Muzika Sferâ: Klasicna Muzika i Naucna Fantastika
Saturday, August 3rd, 2002 01:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tamaranthI've just been for a long walk in the rain and I'm very happy. I walked to Deptford to pick up what was described as a registered letter, but turned out to be much more exciting.
bouncebouncebounce
It's a pleasant walk to Deptford sorting office, and walking is by far the quickest way. The cycle route runs alongside the River Ravensbourne, which is concrete-walled outside my flat but is allowed to be itself once it gets past the DLR station. [see Tennyson, The Brook, for details]. The river has that lovely muddy stagnant smell of waterweed, and is edged with tall pink-flowered willow-herb. Back in the spring there were abundant frogs - I met several on my way back from yoga class one night - but they seem to be better at hiding now.
There's new flats going up near Deptford Bridge, rather more upmarket than mine - wooden-fronted, brightly-painted, Scandinavian in their spare geometric lines. Meanwhile, the beautiful empty warehouses and flour mills are draped with banners that indicate they won't be empty for much longer. (I would love to live in the top of a converted warehouse. So boho).
Deptford itself is an unreconstructed part of South London, complete with street market and pound shops and takeaways. There's a sizeable Afro-Caribbean population, so plenty of exotic fruit in the greengrocer's, and an abundance of haberdashers and hairdressers.
And there's Deptford Sorting Office, from where I pick up any parcel or letter that won't fit through the mailbox. Open 8-12 most days, which means waiting until Saturday to pick up the week's non-standard mail.
This morning's wasn't, as I expected, a new credit card or something irritating from my father's bank (who insist on sending everything registered after a couple of things went astray). This morning's item was a brown paper package with an 'Avionom' label and a return address in Belgrade.
Yes, I am now available in translation. bouncebouncebounce That is, part 1 of an article I wrote - 'Music of the Spheres: Classical Music & Science Fiction' - has appeared in Znak Sagite, a Serbian SF magazine. And they sent me a copy.
No, I don't read Serbian ... (It's a very nicely produced magazine, though!)
They have an unnerving habit of translating proper names. Am rubbing shoulders, in print at least, with Kima Newmana and Elen Detlou. (Have managed to determine the subject of the article by Lucius Shepard: some film produced in Novog Zelanda by a Piteru Džeksonu, featuring Jan Mekelen as Gandalf and Šona Bina as Boromir).
Am in print. I mean, I'm sure lots of people have read this article in Vector and online: but somehow this is much, much more real.
And I have to trust myself to my translator, and I have no way of checking whether what it says now is what I said then ... It's a strange sensation: like letting something go.
bouncebouncebouncebouncebounce
bouncebouncebounce
It's a pleasant walk to Deptford sorting office, and walking is by far the quickest way. The cycle route runs alongside the River Ravensbourne, which is concrete-walled outside my flat but is allowed to be itself once it gets past the DLR station. [see Tennyson, The Brook, for details]. The river has that lovely muddy stagnant smell of waterweed, and is edged with tall pink-flowered willow-herb. Back in the spring there were abundant frogs - I met several on my way back from yoga class one night - but they seem to be better at hiding now.
There's new flats going up near Deptford Bridge, rather more upmarket than mine - wooden-fronted, brightly-painted, Scandinavian in their spare geometric lines. Meanwhile, the beautiful empty warehouses and flour mills are draped with banners that indicate they won't be empty for much longer. (I would love to live in the top of a converted warehouse. So boho).
Deptford itself is an unreconstructed part of South London, complete with street market and pound shops and takeaways. There's a sizeable Afro-Caribbean population, so plenty of exotic fruit in the greengrocer's, and an abundance of haberdashers and hairdressers.
And there's Deptford Sorting Office, from where I pick up any parcel or letter that won't fit through the mailbox. Open 8-12 most days, which means waiting until Saturday to pick up the week's non-standard mail.
This morning's wasn't, as I expected, a new credit card or something irritating from my father's bank (who insist on sending everything registered after a couple of things went astray). This morning's item was a brown paper package with an 'Avionom' label and a return address in Belgrade.
Yes, I am now available in translation. bouncebouncebounce That is, part 1 of an article I wrote - 'Music of the Spheres: Classical Music & Science Fiction' - has appeared in Znak Sagite, a Serbian SF magazine. And they sent me a copy.
No, I don't read Serbian ... (It's a very nicely produced magazine, though!)
They have an unnerving habit of translating proper names. Am rubbing shoulders, in print at least, with Kima Newmana and Elen Detlou. (Have managed to determine the subject of the article by Lucius Shepard: some film produced in Novog Zelanda by a Piteru Džeksonu, featuring Jan Mekelen as Gandalf and Šona Bina as Boromir).
Am in print. I mean, I'm sure lots of people have read this article in Vector and online: but somehow this is much, much more real.
And I have to trust myself to my translator, and I have no way of checking whether what it says now is what I said then ... It's a strange sensation: like letting something go.
bouncebouncebouncebouncebounce
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Wheeee
Date: Monday, August 5th, 2002 06:35 am (UTC)Those look like transliterations. If you don't get exposed to much foreign media, those names can look very weird - and possibly, in conservative cultures, very rude. Fun.
Congrats!