maths matters

It doesn't add up

Well, maths matters to me, which is why it bothered me when I saw this advert in Madrid.

The caption echoes a Spanish refrán, though I’m not sure which is the original version. I’ve found both “Lo bueno, si breve, dos veces bueno” (attributed to Baltasar Gracián), and “Lo bueno, si barato, dos veces bueno”.

Both are valid points, but in the Burger King ad, the sums don’t add up: Chicken, if it’s 100% chicken, is not twice chicken.

Gracián’s phrase is best translated as “Less is more”, and is excellent advice for writers. A more literal translation would be, “If it’s good, and it’s short, it’s doubly good.”

The quote is often followed up with something to the effect that “lo malo, si breve, no tan malo.” – “if it’s bad, and it’s short, it’s not so bad.”

Either way, I’d better stop now.

forbidden words II

I’ve no time at the moment to write what I want to about geographical limits to poetry and how far we should dumb down for our (international) readers – a follow on from my doubts and the comments about gossamer.

So instead, I’ve dug out the piece I wrote as a response to the usenet challenge to write a poem including the words – love / soul (or spirit) / insane / shard / tendril / darkness – or variations from the same roots (e.g. as ‘insanity’). It’s an old piece and it’s not the best poem I’ve ever written. Even so, I admit to being fond of it, and of Aunt Emmeline.

forbidden words

When I posted the poem returning, a while back, I’ll admit that it wasn’t because I think it’s particularly good. It just seemed to suit the mood and the weather.

One of the problems I see with it is the “poesy”: the self-conscious and unnecessary use of poetic words. I think that including the word gossamer and the phrase in her wake is pretty much unforgivable in so short a piece. The latter could easily be replaced by behind her without losing any of the meaning. After all, whoever “she” is, she’s almost certainly not a boat.

red sky in the morning

Maybe I should have realised it was some kind of warning…

flobbalob, or words to that effect

According to the guide book I’m translating, the great Mosque-Cathedral in Córdoba boasts arcos polilobulados. Isn’t that a wonderful word? (Brits of a certain age will understand that it immediately made me think of Bill and Ben.)

Unfortunately, it’s the type of word that is liable to terrify a non-native reader: all those vowels, all those syllables… it must be complicated.

And, of course, it isn’t in the diccionario de la Real Academia, which makes it even more worrying.

This happens so often when you’re reading a foreign text: a word isn’t immediately obvious, so panic sets in.