This is a rough and very literal draft of Krossvatn. I will type out the early draft as it stands. We can see the similarities and differences between Faroese syntax and grammar.
Tað eru ikki nógv nýggjar, siðani eg var har norðuri. Hann hevði ligið lágt við áarføri
It is not many years since I was there in the north. It had lied low with heavy rain
dagin fyri, so var hann malin upp til útnyrðingin um náttina, hevði
the day before, when the north-west wind whirling up throughout the night had
klárað luftina og frysti í bein.
cleared the air and froze everything to bone.
Alt var avísað, eg fór av stað, svartakalkið lá sum ein glasskón um hvørja steinpirru,
All was covered in ice, and I went along the thin layer of ice that laid a film of glass around a very small stone,
og hvørt keldufar botnfryst. Smáfossarnir norður gjørnum skorarnar hingu storknaðir
and around a little spring frozen to the bottom. The little cascades through the terraces in the north froze,
og glerpípur úr hvørjum lofti; tað barst mær fyri, sum roysningar skelktu út úr
and icicles hanging from under the cliff cracked before me, as walruses made faces out from the
fjallinum og vistu hesar øgiligu tøkutenninar.
mountain and showed their fierce fangs.
Showing posts with label Heðin Brú. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heðin Brú. Show all posts
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Where is Krossvatn?
While working through Krossvatn, the short story by Heðin Brú, I decided to hunt for the lake itself, wading through dozens of maps for weeks, carefully feeling around for it. Such a small lake or pond would be difficult to come by -- who knows how small it could be! Maybe it was completely drained and no longer exists. That it existed during Heðin Brú's time I was certain, as his writings are set in specific locales. But that his writings are set all over the Faroe's opened the search to the entirety of the Faroe Islands. Krossvatn could literally be anywhere or nowhere at all. I was also concerned, of course, with whether the lake would exist somewhere on Sandoy or Suðuroy, having no detailed maps of either. My larger scale map (1:100,000) doesn't show any 'Krossvatn's' on either island, but Suðuroy is up to their knees in lakes unnamed on this map, especially north of Porkeri. And so I considered whether my search would be fruitless until, at least, I acquired the more detailed map sets.
I continued on however, but eventually stopped the random search somewhere on Eysturoy, near Toftir. I began to think about what I was looking for and sought instead to determine the origin of its name for possible clues to its whereabouts.
Does 'Kross' refer to its shape or religious significance? Was I looking for a cross-shaped pond? To find features that resemble things, hike over the 'cold cheek' (Køldukinn), or scale 'the witches finger', a pinnacle of rock known as Trollkonufingur. Other places are named for what they are... that 'white cliff' is called Hvítilklettur, and Brekkendin is 'the final slope', while Hamurendin is 'the end of the stretch of cliff' and á Stigum is 'the step'. More often, however, places are named because of their proximity to something -- features such as a cove or bay (vík), hills (brekk) and dales (dalur). Klaksvík is 'cliff-cove', Kirjka is 'church', and Dalur is 'dale'.
Krossvatn could be cross-shaped, but it seems likely that it would be named because of its proximity to something of religious significance. There are many sites in Faroe that have a religious significance, however, the significance for most rests in the minds of the people nearest them. Churches, for instance, were built in many bygd -- not all -- but typically one bygd in a few would have a church, even if it meant villagers would have to walk over the hills and mountains to get to it. If this was so, then Krossvatn could still be anywhere in the Faroes. But why would a lake have a Christian meaning and be just anywhere? If it was to have religious significance, it should be close to somewhere of great importance. There are a few notable places in the Faroes that have a great religious significance too, but none will likely compare to that of Kirkjubøur on the south-east coast of Streymoy.
Stare at a map containing the entirety of the Faroe Islands and place your finger in what you believe is that centre. If you are like me and considered that the centre of the islands must be on land, you probably placed your finger somewhere near Torshavn, likely south of it at Kirkjubøur. On my wall hangs a large Faroese topographic map. We had it framed just over a month ago and it has been a source of inspiration ever since. When looking at the map, drifting into day-dreams, my eyes could not help but to stare directly at it -- Krossvatn, that is. Yes -- there it is! And it is there, somewhere near the centre, north of Kirkjubøur, lying some 325 metres above sea, directly between Kirkjubøur and Kirkjubøreyn, the hill that dominates the view when looking south-west from Torshavn.
For now though, I am uncertain about the religious significance of Krossvatn. Yet having only translated some of Heðin Brú's story, I feel he is working towards something of the divine. He talks about the lake stirring with all of life -- the Faroese Genesis, origins of the world, naval of the Earth, where everything begins and returns in the end. Kirkjubøur* was the Faroese seat of the Norwegian Catholic Church in the Middle Ages, the cultural centre and the Faroe Islander's connection to a distant world. Through time, however, the centre of the Faroes moved across Kirkjubøreyn to Torshavn. It's possible that the lake was named because it was near to such a well-trodden path between the two centres of the Islands. A pilgrimage from Torshavn to Kirkjubøur, however, would not have come across this lake, as it sits too high above the plain of sight to be seen from the path, though hillwalkers climbing to Kirkjubøreyn would easily spot it.
It's hard to tell at this point whether Krossvatn has some relation to Kirjkubøur. We'll have to work through the story some more and see if there are any other clues. For now we are allowed the pleasure of wonder.
*I could not give Kirkjubøur enough justice without talking at length about it, so I'll refrain from further comment in this post, but readers who are interested should visit the post office in Torshavn and pick up a copy of 'The Cathedral and other Historic Relics at Kirkjubøur'
I continued on however, but eventually stopped the random search somewhere on Eysturoy, near Toftir. I began to think about what I was looking for and sought instead to determine the origin of its name for possible clues to its whereabouts.
Does 'Kross' refer to its shape or religious significance? Was I looking for a cross-shaped pond? To find features that resemble things, hike over the 'cold cheek' (Køldukinn), or scale 'the witches finger', a pinnacle of rock known as Trollkonufingur. Other places are named for what they are... that 'white cliff' is called Hvítilklettur, and Brekkendin is 'the final slope', while Hamurendin is 'the end of the stretch of cliff' and á Stigum is 'the step'. More often, however, places are named because of their proximity to something -- features such as a cove or bay (vík), hills (brekk) and dales (dalur). Klaksvík is 'cliff-cove', Kirjka is 'church', and Dalur is 'dale'.
Krossvatn could be cross-shaped, but it seems likely that it would be named because of its proximity to something of religious significance. There are many sites in Faroe that have a religious significance, however, the significance for most rests in the minds of the people nearest them. Churches, for instance, were built in many bygd -- not all -- but typically one bygd in a few would have a church, even if it meant villagers would have to walk over the hills and mountains to get to it. If this was so, then Krossvatn could still be anywhere in the Faroes. But why would a lake have a Christian meaning and be just anywhere? If it was to have religious significance, it should be close to somewhere of great importance. There are a few notable places in the Faroes that have a great religious significance too, but none will likely compare to that of Kirkjubøur on the south-east coast of Streymoy.
Stare at a map containing the entirety of the Faroe Islands and place your finger in what you believe is that centre. If you are like me and considered that the centre of the islands must be on land, you probably placed your finger somewhere near Torshavn, likely south of it at Kirkjubøur. On my wall hangs a large Faroese topographic map. We had it framed just over a month ago and it has been a source of inspiration ever since. When looking at the map, drifting into day-dreams, my eyes could not help but to stare directly at it -- Krossvatn, that is. Yes -- there it is! And it is there, somewhere near the centre, north of Kirkjubøur, lying some 325 metres above sea, directly between Kirkjubøur and Kirkjubøreyn, the hill that dominates the view when looking south-west from Torshavn.
For now though, I am uncertain about the religious significance of Krossvatn. Yet having only translated some of Heðin Brú's story, I feel he is working towards something of the divine. He talks about the lake stirring with all of life -- the Faroese Genesis, origins of the world, naval of the Earth, where everything begins and returns in the end. Kirkjubøur* was the Faroese seat of the Norwegian Catholic Church in the Middle Ages, the cultural centre and the Faroe Islander's connection to a distant world. Through time, however, the centre of the Faroes moved across Kirkjubøreyn to Torshavn. It's possible that the lake was named because it was near to such a well-trodden path between the two centres of the Islands. A pilgrimage from Torshavn to Kirkjubøur, however, would not have come across this lake, as it sits too high above the plain of sight to be seen from the path, though hillwalkers climbing to Kirkjubøreyn would easily spot it.
It's hard to tell at this point whether Krossvatn has some relation to Kirjkubøur. We'll have to work through the story some more and see if there are any other clues. For now we are allowed the pleasure of wonder.
*I could not give Kirkjubøur enough justice without talking at length about it, so I'll refrain from further comment in this post, but readers who are interested should visit the post office in Torshavn and pick up a copy of 'The Cathedral and other Historic Relics at Kirkjubøur'
Krossvatn
Over the past few weeks, when time allowed or when a break called for relaxing at the table, I would open up Lockwood's Modern Faroese and slowly translate Heðin Bru's 'Krossvatn'. For a short story of just three pages, I have only managed to work through about a quarter of it. But I'm not translating in such a way to quickly progress through the language. If I was, I'm clearly doing it the wrong way.
As I mentioned in a previous post, translating works like this is a very slow process. Learning a language in this way is similar to the Cambridge Latin Course, which immerses the student in readings and incorporates grammar as they progress through translating the works. The method de-emphasizes memorizing rules of grammar and syntax. Similar to older instruction, the method is used by people who prefer to jump into reading classics in their original language rather than wade through memorizing charts and tables of cases and out-of-context phrases. 'Modern Faroese' is very good at providing the necessary tools to begin a work in this way, but does not provide specific grammar references as you work through a reading, as the Cambridge Latin Course provides. The grammar and syntax come slowly, but can be referenced in the previous sections, just as words are looked up in dictionaries. To be honest, I have learned more about grammar in these few weeks than I have in all my years in school.
The following is my translation of the first paragraph of Krossvatn. The translation is often very literal and some was easy to come by (see the first line) but plenty had to be made sense of, and these sections undergo constant revision. Some sections were very difficult and I had to make some assumptions about the meanings of what appear to be idiomatic phrases (see the italicized phrase below). Quite a few idioms are thankfully provided in Lockwood's glossary, however. If anyone has corrections or suggestions, I would be very grateful to hear them.
Cross-lake is not really a lake, it is a pond in a bog, and nothing else. A river runs in and another out,—but Cross-lake becomes its calling and the story sings in older times that it was once a lake; but then they drained the water from it*. The river which runs out is a deep and straight ditch, so it was likely guided by the hand of man—yes, and so the water was drained, but it is almost like something in that wretched pond, after which having a certain nature, has the collection of all life in the old lake itself. And why shall it not have the given name? You should be obliged not to laugh in scorn or mock, as you walk past you say, "Call that a lake, a mere hole!" No, let it have the name, it bears it with honour.
"What life is here?"
"Don't ask, look, it is before our time. Now is a new year, don't bother about it—something stirs alive here all the same."
Krossvatn er einki rættiligt vatn, tað er ein hylur í einum mórudiki, ikki er annað. Ein áin rennur í og onnur úr. -- Men Krossvatn verður tað rópt, og søgan sigur, at í eldri tíð var tað eitt vatn; men so veittu teir tað av. Áin, ið rennur frá, er eisini ein djúp grøv og jøvn so tað er líkt til, at har hevur mannahon verið.—Ja, og so er vatnið runnið burtur; men tað er mest, sum tann, neyðar hylurin, ið eftir er vorðin, hevur savnað alt lívið í tí gamla vatninum í seg. Og hví skal hann so ikki hava tað gamla navnið? Tú skalt ikki læa upp á háð, tú kemur framvið, og siga: "Hatta eita vatn, eitt glupsi!" Nei, lat hann hava navnið, hann ber tað við lit.
"Hvat lív er har?"
"Spyr ikki, hygg, tað er fyri hvønn mann. Nú er nýggjár, legg einki í tað, har bragdar kortini."
*Thanks to Bart for this correction.
As I mentioned in a previous post, translating works like this is a very slow process. Learning a language in this way is similar to the Cambridge Latin Course, which immerses the student in readings and incorporates grammar as they progress through translating the works. The method de-emphasizes memorizing rules of grammar and syntax. Similar to older instruction, the method is used by people who prefer to jump into reading classics in their original language rather than wade through memorizing charts and tables of cases and out-of-context phrases. 'Modern Faroese' is very good at providing the necessary tools to begin a work in this way, but does not provide specific grammar references as you work through a reading, as the Cambridge Latin Course provides. The grammar and syntax come slowly, but can be referenced in the previous sections, just as words are looked up in dictionaries. To be honest, I have learned more about grammar in these few weeks than I have in all my years in school.
The following is my translation of the first paragraph of Krossvatn. The translation is often very literal and some was easy to come by (see the first line) but plenty had to be made sense of, and these sections undergo constant revision. Some sections were very difficult and I had to make some assumptions about the meanings of what appear to be idiomatic phrases (see the italicized phrase below). Quite a few idioms are thankfully provided in Lockwood's glossary, however. If anyone has corrections or suggestions, I would be very grateful to hear them.
- - -
Cross-lake is not really a lake, it is a pond in a bog, and nothing else. A river runs in and another out,—but Cross-lake becomes its calling and the story sings in older times that it was once a lake; but then they drained the water from it*. The river which runs out is a deep and straight ditch, so it was likely guided by the hand of man—yes, and so the water was drained, but it is almost like something in that wretched pond, after which having a certain nature, has the collection of all life in the old lake itself. And why shall it not have the given name? You should be obliged not to laugh in scorn or mock, as you walk past you say, "Call that a lake, a mere hole!" No, let it have the name, it bears it with honour.
"What life is here?"
"Don't ask, look, it is before our time. Now is a new year, don't bother about it—something stirs alive here all the same."
- - -
Krossvatn er einki rættiligt vatn, tað er ein hylur í einum mórudiki, ikki er annað. Ein áin rennur í og onnur úr. -- Men Krossvatn verður tað rópt, og søgan sigur, at í eldri tíð var tað eitt vatn; men so veittu teir tað av. Áin, ið rennur frá, er eisini ein djúp grøv og jøvn so tað er líkt til, at har hevur mannahon verið.—Ja, og so er vatnið runnið burtur; men tað er mest, sum tann, neyðar hylurin, ið eftir er vorðin, hevur savnað alt lívið í tí gamla vatninum í seg. Og hví skal hann so ikki hava tað gamla navnið? Tú skalt ikki læa upp á háð, tú kemur framvið, og siga: "Hatta eita vatn, eitt glupsi!" Nei, lat hann hava navnið, hann ber tað við lit.
"Hvat lív er har?"
"Spyr ikki, hygg, tað er fyri hvønn mann. Nú er nýggjár, legg einki í tað, har bragdar kortini."
*Thanks to Bart for this correction.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Reading and Listening to Faroese Literature
I know some islands that have mountains and green hillsides,
and in wintertime are covered in snow,
and beautiful streams run there and cascade a lot;
they all want to hurry into the blue sea.
The above is the translation of the first verse of 'Eg Oyggjar Veit' provided by Hjalmer Peterson and Jonathan Adams in the textbook 'Faroese: A Language Course for Beginners'. The book can be purchased from H. N. Jacobsens Bókhandil. From this store you can also purchase books on cd. Click the link 'ljòðbøkur' on the lefthand sidebar of the homepage. Most of the available cd's do not come with the accompanying literature, so check to see if a hard copy is available too. Sverre Patursson's 'Ábal og aðrar søgur' (the first book on the page) is a book of short stories, and what better way to learn the language. Ábal is the name of a boy in the story, and 'og aðrar søgur' means 'and other stories'. This book is quite good as the stories are short and simple and at this stage, following along and listening to the sound of the language is the most important step. Other short story books and recordings are available too, even translations of popular literature into Faroese.
For now, listen to the youtube reading of 'Einbýli' by Heðin Brú. The accompanying text can be found on the youtube site showing this video .
and in wintertime are covered in snow,
and beautiful streams run there and cascade a lot;
they all want to hurry into the blue sea.
The above is the translation of the first verse of 'Eg Oyggjar Veit' provided by Hjalmer Peterson and Jonathan Adams in the textbook 'Faroese: A Language Course for Beginners'. The book can be purchased from H. N. Jacobsens Bókhandil. From this store you can also purchase books on cd. Click the link 'ljòðbøkur' on the lefthand sidebar of the homepage. Most of the available cd's do not come with the accompanying literature, so check to see if a hard copy is available too. Sverre Patursson's 'Ábal og aðrar søgur' (the first book on the page) is a book of short stories, and what better way to learn the language. Ábal is the name of a boy in the story, and 'og aðrar søgur' means 'and other stories'. This book is quite good as the stories are short and simple and at this stage, following along and listening to the sound of the language is the most important step. Other short story books and recordings are available too, even translations of popular literature into Faroese.
For now, listen to the youtube reading of 'Einbýli' by Heðin Brú. The accompanying text can be found on the youtube site showing this video .
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)