00-13. Мои первые книжки (Jaws)

Jaws

by

«Мои первые книжки»

Мы начинаем с книги «Челюсти». Она выбрана нами только потому, что сюжет попал в поле зрения для демонстрации взаимозависимости реальных и художественных фактов. Кроме того, книга написана очень простым языком.

В целом мы рекомендуем читать только оригинальные неадаптированные тексты, выбирая из них те, которые написаны простым языком. Желательно, чтобы присутствовал некоторый ассоциативный ряд, т.е. до этого вы посмотрели фильм. Тогда книга будет читаться «в цвете»…

Тем, кто почти ничего ранее не читал, хочется сказать, что вы упустили огромное удовольствие. Ведь фильм смотрят полтора часа, а книгу читают десятки часов потому, что в них есть информация, которую нельзя передать средствами кинематографа. Это описание ситуаций, объектов, людей, переживания героев и т.д.  Многообразие красок вызовет эмоции, возбудит любопытство, вызовет негодование... Все это активизирует память.

Стремительно взрослеет «нечитающее» поколение, поэтому эти тривиальные мысли могут быть для многих откровением. Чтение же книг на английском языке чаще всего будет в новинку и тем, кто читал на русском.

Методология нашей школы основана на признании приоритета звучащих материалов на печатными, но их удачная комбинация только ускорит овладение английским языком. Мы будем использовать, как легкое «чтиво», так и классические шедевры. Начнем с «чтива».

Сравните первую страницу книги «Челюсти» в русском и английском варианте.

The great fish moved silently through the night water, propelled by short sweeps of its crescent tail. The mouth was open just enough to permit a rush of water over the gills. There was little other motion: an occasional correction of the apparently aimless course by the slight raising or lowering of a pectoral fin — as a bird changes direction by dipping one wing and lifting the other. The eyes were sightless in the black, and the other senses transmitted nothing extraordinary to the small, primitive brain. The fish might have been asleep, save for the movement dictated by countless millions of years of instinctive continuity: lacking the flotation bladder common to other fish and the fluttering flaps to push oxygen-bearing water through its gills, it survived only by moving. Once stopped, it would sink to the bottom and die of anoxia.

The land seemed almost as dark as the water, for there was no moon. All that separated sea from shore was a long, straight stretch of beach — so white that it shone. From a house behind the grass-splotched dunes, lights cast yellow glimmers on the sand.

The front door to the house opened, and a man and a woman stepped out onto the wooden porch

They stood for a moment staring at the sea, embraced quickly, and scampered down the few steps onto the sand. The man was drunk, and he stumbled on the bottom step. The woman laughed and took his hand, and together they ran to the beach.

“First a swim,” said the woman, “to clear your head.”

“Forget my head,” said the man. Giggling, he fell backward onto the sand, pulling the woman down with him. They fumbled with each other’s clothing, twined limbs around limbs, and thrashed with urgent ardor on the cold sand.

Afterward, the man lay back and closed his eyes. The woman looked at him and smiled. “Now, how about that swim?” she said.

“You go ahead. I’ll wait for you here.”

 

Огромная рыба бесшумно рассекала ночную воду, слегка взмахивая серповидным хвостом. Пасть ее была приоткрыта, чтобы потоки воды свободно проходили сквозь жабры.

Тело ее казалось неподвижным. Чуть приподняв или опустив один из грудных плавников, она легко меняла направление, как меняет направление полета птица, приподняв одно крыло или опустив другое. Ее глаза ничего не видели в ночной темноте, а другие органы чувств не посылали никаких тревожных сигналов в маленький примитивный мозг.

Можно было подумать, что рыба спит, если бы не это бесшумное скольжение — инстинкт самосохранения, выработанный за бесчисленные миллионы лет. Отсутствие плавательного пузыря, который есть у других, рыб, и околожаберных плавников, прогоняющих насыщенную кислородом воду сквозь жабры, заставляло ее быть в непрерывном движении. Если бы она остановилась, она пошла бы ко дну и погибла от недостатка кислорода.

Луны на небе не было, и берег казался таким же темным, как и вода. Светилась только длинная ровная полоса пляжа. Из окон дома, стоявшего за дюнами, кое-где поросшими травой, падали на песок желтые блики.

Парадная дверь дома открылась, и на деревянную веранду вышли мужчина и женщина. С минуту они постояли, глядя на океан, потом обнялись и сбежали со ступенек. Мужчина был пьян, на нижней ступеньке он споткнулся. Женщина рассмеялась, взяла его за руку и потащила к пляжу.

— Сначала искупаемся, — сказала женщина, — чтобы у тебя в голове прояснилось.

— Черт с ней, с головой, — ответил мужчина. Посмеиваясь, он повалился на песок, увлекая за собой женщину.

Они торопливо сбросили с себя одежду и кинулись друг другу в объятия.

Потом мужчина лег на спину и закрыл глаза. Женщина, взглянув на него, улыбнулась.

— Искупаемся? — спросила она.

— Ты иди. Я тебя подожду.

О пользе чтения в целом уже говорилось. Попробуем теперь доказать, что читать нужно в оригинале, если мы не хотим исказить оригинал до примитивного уровня.

Начнем с «эротики». Сравните:

-         They fumbled with each other’s clothing, twined limbs around limbs, and thrashed with urgent ardor on the cold sand.

-         Они торопливо сбросили с себя одежду и кинулись друг другу в объятия.

Перевод описания акулы сделан более тщательно, конечно. Чтение в оригинале не только существенно обогатит ваш словарный запас, но и позволит видеть интересные взаимосвязи.

Например, нам вряд ли интересен термин «околожаберный плавник», несмотря на то, что ‘shark fin soup’ может быть интересен всем не сильно озабоченным проблемами сохранения животного мира.

Слово ‘pectoral’ помогает нам более отчетливо представить образ акулы, хотя гораздо больше в художественном смысле означает ‘dorsal fin’

Кстати, «плавники» есть и на субмарине и на ракете:

Но это уже не «плавники»: something shaped like an animal's fin (the fins of a missile).

Dorsal fins имеют отношение к ракетам и субмаринам, но pectoral – нет (это вообще ближе к анатомии; см. ‘pectoral muscles’ – то, что крепится к грудной клетке).

Как видите, чтение в оригинале обогащает эрудицию, добавляет краски, помогает увеличивать словарный запас. Многие слова вы не сможете запомнить из приведенного выше текста. Это будет до тех пор, пока вы не встретите их в ситуации, которую представить гораздо легче. Пример - глагол ‘to scamper’ в предложении ‘They stood for a moment staring at the sea, embraced quickly, and scampered down the few steps onto the sand’.

Русский перевод: «С минуту они постояли, глядя на океан, потом обнялись и сбежали со ступенек».

Запоминание и правильное восприятие таких слов придет позднее, но в этом нет ничего страшного, так как 90% текста вам будет понятно в любом случае. Для того чтобы почувствовать глагол ‘to scamper’, представьте себе ребенка, который вырвался из руки матери и попал в вольер с гориллой. 

"And if anyone doesn't believe a 3-year-old can scamper off very quickly, they've never had kids."

Всему свое время, господа! Главное – быть открытыми для информации. Язык придет.

Читаем дальше

He sat on one bed and stared at the bundle of clothes on the other. He was certain the woman wasn’t in the house. There had been no other guests for dinner, so unless she had met someone on the beach while he slept, she couldn’t have gone off with anyone. And even if she had, he thought, she probably would have taken at least some of her clothes. Only then did he permit his mind to consider the possibility of an accident. Very quickly the possibility became a certainty. He returned to the host’s bedroom, hesitated for a moment beside the bed, and then softly placed his hand on a shoulder.

“Jack,” he said, patting the shoulder. “Hey, Jack.”

The man sighed and opened his eyes. “What?”

“It’s me. Tom. I hate like hell to wake you up, but I think we may have a problem.”

“What problem?”

“Have you seen Chrissie?”

“What do you mean, have I seen Chrissie? She’s with you.”

“No, she isn’t. I mean, I can’t find her.”

Jack sat up and turned on a light. His wife stirred and covered her head with a sheet. Jack looked at his watch. “Jesus Christ. It’s five in the morning. And you can’t find your date.”

“I know,” said Tom. “I’m sorry. Do you remember when you saw her last?”

“Sure I remember. She said you were going for a swim, and you both went out on the porch. When did you see her last?”

“On the beach. Then I fell asleep. You mean she didn’t come back?”

“Not that I saw. At least not before we went to bed, and that was around one.”

“I found her clothes.”

“Where? On the beach?”

“Yes.”

“You looked in the living room?”

Tom nodded. “And in the Henkels’ room.”

“The Henkels’ room!”

Tom blushed. “I haven’t known her that long. For all I know she could be a little weird. So could the Henkels. I mean, I’m not suggesting anything. I just wanted to check the whole house before I woke you up.”

“So what do you think?”

“What I’m beginning to think,” said Tom, “is that maybe she had an accident. Maybe she drowned.”

Здесь нет ничего особенного для обсуждения, кроме простейших фраз типа ‘I hate like hell to wake you up’. Как видите, читать в оригинале не так сложно.

Далее по тексту нам встретится, однако, одна интересная деталь.

“You don’t know about Daisy Wicker?”

“I guess I don’t.”

Again Janet lowered her voice. “She’s queer. She’s got a lady roommate and everything. She’s not even AC-DC. She’s just plain old DC.”

“I’ll be damned,” said Brody. “You sure do have an interesting job, Jan.”

Русский вариант растерял весь колорит, конечно:

— Так вы ничего не знаете о Дейзи?

— По-видимому, нет.

Джанет снова понизила голос:

— Она чокнутая. Предпочитает общество женщин.

— Ну и ну, — сказал Броди. — У вас и в самом деле интересная работа, Джан.

Оставим на совести переводчика приравнивание нетрадиционного интереса к «чокнутости». Так пока что устроено российское общество и его менталитет. Однако перед переводчиком стояла невозможная задача – передать тот, факт, что быть лесбиянкой, интересующейся также и мужчинами – это быть AC-DC

Ситуация похожа на универсальные приборы, которые способны работать, как от переменного, так и от постоянного тока:

Хочется надеяться, что у читателей не успел появиться вопрос «А где мне все это пригодится в реальной жизни?». Кстати, вы иногда можете услышать и такое:

Кинематограф зачастую упрощает романы. Главная его задача та же самая, что и у издателей книг, но книги доступны не всем. Поэтому в книгах все гораздо интереснее и разнообразнее. Для того, чтобы вы убедились в этом, предлагается самостоятельно изучить ту часть романа, которая описывает «романтические» отношения ихтиолога с женой полицейского. Это на 99% диалог.

Этот кадр заимствован из забавного ресурса, который анализирует моменты фильма и романа, которые принижают женщин (даже нападение акулы – наказание!):

AN OCEAN OF HATRED: MISOGYNY IN STEVEN SPIELBERG AND PETER BENCHLEY'S "JAWS"

Любопытные могут прочитать об этом тут

http://difficultyofseeing.blogspot.ru/2012/05/ocean-of-hatred-misogyny-in-steven.html

Далее 18+ (хотя все прилично)

He poured Ellen a glass of wine, then filled his own and raised it for a toast. “To fantasies,” he said. “Tell me about yours.” His eyes were a bright, liquid blue, and his lips were parted in a half smile.

Ellen laughed. “Oh, mine aren’t very interesting. I imagine they’re just your old run-of-the-mill fantasies.”

“There’s no such thing,” said Hooper. “Tell me.” He was asking, not demanding, but Ellen felt that the game she had started demanded that she answer.

“Oh, you know,” she said. Her stomach felt warm, and the back of her neck was hot. “Just the standard things. Rape, I guess, is one.”

“How does it happen?”

She tried to think, and she remembered the times when, alone, she would let her mind wander and conjure the carnal images. Usually she was in bed, often with her husband asleep beside her. Sometimes she found that, without knowing it, she had been rubbing her hand over her vagina, caressing herself.

“Different ways,” she said.

“Name one.”

“Sometimes I’m in the kitchen in the morning, after everybody has left, and a workman from one of the houses next door comes to my back door. He wants to use the phone or have a glass of water.” She stopped.

“And then?”

“I let him in the door and he threatens to kill me if I don’t do what he wants.”

“Does he hurt you?”

“Oh no. I mean, he doesn’t stab me or anything.”

“Does he hit you?”

“No. He just… rapes me.”

“Is it fun?”

“Not at first. It’s scary. But then, after a while, when he’s…”

“When he’s got you all… ready.”

Ellen’s eyes moved to his, reading the remark for humor, irony, or cruelty. She saw none. Hooper ran his tongue over his lips and leaned forward until his face was only a foot or so from hers.

Ellen thought: The door’s open now; all you have to do is walk through it. She said, “Yes.”

“Then it’s fun.”

“Yes.” She shifted in her seat, for the recollection was becoming physical.

“Do you ever have an orgasm?”

“Sometimes,” she said. “Not always.”

“Is he big?”

“Tall? Not…”

They had been speaking very softly, and now Hooper lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don’t mean tall. Is he… you know… big?”

“Usually,” said Ellen, and she chuckled. “Huge.”

“Is he black?”

“No. I’ve heard that some women have fantasies about being raped by black men, but I never have.”

“Tell me another one.”

“Oh no,” she said, laughing. “Now it’s your turn.”

They heard footsteps and turned to see the waitress approaching their table. “Is everything all right?” she said.

“Fine,” Hooper said curtly. “Everything’s fine.” The waitress left.

Ellen whispered, “Do you think she heard?”

Hooper leaned forward. “Not a chance. Now tell me another one.”

It’s going to happen, Ellen thought, and she felt suddenly nervous. She wanted to tell him why she was behaving this way, to explain that she didn’t do this all the time. He probably thinks I’m a whore. Forget it. Don’t get sappy or you’ll ruin it. “No,” she said with a smile. “It’s your turn.”

“Mine are usually orgies,” he said. “Or at least threesies.”

“What are threesies?”

“Three people. Me and two girls.”

“Greedy. What do you do?”

“It varies. Everything imaginable.”

“Are you… big?” she said.

“Bigger every minute. What about you?”

“I don’t know. Compared to what?”

“To other women. Some women have really tight ones.”

Ellen giggled. “You sound like a comparison-shopper.”

“Just a conscientious consumer.”

“I don’t know how I am,” she said. “I haven’t anything to compare it to.” She looked down at her half-eaten chicken, and she laughed.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

“I was just wondering,” she said, and her laughter built. “I was just wondering if — oh, Lord, I’m getting a pain in my side — if chickens have…”

“Of course!” said Hooper. “But talk about a tightie!”

They laughed together, and when the laughter faded, Ellen impulsively said, “Let’s make a fantasy.”

“Okay. How do you want to start?”

“What would you do to me if we were going to… you know.”

“That’s a very interesting question,” he said with mock gravity. “Before considering the what, however, we’d have to consider the where. I suppose there’s always my room.”

“Too dangerous. Everybody knows me at the Abelard. Anywhere in Amity would be too dangerous.”

“What about your house?”

“Lord, no. Suppose one of my children came home. Besides…”

“I know. No desecrating the conjugal sheets. Okay, where else?”

“There must be motels between here and Montauk. Or even better, between here and Orient Point.”

“Fair enough. Even if there’s not, there’s always the car.”

“In broad daylight? You do have wild fantasies.”

“In fantasies, anything is possible.”

“All right. That’s settled. So what would you do?”

“I think we should proceed chronologically. First of all, we’d leave here in one car. Probably mine, because it’s least known. And we’d come back later to pick up yours.”

“Okay.”

“Then while we were driving along… no, even before that, before we left here, I’d send you into the ladies’ room and tell you to take off your panties.”

“Why?”

“So I could… explore you while we’re on the road. Just to keep the motors running.”

“I see,” she said, trying to seem matter-of-fact. She felt hot, flushed, and sensed that her mind was floating somewhere apart from her body. She was a third person listening to the conversation. She had to fight to keep from shifting on the Leatherette bench. She wanted to squirm back and forth, to move her thighs up and down. But she was afraid of leaving a stain on the seat.

“Then,” said Hooper, “while we were driving along, you might be sitting on my right hand and I’d be giving you a massage. Maybe I’d have my fly open. Maybe not, though, because you might get ideas, which would undoubtedly cause me to lose control, and that would probably cause a massive accident that would leave us both dead.”

Ellen started to giggle again, imagining the sight of Hooper lying by the side of the road, stiff as a flagpole, and herself lying next to him, her dress bunched up around her waist and her vagina yawning open, glistening wet, for the world to see.

“We’d try to find a motel,” said Hooper, “where the rooms are either in separate cabins or at least not butted fight up against each other, wall to wall.”

“Why?”

“Noise. The walls are usually made of Kleenex and spit, and we wouldn’t want to be inhibited by the thought of a shoe salesman in the next room pressing his ear to the wall and getting his kicks listening to us.”

“Suppose you couldn’t find a motel like that.”

“We would,” said Hooper. “As I said, in a fantasy anything is possible.”

Why does he keep saying that? Ellen thought. He can’t really be playing a word game, working up a fantasy he has no intention of fulfilling. Her mind scrambled for a question to keep the conversation alive. “What name would you register us under?”

“Ah yes. I’d forgotten. These days I can’t conceive of anyone getting uptight about something like this, but you’re right: we should have a name, just in case we ran into an old-fashioned innkeeper. How about Mr. and Mrs. Al Kinsey. We could say we were on an extended field trip for research.”

“And we’d tell him we’d send him an autographed copy of our report.”

“We’d dedicate it to him!”

They both laughed, and Ellen said, “What about after we registered?”

“Well, we’d drive to wherever our room was, scout around to see if anyone seemed to be in the rooms nearby — unless we had a cabin to ourselves — and then go inside.”

“And then?”

“That’s when our options broaden. I’d probably be so turned on that I’d grab you, let you have it — maybe on the bed, maybe not. That time would be my time. Your time would come later.”

“What do you mean?”

“The first time would be out of control — a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am deal. After that, I’d have more control, and the second time I could prepare you.”

“How would you do that?”

“With delicacy and finesse.”

The waitress was approaching the table, so they sat back and stopped talking.

“Will there be anything else?”

“No,” said Hooper. “Just the check.”

Ellen assumed that the waitress would return to the bar to total the bill, but she stood at the table, scribbling and carrying her ones. Ellen slid to the edge of the seat and said as she stood up, “Excuse me. I want to powder my nose before we go.”

“I know,” said Hooper, smiling.

“You do?” said the waitress as Ellen passed her. “Boy, that’s what marriage will do for you. I hope nobody ever knows me that well.”

Специализируемся на развитии навыков говорения и понимания реальной речи на слух. Используем только оригинальные материалы.