice of life’ technique, p. 224, etc.; importante análisis de las intralingual y crosslingual strategies -pp. 289-297- y defensa de la traducción, sobre todo de la L2 a L1, como crosslingual strategy, pp. 293-297; excelente bibliografía).

11/6/14

Preparing for the 'oposiciones': familiar Spanish idioms (2nd part)

Today, some more Spanish idioms of a familiar style, difficult to translate into English. Dare you translate them?:

1.- Andando/arreando/marchando, etc. que es gerundio!
2.- Arrieros/arrieritos somos (y en el camino nos encontraremos).
3.- Aguantar carros y carretas/carretas y carretones (regional)
4.- Como Pedro por su casa.
5.- Estar con algo como Mateo con la guitarra/estar como niño con zapatos nuevos.
6.- Como el gallo de Morón, sin plumas y cacareando.

SUGGESTED ANSWERS

1.- Get a move on!; come on, chop-chop!
2.- I'll get back at you (for what you've done to me), just you wait!
3.- To take it lying down; to put up with anything.
4.- As if he owned the place.
5.- To be like a kid with a new toy; to be like a dog with two tails.
6.- Beaten/thrashed, but still proud/crowing.

Preparing for the 'oposiciones': familiar Spanish idioms (1st part)

Now, for the 'home stretch', we'll pay special attention to idioms, phrasal verbs and grammar transformation.

To begin with, here are some Spanish idioms of a very colloquial or familiar character, which are not always easy to find in general dictionaries. Dare you find some English equivalents?:

1.- A quien Dios se la dé, San Pedro se la bendiga.
2.- A la vejez, viruelas.
3.- Darle un baño a alguien/mojarle la oreja.
4.- Ahumársele a alguien el pescado.
5.- A toro pasado.
6.- Tocarle a alguien bailar con la más fea.

SUGGESTED ANSWERS

1.- Each one to his own, it's none of my business.
2.- Fancy that happening at his age; there's no fool like an old fool.
3.- To wipe the floor with sb.; to take sb. to the cleaner's.
4.- To get all steamed up.
5.- With the benefit of hindsight; wise after the event.
6.- To get the short end of the stick; to draw the short straw.

17/10/13

En defensa de la traducción

 En los últimos tiempos, se tiende a ver la traducción con recelo por parte de la mayoría de los profesores de idiomas que preconizan precisamente su evitación a la hora de comunicar en la L2 y sólo la aceptan en algunos casos en la enseñanza de idiomas con fines específicos. Estoy de acuerdo en que es totalmente desaconsejable traducir los mensajes de la L2 a la L1 o lengua materna para poder entenderlos o antes de expresarse, pero soy partidario de la traducción como técnica de refuerzo, independiente de las cuatro destrezas, pero complementaria a las mismas, a realizar en el aula y fuera de ella, especialmente en niveles avanzados. 
 Comparto hoy con vosotros un ejemplo de ejercicio de traducción, tomado de Counterpoint, uno de mis primeros libros, que escribí en colaboración con mi colega Enrique Lavín en 1978. Counterpoint, ahora totalmente agotado, tuvo bastante éxito en su día, fue usado como libro de texto para COU en muchos centros y tuvo varias reimpresiones, hasta los años '90, en que dejó de publicarse: 

 Mi amiga Melanie es una chica de quince años, bastante simpática, que piensa que la vida no es nada fácil para los adolescentes. Aunque es bastante bonita, tenía un problema. Según ella, su nariz es un poco grande. Hasta hace poco tenía pensado hacerse la cirugía estética, pero ha cambiado de idea desde que sale con un chico que le dice frecuentemente que tiene la nariz más bonita que ha visto. Ahora Melanie es una chica normal, sin complejos. 
 En cambio, Kathy es completamente diferente. Está llena de problemas y se pasa el día lamentándose. Usa gafas y está algo gorda. Dice que cualquier comida le engorda y que, por más ejercicios que hace, no consigue adelgazar. Piensa que todo el mundo se ríe de ella. 
 Por el contrario, otra amiga mía, Pat, aunque tiene más problemas que nadie, nunca la he oído quejarse de su tartamudeo, ni de las espinillas, propias de su edad, que le cubren la cara. Es una gran compañera y todos la apreciamos en el colegio. 
 En realidad, los adolescentes comparten preocupaciones similares, que el mundo de los adultos no sabe comprender. Por esta razón, muchos han adoptado nuevos modelos de conducta y han organizado centros de cultura para jóvenes, donde se reúnen y deciden lo que pueden hacer para divertirse. 

  SUGGESTED ANSWER  

  My friend Melanie is a rather nice fifteen-year-old girl who thinks life is not easy at all for teenagers. Though she is quite pretty, she has a problem. In her opinion, her nose is a bit too long. Until recently she had thought of plastic surgery on her nose, but she has changed her mind since she started going out with a boy who keeps telling her that she has the most beautiful nose he has ever seen. Now, Melanie is a well-adjusted girl with no hang-ups. 
 Kathy, however, is completely different. She is full of worries and keeps complaining all day long. She wears glasses and is a bit fat. She says any food makes her fat, and that no matter how much exercise she does, she doesn't manage to lose weight/she doesn't get any thinner. She thinks everybody laughs at her. 
 On the other hand, Pat, another friend of mine, although she has more problems than anybody else, has never been heard to complain about her stutter or the spots, natural at her age, that cover her face. She is a good classmate and we are all very fond of her at school. 
  In fact, teenagers share similar worries that the adult world cannot understand. For this reason, many have adopted new patterns of behaviour and have organized cultural centres for the young, where they get together and decide what they can do to have a good time.
















19/5/13

Léxico: idioms of the week

Exercise: Match the letters with the numbers

a- grin and bear it

b- not be over the hill yet

c- it's nothing to write home about

d- take somebody down a peg or two

e- at the back of beyond

f- I smell a rat

g- beat about the bush

h- clutch at straws

i- let somebody down

j- take somebody for a ride


1- donde Cristo dio las tres voces/perdió el gorro

2- no es nada del otro jueves

3- agarrarse a un clavo ardieno

4- bajarle los humos a alguien

5- al mal tiempo buena cara

6- llevar a alguien al huerto

7- no estar acabado todavía

8- andarse con rodeos

9- fallarle a alguien

10- aquí hay gato encerrado

KEY

a-5; b-7; c-2; d-4; e-1; f-10; g-8; h-3; i-9; j-6

18/5/13

Historias y humor: The Gabardine





I'm pleased to post for you today this short story by Francisca Castillo Martín (Paqui Castillo for her friends), which moved me deeply. The story is taken from her book La gabardina y otros cuentos chinos, and has been translated by Javier Martín Real, better known as Javier Vallestero. I hope you like it as much as I did:

In a tight-fitting grey gabardine, he walked a few yards with his face hidden behind the veil of blue smoke from a cigarette. Thus, almost unwittingly, he arrived at a street where he had never set foot before, or maybe only in his dreams. The mist enveloped people's faces, fading the shadows cast by corners and drawing small rings around the lamp-posts. The street seemed, at that time, a small theatre, almost empty and immaculate by pure age. The man watched everything unmoved, with the kind of disdain of a dandy who has come down in the world. In his eyes of an undefined color vague memories were reflected, images of that glorious past when he had been a god... and a devil.

He moved into another street and took the second turning on the right. He didn't like waiting and always followed the shortest route through life, no matter where it led. On the way, accidentally, he stumbled upon a scrawny dog which, indolent, just managed to wag its tail disapprovingly while the fleas continued inflicting damage on its tense anatomy. The man, more than ever, felt the wish to break into a run, the wish to reach some place with no particular destination and solve life's mystery that made him come to dead ends, to avenues of no return, to squares out of any congruent place.

It was raining. Like in those stories, it was pouring with rain, hopelessly so, finely and sublimely. The man squeezed his body against the light skin of the gabardine and, for the first time in years, he cursed the day he and the garment had met. Ah! Those were the days! He was a Hollywood heart-throb and the gabardine just another of many items of clothing in his wardrobe. At the time, the man spurned that piece of cloth because he had another five hundred like that, two hundred suits, a thousand pairs of shoes and more than one silk shirt smudged by the expensive lipstick from more than one woman. Yes, he now cursed it because he only had that dirty, smelly shred of cloth to remind him what he had been, what he had had, what he has now become. After the repossession of his luxury villa, the court costs incurred when he divorced his last wife, the loss of his works of art - sold cheaply at auction to his humiliation - he was left with only that: a rag. A rag covering half his body but a burden on his whole soul, a fucking, damn, undesirable rag. His only friend.

Yes, it was raining. Like in those stories, unexpectedly, feverishly, softly and gently. The first lights of the nameless city began to shine. The streets began to look similar to each other and each one like itself. A dense, foul-smelling fog enveloped all objects, transforming them into mere volumes which vaguely appeared like geometric shapes. Taking a turning at the end of the third street, and after turning right seven times seven, the man came to an unlit, long, narrow avenue. At that moment, he felt the avenue seemed very much like his life during the last few years: a woman (one of many), the only one he loved and the only one he felt he had lost, doss houses, brawls, alcohol, mental hospitals, occasional abandonment and casual sexual encounters. Coming halfway down the avenue, he felt the burden of the approaching loneliness like the storm about to break over the city. Then, his memories would inevitably get soaked and not even the gabardine could save him from a horrible and premature end. With his face creased from weeping, he prayed a litany before some dead poet's grave whose name was a blur among the undergrowth. The man was just a shadow of his former self, a black and white image of that past that had led him to the abyss, a cheap postcard like the eau de cologne he used to rinse his mouth after a drinking binge at a lousy hostel. It started to rain heavily, with the steady intensity of a squall. The man, prostrate on the ground of the avenue, didn't see the torrent coming like a tidal wave that swallowed everything in its path...

They found the body lying naked, trapped among some planks, between the poet's statue and the filthy asphalt of mud and detritus. At first, his deformed features went unnoticed among the hundreds of bodies piled up in the streets, because at that time he was just another of the victims of that freak typhoon that had devastated the town. Nevertheless, starting his shift, at nightfall, the inspector on duty - a middle-aged man with an aquiline nose and calm expression - recognized him immediately. Feeling an overwhelming grief, moved like a child by the contrite expression of that formerly seductive look, he covered his face with a scrap of grey cloth - it looked like some sort of coat or gabardine's lapel - that the dead man was gripping as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

In a tight-fitting grey gabardine, he walked a few yards with his face hidden behind the veil of blue smoke from a cigarette. Thus, almost unwittingly, he arrived at a street where he had never set foot before, or maybe only in his dreams. The mist enveloped people's faces, fading the shadows cast by corners and drawing small rings around the lamp-posts. The street seemed, at that time, a small theatre, almost empty and immaculate by pure age. The man watched everything unmoved, with the kind of disdain of a dandy who has come down in the world. In his eyes of an undefined color vague memories were reflected, images of that glorious past when he had been a god... and a devil.

He moved into another street and took the second turning on the right. He didn't like waiting and always followed the shortest route through life, no matter where it led. On the way, accidentally, he stumbled upon a scrawny dog which, indolent, just managed to wag its tail disapprovingly while the fleas continued inflicting damage on its tense anatomy. The man, more than ever, felt the wish to break into a run, the wish to reach some place with no particular destination and solve life's mystery that made him come to dead ends, to avenues of no return, to squares out of any congruent place.

It was raining. Like in those stories, it was pouring with rain, hopelessly so, finely and sublimely. The man squeezed his body against the light skin of the gabardine and, for the first time in years, he cursed the day he and the garment had met. Ah! Those were the days! He was a Hollywood heart-throb and the gabardine just another of many items of clothing in his wardrobe. At the time, the man spurned that piece of cloth because he had another five hundred like that, two hundred suits, a thousand pairs of shoes and more than one silk shirt smudged by the expensive lipstick from more than one woman. Yes, he now cursed it because he only had that dirty, smelly shred of cloth to remind him what he had been, what he had had, what he has now become. After the repossession of his luxury villa, the court costs incurred when he divorced his last wife, the loss of his works of art - sold cheaply at auction to his humiliation - he was left with only that: a rag. A rag covering half his body but a burden on his whole soul, a fucking, damn, undesirable rag. His only friend.

Yes, it was raining. Like in those stories, unexpectedly, feverishly, softly and gently. The first lights of the nameless city began to shine. The streets began to look similar to each other and each one like itself. A dense, foul-smelling fog enveloped all objects, transforming them into mere volumes which vaguely appeared like geometric shapes. Taking a turning at the end of the third street, and after turning right seven times seven, the man came to an unlit, long, narrow avenue. At that moment, he felt the avenue seemed very much like his life during the last few years: a woman (one of many), the only one he loved and the only one he felt he had lost, doss houses, brawls, alcohol, mental hospitals, occasional abandonment and casual sexual encounters. Coming halfway down the avenue, he felt the burden of the approaching loneliness like the storm about to break over the city. Then, his memories would inevitably get soaked and not even the gabardine could save him from a horrible and premature end. With his face creased from weeping, he prayed a litany before some dead poet's grave whose name was a blur among the undergrowth. The man was just a shadow of his former self, a black and white image of that past that had led him to the abyss, a cheap postcard like the eau de cologne he used to rinse his mouth after a drinking binge at a lousy hostel. It started to rain heavily, with the steady intensity of a squall. The man, prostrate on the ground of the avenue, didn't see the torrent coming like a tidal wave that swallowed everything in its path...

They found the body lying naked, trapped among some planks, between the poet's statue and the filthy asphalt of mud and detritus. At first, his deformed features went unnoticed among the hundreds of bodies piled up in the streets, because at that time he was just another of the victims of that freak typhoon that had devastated the town. Nevertheless, starting his shift, at nightfall, the inspector on duty - a middle-aged man with an aquiline nose and calm expression - recognized him immediately. Feeling an overwhelming grief, moved like a child by the contrite expression of that formerly seductive look, he covered his face with a scrap of grey cloth - it looked like some sort of coat or gabardine's lapel - that the dead man was gripping as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

16/5/13

Léxico: cold call

Cold call - llamada telefónica a alguien que no se conoce para venderle algo.

We all get this sort of calls almost daily, that's why I though it might be a good idea to tell you how it can be translated into English.

12/5/13

translating idioms: importance of the context

When translating an idiom, the context in which it's said is all important. The Spanish idiom 'ponerse las botas', for example, has a different translation in English in each of the following sentences:

- Se ha puesto las botas vendiendo juguetes chinos - he's made a pile selling Chinese toys.

- se puso las botas metiendo tabaco rubio de contrabando en el país - he lined his pockets smuggling Virginia tobacco into the country.

- se puso las botas comiendo gambas en el banquete de bodas - he stuffed himself with prawns at the wedding reception.

- ayer salí con mi novia y nos pusimos las botas en el asiento trasero de mi coche -I went out with my girlfriend yesterday and we engaged in heavy petting on the back seat of my car.

The same thing can be said of 'sentar como un tiro':

- la lasaña me sentó como un tiro - the lasagna disagreed with me.

- me sentó como un tiro que mi amigo Kevin saliese con mi novia - I was really miffed that my friend Kevin went out with my girlfriend.

- ese peinado te sienta como un tiro -  you look terrible on that hairdo.

In the same way 'dar calabazas' can be interpreted in two different ways:

- me declaré a Brenda, pero me dio calabazas - I proposed to Brenda, but she turned me down.

- el profe de mates me ha dado calabazas otra vez - the maths teacher has flunked me again.