دی ۰۳، ۱۳۹۸

Something to read



Something you want, something you need
Something to wear, and something to read


If the last item is on your gift list, I'd like to suggest “Proof I was here” for yourself, and “Wonder” for kids 9 year-old and above.

“Proof I was here” is Becky Blake’s first novel that was published this year in 2019. I came across Blake’s work by reading her short stories and I loved them so much that I translated two of them so far. She soon became one of my favorite Canadian authors.

Her writing style is simple and honest; she doesn’t try to impress the reader, and yet she never fails to surprise us with smallest things that first seem trivial, but then make a deep heartfelt connection and leave a profound mark on soul.

“Proof I was here” is about a young Canadian woman who moves to Barcelona, Spain, to join her fiancé, but they break up after only a week. Unwilling to return to Toronto, she turns to life on the streets. Living among pickpockets, squatters and graffiti artists, she takes us to a journey to to explore concepts such as belonging, security, and human connection and interactions.

The following is a part from the book “Proof I was here”:
~~~~~~~~
The beer seller was speaking quickly to Manu in heavily accented Spanish. I thought I heard something about money, the word marijuana maybe. After a few minutes, he turned to me, smoothing down his mustache. “Where are you from?” he asked in English.
“Canada.”
“Canada?”
“Yes.”
“My cousin lives in Canada!” He put his hand over his heart. “Céline Dion! Niagara Falls!” He started to sing “My heart will go on.” He had a good voice. After a few bars he stopped. “What city?”
“Toronto.”
“Toronto! My cousin lives in Toronto! Kipling and 401! Do you know where this is?”
“Yes.” The trade school where I studies graphic design was out there. It was an ugly part of the city – just a bunch of highways and industrial strip malls near the airport, noisy airplanes flying overhead.
“It’s very nice – my cousin told me.” The beer seller looked out to sea. “Someday I will go there. Maybe to live.”
I recognized the expression on his face – I’d felt the same way about moving to Spain – but it was hard for me to imagine that someone’s dream could be to go on Highway 401 and Kipling Avenue in Toronto.
~~~~~~~~






“Wonder” by R.J. Palacio, has already been a New York Times best seller since it was published in 2012. There is a movie based on this novel – with the same name, starring Julia Roberts and Owen Wilson.

I read Wonder with my grade 3 son this past summer. We made a deal to finish reading the book before watching the movie. We took turn reading it, each one read a page aloud for the other one. The experience was just ah-mazing.

Reading aloud is such an emotional experience. I cried several times, although I tried hard not to! I bet the same words wouldn’t make me teary, had I read the book only to myself. But reading to my 9-year-old about life's unfairness and unexpectedness, challenging people along our way, and losing our loved ones; as well as reading about life’s joyful moments, friendship, trust, kindness, wonderful people and things that keep us going on despite everything else, was emotional beyond my expectations.

This book is a great choice to read together probably because it has several narrators: we hear the story of August told by himself, his sister, and his friends. We also hear his parents' concerns.

“Wonder” is a story of a grade 5 student, August, who is different from all other his classmates. While we keep saying that nobody is perfect, August cannot hide his very obvious imperfection. He has to face it, accept his problem for the rest of his life, and learn how to deal with it. 

As parents, we often think our children live a perfect life, but is that how they feel?
For as long as human lives, human struggles with all kinds of new challenges. 
Our children have a world of their own, including concerns of their own. As our kids grow older, they’ll experience discrimination, injustice, friend’s betrayal, and classmates influence. They uncover unwritten rules about measuring success, individual’s differences and life limitations.

While August’s problem is one of the very extreme ones, reading his story helps our children to be able to relate it to the challenges they face themselves. To know that they are not alone. To understand and respect each others’ differences, learn about what is cool and what is harmful, and how to remain strong and hopeful.

One of the best conversations we ever had was when we watched the movie in the end, and my son told me “the book was way more better than the movie!” To which I took the glorious opportunity to reply “Books are always better than movies!”
Watching with the rest of the family, he bragged about which part of the book was not covered in the movie, or how they were not able to show all the important details about when the family dog died – “that’s when mom cried” he explained.  We also talked about how much the characters in the movie differed from the characters that we had imagined in mind while reading the book. I said I liked Julia Roberts for the mom role and didn’t think Owen Wilson was the best choice to play the dad, while he disagreed – he liked Owen to play the dad role. And that disagreement, hearing his personal opinion, going through this whole conversation, was a pure delight to experience. I may even say, it was one of the best ever book talk of my life.


The following is a part from the book “Wonder”:
~~~~~~~~
Some things you just can’t explain. You don’t even try. You don’t know where to start. All your sentences would jumble up like a giant knot if you opened your mouth. Any words you use, would come out wrong.
~~~~~~~~







آذر ۰۷، ۱۳۹۸

رویاهای بر باد رفته چه می‌شود؟



      آهسته آهسته می‌خشکد؟
      مثل انگور زیر آفتاب؟

      یا چرک می‌کند و آب می‌افتد؟
      مثل زخم و جرح؟

      بوی تعفن می‌گیرد؟  
      مثل گوشت گندیده؟

      یا سرش شکرک می‌بندد؟
      مثل مربا و عسل؟

      شاید هم قنبله می‌شود و آویزان می‌ماند.
      مثل یک کوله بار سنگین.

      یا اینکه یک روز منفجر می‌شود؟



* ''هارلم'' – شعری از لنگستون هیوز
برگردان: م. ج.





Harlem

What happens to a dream deferred?

      Does it dry up
      like a raisin in the sun?
      Or fester like a sore—
      And then run?
      Does it stink like rotten meat?
      Or crust and sugar over—
      like a syrupy sweet?

      Maybe it just sags
      like a heavy load.

      Or does it explode?


مهر ۲۶، ۱۳۹۸

حتی سه‌تار


امسال کلاس چهارمه. بعد شام ازش می‌پرسم کدوم درس‌ها رو بیشتر دوست داره؟
به انگلیسی و فرانسه مخلوط جواب می‌ده: ورزش، هنر، مطالعات اجتماعی.
بعد از من می‌پرسه تو دوران مدرسه کدوم درس‌ها رو بیشتر دوست داشتم؟
می‌گم ریاضیات و ادبیات.
نمی‌گم بقیه درس‌ها چقدر همه بی‌خاصیت و شبیه هم بود. ادبیات را هم پراندم آن وسط. نگفتم کتاب‌های درسی ما چقدر کم‌محتوا و بی روح بود.
یکهو ابروهاش می‌ره بالا. "یعنی میوزیک دوست نداشتی؟"
می‌گم "ما اصلا درس موسیقی نداشتیم."
تا کمر خم می‌شه روی میز. ابروهاش می‌پره بالاتر. می‌گه "وااات؟ یعنی حتی سه‌تار هم نداشتین؟"
این"حتی" گفتنش خنده‌مون رو منفجرمی‌کنه. از بس بهشون گفتیم اون موقع‌ها کامپیوتر و موبایل و اینترنت نبود، حالا به همون قیاس فکر کرده پس لابد ساز هم هنوز اختراع نشده بود که ما واحد موسیقی نداشتیم. (بی‌خود نیست طفلکی‌ها فکر می‌کنن ما دایناسورها رو دیدیم.)
براش توضیح میدیم که زمان ما تدریس موسیقی تقریبا ممنوع بود. هر چند واقعا چه جوری می‌شه همچین چیزی را توضیح داد؟
ما فقط دو تا آدم از دو نسل متفاوت نیستیم. ما دو تا آدم خیلی شبیه به هم‌ایم، از دو کهکشان متفاوت.
براش اون جک رو گفتم که یک بچه‌ی مرفه می‌خواست فقر را تعریف کند و نوشته بود "آنها خیلی فقیر بودند. حتی باغبان و آشپز و پیشخدمت‌شان هم فقیر بود."

مرداد ۲۵، ۱۳۹۸

«مامان، کارای منو دوست داری؟»  پسرک چهارساله پشت سرم ایستاده.

من سرگرم کار خودم هستم. به شدت احساساتی جواب میدم: «معلومه! همیشه کاراتو دوست دارم.»

«کدومشو بیشتر دوست داری؟»
«همه‌ی کاراتو دوست دارم.»
«ولی کدومشو بیشتر؟»

سخت مشغولم. بچه‌ها همیشه وقت و بی وقت سوال‌هاشون گل میکنه. گاهی پیله میکنن به یک چیز الکی. حالا رایکا داره غش غش از جواب‌های من می‌خنده و منم اینقدر عجله دارم که به سوالش دقت نمی‌کنم. وقت ندارم فکر کنم کدوم کارش را بیشتر دوست دارم. با همین خندیدنش خوشم و هی همون جواب‌های ابلهانه خودم رو به شکلهای مختلف –قربان صدقه وار – تکرار میکنم.  میگم: «همه‌شو... من عاشق خودتو و کاراتم.»
دوباره اصرار میکنه. این‌ دفعه میگم «اصلا خودتو از همه‌ی کارات بیشتر دوست دارم. تو رو ... آره خودتو»

با خنده داد میکشه: «ماماااان! مگه من کارم؟»

برمی‌گردم. پشت سرم همه‌ی ماشین‌هاش را ردیف چیده. همه‌ی ''کار''هایش را.

کارم را ول می‌کنم. بغلش میکنم. میگم  «اون ماشین سبزه رو»، همونی که میدونم خودش از همه بیشتر دوست داره. حالا می‌پرسه: «چرااا؟»

و این ''چرا'' خودش آغاز فاز جدیدی از سوال‌هاست...




-از  مکالمات فارسینگلیش، رایکا در چهار سالگی