Shakespeare’s Spanish Syllables
One of the great advantages of the English language is the way it denotes possession. By simply adding an apostrophe and an “s” after a noun (Mexico’s), we know that the following element belongs to the word with the apostrophe (Mexico’s literature). The Spanish way is a little more roundabout and perhaps a little more elegant, but it does need two extra words. If I were talking about Mexico’s President in Spanish, I would have to say “El Presidente de México”. The procedure is clear: one must use an article before that which is possessed, the preposition de after the article possessed, and finally the person, place, or thing that actually does the possessing: “la propuesta de Enrique.”
The English way is advantageous in that it uses fewer words, but it may not be as expressive as in Spanish. It all boils down to what one is looking for: speed or clout. Once in a while (and only once in a while), using a few extra words really drives a point home, perhaps even more than if we had used the bare minimum. As a matter of fact, Spanish generally tends to be long winded in comparison to English. Translations from English to Spanish are usually about 20% lengthier, not necessarily because translators charge by the word, but because the Spanish language is simply not as succinct as English. It breathes much better in longer constructions. English words are wont to bunch up. Take these three words, for example: “John’s big dogs”. Three words in three syllables. In Spanish I would have to translate: “Los perros grandes de Juan”. Five words in seven syllables. Is this because I am a poor translator? As a matter of fact, there aren’t many other ways I could translate the phrase otherwise without going off the deep end stylistically (“Los perrotes [o: perrazos] de Juan”]. It’s just the way Spanish is.
This is a tremendous liability, especially when translating poetry from English to Spanish. And if the poetry is in fixed meter, the difficulties abound. But let’s go back to the example of John’s big dogs. It is common in English-language poetry to heap together two or more monosyllables and then another word accented on the first syllable, as in “O, sweet death, take me now to your bosom”. Nine words in ten syllables. In Spanish I would have to write something like “Oh, dulce muerte, tráeme a tu pecho ahora”. Only eight words in fifteen syllables. The real difference, however, is in the character of the verse. The English is poignantly choppy, while the Spanish poignantly flows. They use two entirely different methods to say the same thing. In order to compensate for the overgrowth of syllables, the Spanish words come together when there are vowels at end of one word and the beginning of another. As a matter of fact, the Spanish translation of the original English pentameter comes to only 11 poetic syllables in Spanish: an endecasílabo, a classic meter in both Spanish and Italian.
English choppiness is a real problem in Spanish, though. Do you remember Macbeth’s speech in Act V, Scene V? This is how it goes:To morrow, and to morrow, and to morrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to dayTo the last syllable of recorded time,And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor playerThat struts and frets his hour upon the stageAnd then is heard no more: it is a taleTold by an idiot, full of sound and fury,Signifying nothing. What does one do with the “Out, out, brief candle?” What does one do with the “struts and frets,” the “sound and fury”? Well, the best translation I’ve come across belongs to Juan F. Urquidi, and he resorts to pure trochaic for the “Out, out, brief candle”: “¡Cesa ya, breve luz! La vida es sólo / una sombra que pasa”. And as far as the strutting and fretting is concerned, he does a very good job, choosing —of course— the way of Spanish by opting for the grandeur of the endecasílabo: “Que en las tablas se agita y pavonea”.In other words, there is no way on Earth to make Spanish sound like English. Thank God. One must take advantage of each language’s natural charm, and Spanish is big in the charm department, part of that charm being the way it tends to expand instead of contract.It’s funny Shakespeare used the word “syllable” to quantify life and history: “To the last syllable of recorded time”. I guess syllables are important; the way we use them; the way we enjoy pronouncing them, putting them together, pulling them apart. So the next time you have to talk about John’s big dogs in Spanish, don’t fret over having to use so many syllables. Not everything is mere sound and fury, and those extra words really do signify something: it may take more syllables to possess something in Spanish, but that way we have more time to enjoy it all...
If you would like to know more about any idiomatic expressions
you may have heard, or about any Spanish-language difficulties, feel free
to contact me at sandrocohen@gmail.com
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