Linguistic interpenetration or why globalism is here to stay
I don't know about the rest of you, but I always find is fascinating to see where hits to my blog have originated. If the hit is the result of a search, it is curious to see what the search was -- apparently, my blog is the only place on the web (or at least as far as Google is concerned) where the words "boliwood" and "sex" are found on the same page.
After I posted my translation yesterday, I am curious whether the "K" word will attract unsuspecting visitors from various Aryan Nation types of sites. We shall see.
Speaking of that derogatory term. Artistic integrity compelled me to use it. In the original, Babel uses the word "Zhid," meaning "Kike," rather than "Yevrey," which means a Jew when referring to Ruvim Tartakovsky. None of the translations I am aware of have made that distinction (fear of the Anti Defamation League?). To me that type of self imposed artistic curtailment amounts to banning Mark Twain out of public schools and libraries.
But this is not really what I wanted to talk about today. Being Friday, I feel the weekend is upon us. I will be getting together with a group of friends to do the Vodka 101 instructional in a charming Russian restaurant in Brookline. Mentally preparing for the event, I started to think of instances where the Russian language and culture had penetrated the American terrain. And it has, in the most curious ways (and I mean beyond such terms as “Sputnik” – which, by the way, should be pronounced spOOtnik, “Tovarishch,” etc.)
The most notable (and enjoyable, as far as I am concerned) is found in the movie A fish called Wanda.” It’s when Archie Leech – the John Cleese character – is dancing around, undressing and regaling Wanda with a Russian poem. In true Python fashion, Leech did not chose some simple rhyme, some Russian equivalent of “Roses are Red and Violets are Blue.” While, all things considered, his pronunciation is quite good, it took me years to realize what poem it was. I was reading Nina Berberova’s wonderful autobiography The Italics are mine, in which, among other things she is describing how, as a child, she enjoyed copying famous poems and passing them off as her own. One of the poems she is referring to is Mikhail Lermontov’s “Prayer.” Its refrain of “Light, light” (Lekhko, lekhko in Russian) enchanted her. That gave me my clue. I opened my collection of Lermontov poems and indeed, “Prayer” is the poem that Cleese is reciting. The poem is rather engaging, and even useful. Here is my rendition of it into English:
Prayer by Mikhail Yurivich Lermontov
At times when life is so unfair,
When sorrow clouds my sight,
There is a wondrous, magic prayer
I am wont to recite.
There is a force salubrious
In it's words' lively cheer --
They're seething with mysterious
And holy wonders clear.
Then doubt rolls off from my breast,
Like doom, and turns to flight,
Then all is laughter, tears dispersed,
And it’s so light, so light.
The other rather amusing one is found in Tom Lehrer’s Lobachevsky song. When he gets to the point of quoting from supposed Russian reviews of his works, the quoting is done in excellently pronounced Russian. When the text of the song is quoted, the Russian is always rendered as “Russian double-talk,” which it is not. The first one reads, “Once upon a time there lived a king; a louse lived during his reign.” The second one reads: “I go where even the Czar goes by foot” -- it is a Russian saying, referring “toilette.” This information may be totally useless, but may help you in an improbably trivia competition.
So, just so I have some type of reference to the heading of this entry – I too cringe when I see a McDonald’s next to an ancient Italian palazzo. On the other hand, I am really happy to see one on the highway. Cultural and linguistic interpenetration happens regardless of what we think or wish – there was an entire movement in Russia in the first half of the 19th century to preserve the purity of the Russian language. Their issue was that too many French words were being incorporated into Russian – Mebel for furniture, Abajure for lampshade, Shapka for hat, Etage for floor, and the list goes on and on and on. As a Russian speaker, the ridiculousness of this notion is truly laughable. While the words were French, their sound was completely russified. A truly amusing one is the Russian term for someone who is begging in a truly obsequious way – “Sharamyshnik.” While it may not sound particularly French to you, it comes from “Cher amie.” A terms used by French soldiers, who were begging for food and shelter in the Russian country side after Napoleon’s defeat in his Russian campaign of 1812. My point is, scratch any language or culture, and you will find many others, there is no homogeneity there. The process of fusion may be annoying to contemporaries, but this is the stuff of life, so live with it!
9:50:06 AM 
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