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Spanish to English: Las Palabras (Luisa Valenzuela) General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Poetry & Literature
Source text - Spanish Cambio de armas por Luisa Valenzuela
Las palabras
No le asombra para nada el hecho de estar sin memoria, de sentirse totalmente desnuda de recuerdos. Quizá ni siquiera se dé cuenta de que vive en cero absoluto. Lo que sí la tiene bastante preocupada es lo otro, esa capacidad suya para aplicarle el nombre exacto a cada cosa y recibir una taza de té cuando dice quiero (y ese quiero también la desconcierta, ese acto de voluntad), cuando dice quiero una taza de té.
Martina la atiende en sus menores pedidos. Y sabe que se llama así porque la propia Martina se lo ha dicho, repitiéndoselo cuantas veces fueron necesarias para que ella retuviera el nombre. En cuanto a ella, le han dicho que se llama Laura pero eso también forma parte de la nebulosa en la que transcurre su vida.
Después está el hombre: ése, él, el sinnombre al que le puede poner cualquier nombre que se le pase por la cabeza, total, todos son igualmente eficaces y el tipo, cuando anda por la casa le contesta aunque lo llame Hugo, Sebastián, Ignacio, Alfredo o lo que sea. Y parece que anda por la casa con la frecuencia necesaria como para aquietarla a ella, un poco, poniéndole una mano sobre el hombro y sus derivados, en una progresión no exenta de ternura.
Y después están los objetos cotidianos: esos llamados plato, baño, libro, cama, taza, mesa, puerta. Resulta desesperante, por ejemplo, enfrentarse con la llamada puerta y preguntarse qué hacer. Una puerta cerrada con llave, sí, pero las llaves ahí no más sobre la repisa al alcance de la mano, y los cerrojos fácilmente descorribles, y la fascinación de un otro lado que ella no se decide a enfrentar.
Ella, la llamada Laura, de este lado de la llamada puerta, con sus llamados cerrojos y su llamada llave pidiéndole a gritos que transgreda el límite. Sólo que ella no, todavía no; sentada frente a la puerta reflexiona y sabe que no, aunque en apariencia a nadie le importe demasiado.
Y de golpe la llamada puerta se abre y aparece el que ahora llamaremos Héctor, demostrando así que él también tiene sus llamadas llaves y que las utiliza con toda familiaridad. Y si una se queda mirando atentamente cuando él entra – ya le ha pasado otras veces a la llamada Laura—descubre que junto con Héctor llegan otros dos tipos que se quedan del lado de afuera de la puerta como tratando de borrarse. Ella los denomina Uno y Dos, cosa que le da una cierta seguridad o un cierto escalofrío, según las veces, y entonces lo recibe a él sabiendo que Uno y Dos están fuera del departamento (¿departamento?), ahí no más del otro lado de la llamada puerta, quizá esperándolo o cuidándolo, y ella a veces puede imaginar que están con ella y la acompañan, en especial cuando él se le queda mirando muy fijo como sopesando el recuerdo de cosas viejas de ella que ella no comparte para nada.
A veces le duele la cabeza y ese dolor es lo único íntimamente suyo que le puede comunicar al hombre. Después él queda como ido, entre ansioso y aterrado de que ella recuerde algo concreto.
Translation - English “Other Weapons” by Luisa Valenzuela
Words
It does not surprise her at all that she has no memory, that she feels like she is completely devoid of memories. Perhaps, she does not even notice that she lives at absolute zero. What does worry her a considerable amount is another thing, this capacity of hers to apply the exact name to each thing and receive a cup of tea when she says that she wants it (and this also concerns her, this act of will), when she says, “I want a cup of tea.”
Martina waits on her in her every wish. And she knows that is her name because Martina has told it to her herself, repeating it as many times as were necessary for her to remember the name. When it comes to her, they have told her that her name is Laura, but that also forms part of the haze in which her life elapses.
Then, there is the man: that one, him, the nameless one to whom she could put any name that would occur to her, all equally effective, and the guy, whenever he is around the house, answers, even if she calls him Hugo, Sebastian, Ignacio, Alfredo or any other name. And it seems that he is around the house with the regularity necessary to calm her a little bit, putting a hand on each one of her shoulders and over her body in a progression not lacking in tenderness.
And after that, the daily objects: those things called plate, bathroom, book, bed, cup, table, door. It can be exasperating, for example, to be faced with the thing called a door and ask oneself what to do. A locked door, yes, but the keys are as close as an arm’s reach, on the shelf, the locks easily undone, and the fascination of another side which she has not yet decided to face.
She, the one called Laura, on this side of the thing called a door, with its things called locks and its thing called a key yelling out to her to transgress the boundaries. Except that she does not, not yet. Sitting in front of the door, she reflects and cannot, even though it seems to matter little to anyone.
All of a sudden, the thing called a door opens and the man whom we will now call Hector appears, thus demonstrating that he has those things called keys as well, and uses them with familiarity. And if she were to watch attentively when he comes in – as has happened on other occasions to the one called Laura – she would see that two other guys arrive along with Hector and stay outside of the door as if trying to erase themselves. She calls them One and Two, something that gives her a certain security, or a certain chill, depending on the circumstances; and she welcomes him, knowing that One and Two are outside the apartment (apartment?), just on the other side of the thing called door, perhaps waiting for him or taking care of him, and sometimes she can imagine them with her and that they accompany her, especially when he stays looking at her fixedly as if pondering her old self that she does not share at all.
I studied for two years in Monterrey, Mexico, and successfully completed half of my Bachelor's degree through the Anáhuac University of Mexico. During that time, I worked with junior high age girls at the then Mano Amiga Monterrey in Spanish only, giving them guidance. Next, I tested out of college Spanish with the CLEP test. I graduated with a Bachelor's of Science in Psychology, also possessing a thorough knowledge of theology, philosophy, and writing.
I worked as a private Spanish tutor in 2005.
At present, I am beginning the Spanish-English Translation Certificate at New York University. I also recently finished my Master's in Creative Writing at Eastern Michigan University. I work in poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and screenplays/ teleplays. I have translated two books from Spanish into English and other small projects. In addition, I am certified as a Teacher of English as a Foreign Language.
For the past four years, I have worked full time in the mental health/ medical field and am very comfortable with the terms and language of the field.
Expertise