Обсуждение. Семинар № 12
| |
Silk-Wire | Дата: Суббота, 26.01.2013, 00:38 | Сообщение # 1 |
The Vorpal Blade
Группа: Администраторы
Сообщений: 418
Статус: Offline
| I never could find out what it was that occasioned the Hodgsons to lodge in the same house as the Jenkinses. Jenkins held the same office in the Tory paper as Hodgson did in the Examiner, and, as I said before, I leave you to give it a name. But Jenkins had a proper sense of his position, and a proper reverence for all in authority, from the king down to the editor and sub-editor. He would as soon have thought of borrowing the king's crown for a nightcap, or the king's sceptre for a walking-stick, as he would have thought of filling up any spare corner with any production of his own; and I think it would have even added to his contempt of Hodgson (if that were possible), had he known of the "productions of his brain," as the latter fondly alluded to the paragraphs he inserted, when speaking to his wife.
Jenkins had his wife too. Wives were wanting to finish the completeness of the quarrel, which existed one memorable Christmas week, some dozen years ago, between the two neighbours, the two compositors. And with wives, it was a very pretty, a very complete quarrel. To make the opposing parties still more equal, still more well-matched, if the Hodgsons had a baby ("such a baby!—a poor, puny little thing"), Mrs. Jenkins had a cat ("such a cat! a great, nasty, miowling tom-cat, that was always stealing the milk put by for little Angel's supper"). And now, having matched Greek with Greek, I must proceed to the tug of war. It was the day before Christmas; such a cold east wind! such an inky sky! such a blue-black look in people's faces, as they were driven out more than usual, to complete their purchases for the next day's festival.
Before leaving home that morning, Jenkins had given some money to his wife to buy the next day's dinner. "My dear, I wish for turkey and sausages. It may be a weakness, but I own I am partial to sausages. My deceased mother was. Such tastes are hereditary. As to the sweets—whether plum-pudding or mince-pies—I leave such considerations to you; I only beg you not to mind expense. Christmas comes but once a year." And again he had called out from the bottom of the first flight of stairs, just close to the Hodgsons' door ("such ostentatiousness," as Mrs. Hodgson observed), "You will not forget the sausages, my dear?" "I should have liked to have had something above common, Mary," said Hodgson, as they too made their plans for the next day, "but I think roast beef must do for us. You see, love, we've a family." "Only one, Jem! I don't want more than roast beef, though, I'm sure. Before I went to service, mother and me would have thought roast beef a very fine dinner." "Well, let's settle it then, roast beef and a plum-pudding; and now, good-by. Mind and take care of little Tom. I thought he was a bit hoarse this morning." And off he went to his work.
Now, it was a good while since Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Hodgson had spoken to each other, although they were quite as much in possession of the knowledge of events and opinions as though they did. Mary knew that Mrs. Jenkins despised her for not having a real lace cap, which Mrs. Jenkins had; and for having been a servant, which Mrs. Jenkins had not; and the little occasional pinchings which the Hodgsons were obliged to resort to, to make both ends meet, would have been very patiently endured by Mary, if she had not winced under Mrs. Jenkins's knowledge of such economy. But she had her revenge. She had a child, and Mrs. Jenkins had none. To have had a child, even such a puny baby as little Tom, Mrs. Jenkins would have worn commonest caps, and cleaned grates, and drudged her fingers to the bone. The great unspoken disappointment of her life soured her temper, and turned her thoughts inward, and made her morbid and selfish.
"Hang that cat! he's been stealing again! he's gnawed the cold mutton in his nasty mouth till it's not fit to set before a Christian; and I've nothing else for Jem's dinner. But I'll give it him now I've caught him, that I will!" So saying, Mary Hodgson caught up her husband's Sunday cane, and despite pussy's cries and scratches, she gave him such a beating as she hoped might cure him of his thievish propensities; when lo! and behold, Mrs. Jenkins stood at the door with a face of bitter wrath. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, ma'am, to abuse a poor dumb animal, ma'am, as knows no better than to take food when he sees it, ma'am? He only follows the nature which God has given, ma'am; and it's a pity your nature, ma'am, which I've heard, is of the stingy saving species, does not make you shut your cupboard-door a little closer. There is such a thing as law for brute animals. I'll ask Mr. Jenkins, but I don't think them Radicals has done away with that law yet, for all their Reform Bill, ma'am. My poor precious love of a Tommy, is he hurt? and is his leg broke for taking a mouthful of scraps, as most people would give away to a beggar,—if he'd take 'em?" wound up Mrs. Jenkins, casting a contemptuous look on the remnant of a scrag end of mutton.
Mary felt very angry and very guilty. For she really pitied the poor limping animal as he crept up to his mistress, and there lay down to bemoan himself; she wished she had not beaten him so hard, for it certainly was her own careless way of never shutting the cupboard-door that had tempted him to his fault. But the sneer at her little bit of mutton turned her penitence to fresh wrath, and she shut the door in Mrs. Jenkins's face, as she stood caressing her cat in the lobby, with such a bang, that it wakened little Tom, and he began to cry.
Everything was to go wrong with Mary to-day. Now baby was awake, who was to take her husband's dinner to the office? She took the child in her arms, and tried to hush him off to sleep again, and as she sung she cried, she could hardly tell why,—a sort of reaction from her violent angry feelings. She wished she had never beaten the poor cat; she wondered if his leg was really broken. What would her mother say if she knew how cross and cruel her little Mary was getting? If she should live to beat her child in one of her angry fits? It was of no use lullabying while she sobbed so; it must be given up, and she must just carry her baby in her arms, and take him with her to the office, for it was long past dinner-time. So she pared the mutton carefully, although by so doing she reduced the meat to an infinitesimal quantity, and taking the baked potatoes out of the oven, she popped them piping hot into her basket with the et-cæteras of plate, butter, salt, and knife and fork.
Обсуждение открыто
Перевожу иероглифы каприкорнов. Недорого.
|
|
| |
vmb | Дата: Понедельник, 28.01.2013, 17:11 | Сообщение # 16 |
Говорун в квадрате
Группа: Заблокированные
Сообщений: 144
Статус: Offline
| Penguin Я думаю, это инерция устоявшейся эмфатической конструкции, поэтому артикль остаётся даже перед именем собственным:
Цитата Другими атрибутивными конструкциями, в которых признак выдвигается на первый план, являются два интересных вида сочетаний с предлогом of, имеющих несколько эмфатическую окраску. Так, при описании внешности или манер человека используется своеобразная конструкция с предлогом of типа frank of face. Men were rough of speech and often drunk. Речь мужчин была грубой, и они часто бывали пьяны. Здесь признак как бы выдвигается на первый план. То же самое мы наблюдаем и в конструкции типа the devil of a man, где существительное devil обозначает признак лица и выполняет функцию определения. Любопытно, что, например, в испанском языке в той же конструкции в аналогичной функции выступает именно прилагательное, хотя и субстантивированное с помощью артикля (el bueno de Pedro добряк Педро). На русский язык такого рода сочетания переводятся по-разному: первый элемент их может быть переведен и прилагательным, и существительным, но он всегда будет выражать качество лица или предмета, которым является второй элемент сочетания: the devil of a man черт, а не человек, the darling of a dress прелестное платье и т. п.
М.А. Аполлова. Specific English
Цитата of a — used to indicate that someone or something is a particular type of person or thing her idiot of a husband [=her idiot/idiotic husband] Some fool of a policeman had arrested the wrong man! It is not that much of a problem. [=it is not a big problem] It wasn't that difficult of a shot. [=it was not a difficult shot] It wasn't that big of a deal. How big of a piece do you want?
Merriam-Webster's Advanced Learner's Dictionary
Ещё про «of a» есть пространная статья в Merriam-Webster's Dictionary of English Usage (страницы 680-681, юкозовский конвертер портит сложные ссылки, но там можно просмотреть полностью в режиме Preview this book).
Сообщение отредактировал vmb - Понедельник, 28.01.2013, 17:18 |
|
| |
Pathfinder | Дата: Понедельник, 28.01.2013, 23:02 | Сообщение # 17 |
Глаголом жгу сердца людей
Группа: Проверенные
Сообщений: 546
Статус: Offline
| Размышления о кулинарии.
sausages - сосиски или колбаса (-ски)? Выбрал бы последние. Чисто интуитивно. Почему-то кажется, что сосиски связаны уже с общепитом и советскими гастрономами. Или нет?
plum-pudding or mince-pies - пудинг (плам-пудинг) и пироги (-жки), оба блюда рождественские, т.е. традиционные. Имхо, в диалоге конкретизировать нет нужды. Особенно в первом случае. Я бы про начинку не упоминал. Важен общий выбор: чай или компот. А в этом месте: "roast beef and a plum-pudding" - можно и обозначить, что пудинг не простой. Прокатил бы "плам-пудинг" , как думаете?
scrag end of mutton - баранина бараниной, но здесь важнее, имхо, что это была кость с небольшим количеством мяса. "Костомаха" или как там это называют.
|
|
| |
|