Being a complete and accurate account of the filling, crust, baking, and eating thereof, with many salutary cautions, whereto is subjoined a question on the translation into French of a feeble jest…
This translation conundrum could be a case of Beckett's Last Theorem; not space enough in the margin to record it for posterity. Or maybe it's just his own ludic means to keep the critics busy for generations.
I had a similar thought. It holds out the promise that a century from now, if the human race is still unexpectedly in existence, some brilliant mathematician--or, rather, linguist--will find the solution to the wonderment of the world.
A reader named Pierre Whalon has written the following:
Bonjour. Ma traduction de votre blague : "Dans un bar, un homme se fait mordre la cheville par un petit terrier, dont le barman lui dit qu'il appartient au pianiste. L'homme va voir le pianiste et lui dit : « Ce chien vient de me mordre la cheville. Le connaissez-vous ?». Le pianiste lui répond : « Non, mais si vous en fredonnez quelques mesures, je peux improviser. »
My only problem with this is that it seems to me that the pianist, if he thinks he is being asked about a song (chanson), must hear the question as "la connaissez-vous?" That makes the joke depend on a perceptual fault rather than a zeugma.
Hey David, french fan of yours here, I tried translating the zeugma and came up with that : Un homme, assis à un bar, se fait mordre la cheville par un terrier ; le barman lui explique qu’il appartient au pianiste. L’homme va voir le pianiste et lui dit : « Est-ce que tu mesures ce qui vient de se passer ? » Ce à quoi le pianiste répond : « Non, mais si tu en fredonnes quelques-unes, je peux essayer. »
Umm…non. Pour que les blagues fonctionnent, l’information selon laquelle le chien a mordu l’homme doit être confondue avec le nom d’une chanson. Mais vous êtes proche de la cible.
I am forwarding the recipe to my wife with great expectations for the weekend.
I don't know any French save for a few useless words, but is it possible to keep the zeugma, in the crudest possible way, if you rearrange the sentence in French (in order to circumvent the conjunction "que") and use a verb denoting some kind of general awareness that is not so dependent on the object? For instance: "Your dog just bit my ankle; are you aware of that?"
Well, the scholar and publisher Cyril Soler sent me the following email:
Dear Dr. Hart,
Your translation puzzle brings to mind the flexibility of classical French, where 'savoir' could readily encompass both factual knowledge and acquaintance with arts or disciplines—one might 'savoir les mathématiques' just as naturally as one might 'savoir que 2 et 2 font 4.'
Drawing on this tradition, still alive in educated discourse, I propose:
« Votre chien m'a mordu, le savez-vous ? »
Were it delivered with the biting inflection characteristic of the local gentry—where one is never quite certain if faced with a question, a challenge, or a threat—this construction would preserve the zeugmatic ambiguity of the English "know," allowing the pianist's response to function as intended. The placement of "le savez-vous" at the end maintains both possible readings: awareness of an incident and familiarity with what could be construed as a musical title.
While modern French often distinguishes between 'savoir' and 'connaître,' this construction harks back to a more nuanced usage that accommodates both senses within a single verb, much as the English "know" does in your original joke.
Non, personne dirait ca dans une situation comme celle-là. Mon avis c'est qu'il est impossible de traduire cette blague en Francais directement. Même si vous utilisez "Tu" au lieu de "vous", la blague n'a pas de sens. C'est trop formelle d'être drôle.
Many thanks for sharing this. My wife and I shall certainly be trying the recipe. If anyone wishes to try a pie even more ambitious, I leave here a recipe cited in the introduction to Pies A-Plenty by Florence La Ganke Harris: "Take 8 marrow bones, 18 sparrows, 1 pound potatoes, 1/4 pound eringoes, 2 ounces lettuce stalks, 40 chestnuts, 12 pound dates, 1 peck oysters, 1/4 pound preserved citron, 3 artichokes, 12 eggs, 2 sliced lemons, a handful picked barberries, 1/4 ounce pepper, 1/2 ounce nutmeg, 1/2 ounce cinnamon, 1/4 ounce cloves, 1/2 ounce mace, 1/4 pound currants. Liquor it when it is baked with white wine, butter and sugar."
I set up a small restaurant in Paris in the early 80's 'Au Grain de Folie' - we made pumkin soup often, but never pumpkin pie...I didn't grow up with it.
Anyway, that's not the point. I know you like the Beatles. I've just discovered 'The Analogues' who have recorded a lot of the Beatles, including a live performance of the White Album - you might be impressed:
Well, I love your restaurant's name, I have to say. I try to do everything au grain de folie myself. I might even be so fou as to infuse pumpkin soup with bourbon.
While the cup of bourbon sounds terrifying and tantalising--I will have to summon up the courage to try this variation.
I have been forced in recent years to make pumpkin pie from scratch due to a lack of pumpkin puree in my foreign backwater of a location. The secret is to find a squash with a hearty flavor. After baking the squash, one then simmers the mash with the sugar and spices on the stovetop for 15-20 minutes, stirring frequently. This usually helps to break down the roasted squash further and infuses the spices and sugar into the puree:)
Almost, if grammatically off, but would anyone naturally talk about being au courant with a song? Maybe, I suppose, if he mistakes it for some popular hit he hasn’t heard yet: “Cela doit être nouveau ; fredonnez-moi quelques mesures.”
Professional French to English translator here. I would say the proposed French is at best unidiomatic and at worst ungrammatical. If one wished to use the expression "au courant", one would rather say something like "Etes-vous au courant que votre chien vient de me mordre la cheville ?"
Unfortunately I have no viable translation to propose. I'm intrigued to see whether this is a circle anyone else can square.
This translation conundrum could be a case of Beckett's Last Theorem; not space enough in the margin to record it for posterity. Or maybe it's just his own ludic means to keep the critics busy for generations.
I had a similar thought. It holds out the promise that a century from now, if the human race is still unexpectedly in existence, some brilliant mathematician--or, rather, linguist--will find the solution to the wonderment of the world.
A reader named Pierre Whalon has written the following:
Bonjour. Ma traduction de votre blague : "Dans un bar, un homme se fait mordre la cheville par un petit terrier, dont le barman lui dit qu'il appartient au pianiste. L'homme va voir le pianiste et lui dit : « Ce chien vient de me mordre la cheville. Le connaissez-vous ?». Le pianiste lui répond : « Non, mais si vous en fredonnez quelques mesures, je peux improviser. »
My only problem with this is that it seems to me that the pianist, if he thinks he is being asked about a song (chanson), must hear the question as "la connaissez-vous?" That makes the joke depend on a perceptual fault rather than a zeugma.
Hey David, french fan of yours here, I tried translating the zeugma and came up with that : Un homme, assis à un bar, se fait mordre la cheville par un terrier ; le barman lui explique qu’il appartient au pianiste. L’homme va voir le pianiste et lui dit : « Est-ce que tu mesures ce qui vient de se passer ? » Ce à quoi le pianiste répond : « Non, mais si tu en fredonnes quelques-unes, je peux essayer. »
Umm…non. Pour que les blagues fonctionnent, l’information selon laquelle le chien a mordu l’homme doit être confondue avec le nom d’une chanson. Mais vous êtes proche de la cible.
Bourbon is good; I really like Woodford Double Oaked, but maybe not for pie.
You are wise to advise the use of appropriate pumpkin.
My wife and I grew a small sugar pumpkin patch this last growing season - they are perfect for pie baking.
I will try this recipe, thank you.
The reason for the Season.
Also, I live in Alberta, Canada: home of the Smoky Lake Great White North Pumpkin Weigh-off and Fair.
I think the biggest pumpkin was over 2500lbs -
all the participants are massive, and no good for pie.
At the end of the Fair, the people hoist them into the air with a crane and drop them - smashing pumpkins.
Just a little fun fact from my exciting part of the world.
Thank you for this recipe, Dr. Hart.
Maker's Mark is my bourbon of choice for cocktails. I make a mean Whiskey Sour.
My departed mother’s favorite cocktail.
She had good taste!
I am forwarding the recipe to my wife with great expectations for the weekend.
I don't know any French save for a few useless words, but is it possible to keep the zeugma, in the crudest possible way, if you rearrange the sentence in French (in order to circumvent the conjunction "que") and use a verb denoting some kind of general awareness that is not so dependent on the object? For instance: "Your dog just bit my ankle; are you aware of that?"
Well, the scholar and publisher Cyril Soler sent me the following email:
Dear Dr. Hart,
Your translation puzzle brings to mind the flexibility of classical French, where 'savoir' could readily encompass both factual knowledge and acquaintance with arts or disciplines—one might 'savoir les mathématiques' just as naturally as one might 'savoir que 2 et 2 font 4.'
Drawing on this tradition, still alive in educated discourse, I propose:
« Votre chien m'a mordu, le savez-vous ? »
Were it delivered with the biting inflection characteristic of the local gentry—where one is never quite certain if faced with a question, a challenge, or a threat—this construction would preserve the zeugmatic ambiguity of the English "know," allowing the pianist's response to function as intended. The placement of "le savez-vous" at the end maintains both possible readings: awareness of an incident and familiarity with what could be construed as a musical title.
While modern French often distinguishes between 'savoir' and 'connaître,' this construction harks back to a more nuanced usage that accommodates both senses within a single verb, much as the English "know" does in your original joke.
Sincerely,
Cyril
Non, personne dirait ca dans une situation comme celle-là. Mon avis c'est qu'il est impossible de traduire cette blague en Francais directement. Même si vous utilisez "Tu" au lieu de "vous", la blague n'a pas de sens. C'est trop formelle d'être drôle.
Je crains que vous n'ayez raison. Mais Samuel Beckett a peut-être résolu le problème. Nous ne le saurons peut-être jamais.
Beckett did have a knack for creating and frustrating expectations. Small wonder that some of his friends suffered from mental problems.
Many thanks for sharing this. My wife and I shall certainly be trying the recipe. If anyone wishes to try a pie even more ambitious, I leave here a recipe cited in the introduction to Pies A-Plenty by Florence La Ganke Harris: "Take 8 marrow bones, 18 sparrows, 1 pound potatoes, 1/4 pound eringoes, 2 ounces lettuce stalks, 40 chestnuts, 12 pound dates, 1 peck oysters, 1/4 pound preserved citron, 3 artichokes, 12 eggs, 2 sliced lemons, a handful picked barberries, 1/4 ounce pepper, 1/2 ounce nutmeg, 1/2 ounce cinnamon, 1/4 ounce cloves, 1/2 ounce mace, 1/4 pound currants. Liquor it when it is baked with white wine, butter and sugar."
My mouth is watering. (Or, at least, my eyes are.)
I set up a small restaurant in Paris in the early 80's 'Au Grain de Folie' - we made pumkin soup often, but never pumpkin pie...I didn't grow up with it.
Anyway, that's not the point. I know you like the Beatles. I've just discovered 'The Analogues' who have recorded a lot of the Beatles, including a live performance of the White Album - you might be impressed:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaAy7wTks1A&list=RDEMQU09-1ZfKIubnDObD9yNeA&index=7
Well, I love your restaurant's name, I have to say. I try to do everything au grain de folie myself. I might even be so fou as to infuse pumpkin soup with bourbon.
Thanks for the link. I'll give it a spin.
While the cup of bourbon sounds terrifying and tantalising--I will have to summon up the courage to try this variation.
I have been forced in recent years to make pumpkin pie from scratch due to a lack of pumpkin puree in my foreign backwater of a location. The secret is to find a squash with a hearty flavor. After baking the squash, one then simmers the mash with the sugar and spices on the stovetop for 15-20 minutes, stirring frequently. This usually helps to break down the roasted squash further and infuses the spices and sugar into the puree:)
Sounds promising.
Rumpkin pie is also a thing. But yours sounds delightful and worth repeating. I’ll have to try.
I can be no help to the French, sadly. Though I do find the joke funny.
Almost, if grammatically off, but would anyone naturally talk about being au courant with a song? Maybe, I suppose, if he mistakes it for some popular hit he hasn’t heard yet: “Cela doit être nouveau ; fredonnez-moi quelques mesures.”
Alors…je ne sais pas….
And, again, the grammar is wrong.
Professional French to English translator here. I would say the proposed French is at best unidiomatic and at worst ungrammatical. If one wished to use the expression "au courant", one would rather say something like "Etes-vous au courant que votre chien vient de me mordre la cheville ?"
Unfortunately I have no viable translation to propose. I'm intrigued to see whether this is a circle anyone else can square.
Was Beckett promising more than he could deliver, do you think? It doesn’t sound like him to have done so.
I certainly wouldn't dare to presume that I know better than someone as prodigiously gifted as Beckett.