LAS LENGUAS INGLESA Y ESPAÑOLA de Delfín Carbonell

 Cuando le pedí al entonces Editor-in-Chief del Oxford English Dictionary, John Simpson, que escribiera el prólogo para mi diccionario de refranes, me respondió afirmativamente y añadió: "in for a penny, in for a pound". Venía a decir que, una vez metido en harina, lo mismo daba asumir un compromiso más. En castellano habría podido decir: «preso por mil, preso por mil quinientos». También: «puestos a ello, hagámoslo». El refrán inglés tiene un sentido muy próximo: una vez iniciada una empresa, o aceptado un riesgo, lo razonable es seguir adelante hasta el final. Entre nosotros, la idea aparece asimismo en el viejo dicho «es igual ocho que ochenta», empleado, entre otros, por Quevedo, Gracián y Gabriel y Galán.

  ¿Qué leemos cuando leemos una traducción? (Article by Delfín Carbonell) This article examines a brief passage from Thomas Mann’s Death in Venice through four different translations -three in Spanish and one in English- and compares them with a contemporary translation produced by artificial intelligence. By analyzing the translators’ divergent lexical, stylistic, and interpretive choices, a fundamental question is explored: what do we actually read when we read a translation? The comparison illustrates how each version preserves certain elements of the original while reshaping it in accordance with the translator’s linguistic preferences and cultural assumptions. The discussion also touches on the growing role of artificial intelligence in literary translation and argues that, regardless of whether a human or a machine produces a translation, it remains an interpretation rather than a direct reproduction of the source text. Readers of translated literature, therefore, encounter ...

This year, the Madrid Book Fair coincided with Pope Leo XIV's visit, which turned the city upside down. I was fortunate enough to reach Retiro Park in less than half an hour, but getting home proved an ordeal and took well over ninety minutes, with traffic at a near standstill. This was not my first time signing books at the Fair, and I approached the occasion with some misgivings. As it turned out, all went well. I signed a few copies (Editatum stand, 154), met long-lost friends, shared a laugh or two, and mingled with crowds of book lovers. Madrid is still a manageable city, far removed from the vastness of Mexico City, Tokyo, or even Paris, yet the Fair was crowded, cheerful, and civil. All in all, it was a most pleasant outing, one that dispelled my initial reluctance about attending. Another year, another Book Fair. See you in 2027!

Body language often communicates what words leave unsaid. A glance, a shrug, or a gesture can reveal our feelings more quickly and effectively than a carefully chosen sentence. One such gesture is to curl one's lip , that slight raising of the upper lip that conveys disgust, contempt, or disdain. Thus we read: "Sophie curled her lip in disgust" (Fern Michaels, Breaking News , 2012). Spanish has its own equivalent expressions. We may torcer el morro , arrugar el morro , or retorcer el morro .  Manuel Seco's Diccionario fraseológico documentado del español actual defines torcer el morro rather economically as "poner mala cara." A vivid illustration appears in Gonzalo Torrente Ballester's Filomeno, a mi pesar : "Primero torció el morro, después se echó a reír." The gesture itself is instantly recognizable. Whether we curl our lip in English or torcemos el morro in Spanish, we communicate disapproval before uttering a single word. Body language ...

  La Feria del Libro ya está en marcha en Madrid. El sábado, 6 de junio, de 12:30 a 13:30 estaré en la Caseta 154. Quizá sea mi última firma, si los astros no lo remedian. Creo que se ofrecen unos once títulos míos, todos sobre cuestiones lingüísticas y de bilingüismo en español-inglés. 

María Moliner tells us in her dictionary that pintiparar means “equiparar, comparar una cosa con otra.” Try using the verb before a Spanish speaker and observe the reaction. One suspects that many would be puzzled, for pintiparar has virtually disappeared from modern usage. The curious thing is that the verb has all but vanished, while its participle continues to enjoy a modest but stubborn existence. Thus we still encounter pintiparado in expressions such as venir pintiparado , ser pintiparado or venir que ni pintiparado . Manuel Leguineche, in his novel La tierra de Oz (2000), writes: “Si no está roto, no lo arregles, era el refrán pintiparado para la ocasión.” Likewise, the Mexican writer Rosario Castellanos uses the expression in El eterno femenino (1975): “Y este papel de dios me viene pintiparado.” Many words that are now unused or nearly forgotten survive in expressions, phrases, or idioms. English provides numerous examples of the same phenomenon. As for the meaning of pi...