Читать книгу I, Rigoberta Menchu - Rigoberta Menchu - Страница 5

Rigoberta’s narration reflects the different influences on her life. It is a mixture of Spanish learned from nuns and full of biblical associations; of Spanish learned in the political struggle replete with revolutionary terms; and, most of all, Spanish which is heavily coloured by the linguistic constructions of her native Quiché and full of the imagery of nature and community traditions.

She has learned the language of the culture which oppresses her in order to fight it–to fight for her people–and to help us understand her own world. In doing so, she has created a form of expression which is full of passion, poetry and wisdom. Sometimes, however, the wealth of memories and associations which come tumbling out in this spontaneous narrative leave the reader a little confused as to chronology and details of events.

The problem of translation was how to retain the vitality, and often beautiful simplicity, of Rigoberta’s words, but aim for clarity at the same time. I have tried, as far as possible, to stay with Rigoberta’s original phrasing; changing and reordering only where I thought the meaning could not be readily understood. Hence, I’ve left the repetitions, tense irregularities, and sometimes convoluted sentences which come from Rigoberta’s search to find the right expression in Spanish. Words have been left in Spanish or Quiché, where they are objects or concepts for which we have no precise equivalent. The two most obvious words in this category are ladino and compañero. Although ladino ostensibly means a person of mixed race or a Spanish-speaking Indian, in this context it also implies someone who represents a system which oppresses the Indian–first under Spanish rule and then under the succession of brutal governments of the landed oligarchy. So a word like ‘half-caste’ would be inadequate. Hence Rigoberta’s father’s invention ‘ladinizar’ (to ladinize, or become like a ladino) which is a mixture of ladino and latinizar (to latinize), and has both racial and religious connotations. I think it is clear that the word compañero, which literally means companion, changes its meaning during the book. Rigoberta initially uses it for her friends, and her neighbours in the community. But as the political commitment of both Rigoberta and her village grows, it becomes ‘comrade’, a fellow fighter in the struggle. She uses it for the militants in the trade unions, the CUC and the political organisations. The compañeros de la montana are the guerrillas. From these two words comes the rather unwieldy compañero ladino.

Rigoberta has a mission. Her words want us to understand and react. I only hope that I have been able to do justice to the power of their message. I will have done that if I can convey the impact they had on me when first I read them.

Ann Wright