[soliloquy id="345"]
I was absolutely shocked when I discovered in an early translation ofย Traces of a Tattooย that the translator has decided to spice up the plot a bit by changing the outcome of a crucial scene. โWith these changes,โ he wrote in an e-mail, โyou can call it a a great novel. You may want to consider adding my name as co-author rather than pushing it down almost on the verge of the cropping marks.โ
For a strange reason, I can write books in English but I have never been satisfied when translating my own works. It just doesn’t read good enough, so I entrusted my brother, whose English is much better than mine, with the difficult task. Still, some scenes didnโt feel right. Arabic is a very rich language. Many of itsย mono syllabic root morphemes and bilateral roots were borrowed directly from the primevalย nature either in Africa, the original homeland, or in southernย Arabia. Words tendย to spark rather than express. Toย compensate the English reader, some flavourย had to be added.
Several passages in the English translation are not in the Arabic version. Here is one:
โAroub sighed deeply as if trying to expel her fears. Random is not chaos. It is just another system far more complex than any other. If it wasnโt a system, why is she with a young man she never met in her life? Could it all be coincidences? What made the mugger pick her mum and not one of thousands of women with handbags who swarm Knightsbridge every day? Hisham was there at the very moment fate struck hard. Was it also a coincidence? No room was available at all hotels. Was that a coincidence too?
Random is not chaos, nor is coincidence. They are natural systems, like any other. Was she guided to Wissam? Why? What is she to do now? What is he to do now?
Could it be fate? What is fate? Would Wissam have begun to like her had she not forced him to like her? He too, indeed, he too.
Aroub shook her head. Fate is made, not ordained. It is a door opened by time for a while and closed again. Fate doesnโt go in with the fated to give them a grand tour of the place inside. It doesnโt provide maps for the roads ahead; it doesnโt give tips on how to approach certain things and avoid others. It just opens the door for the chosen ones; thatโs all. It is up to them to decide what to do next. If she wants Wissam, she has to go through that door. If she doesnโt, she can sit on her bed and wait for it to close.
But what is she to do? She had driven away his girlfriend in the holiday season, a season when most people open their hearts wide and their doors even wider and invite those they love to come in and look around. This is what Hisham did. It is true that he tried hard but failed to find a room for them the first night. But he could have found for them a room in another hotel the next day.
He didnโt. He wanted them to stay. The first night was a coincidence. The second was not. It was a door opened for her and her mum, but Hisham wouldnโt let the door close again; not before he tried to recreate his fate.
Wissam, too. He had Arlene, but the moment he breathed the same warm air with her on the stairs, the warm air deposited in his chest by Arlene was expelled instantly and she was completely forgotten.
What a change?โ
Here is another vastly changed:
โThe telephone rang. Wissam returned to his room and closed the door. He sat on the chair and auditioned the second question. โOne, two, three, four, five,โ he counted and picked up the handset. โAroub, my love, how are you?โ
โIโm fine now, how areย you?โ
โAroub, Iโm going to ask you something very important. You donโt have to answer me right away. Take as much time as you want; Iโll wait for your answer as long as you want.โ
โI do. What other questions do you want to ask me?โ
Aroub heard a skidding noiseย followed by a bang and a suppressed cry of pain. She screamed: โWissam! What happened?โ
โAroub, darling,โ Wissam said after a while. โYou would not believe this. Iโve just fallen off my chair.โ
โHow?โ
โIโm not exactly sure. I thought I heard you say something.โ
โWhat did you hear me say?โ
Wissam hesitated. โI thought I heard you say, โI do.โ Did you say that?โ
Aroub laughed. โI said, โI too,โ meaning I too have a question for you.โ
โDamn it!โ Wissam said, utterly disappointed. โI could have sworn you said something else. I must have wanted to hear those words from you, but it wasnโt to be. Never mind, Iโll ask now, but first give me two seconds to steel myself.โ
When he felt ready, he didnโt have the chance to ask. All he could hear on the phone was Aroubโs laughter, getting louder and louder by the second. โYou silly boy,โ she said in between laughs. โOf course I said, โI doโ. I love you; what else can a girl in love say?โ
Aroub heard a skidding noiseย followed by a bang and a suppressed cry of pain, a bit louder than before.
โMy love,โ she screamed with deep concern. โWhat happened again?โ
Here is a third and definitely last passage:
โHow am I going to shake hands with the guests? Over one hundred guests have been invited and ten percent more are expected to come without invitation.โ
โYou should have been a little more careful,โ she said, glancing towards the kitchen where the ironing board still stood. โGrabbing the iron like that!โ
โThe ironing board was blocking the way. If I had known you used the iron, I wouldnโt have carried it.โ
โI ironed your shirts. You could have been more careful.โ
โHow much careful can I possibly be? Thereโre too many things on my mind. Had I not booked the hall, I would have postponed the wedding a second time.โ
โIf you do, Maggie will definitely leave you this time. Why should she have to suffer as well?โ
โItโs my fault then, is it not? We have known each other for four years now. The only spots I have seen were on her left buttock. Now look at me! Iโm covered with them. Maybe I have become allergic to her.โ
Alia gasped. โCould that be?โ
Samir reflected for a moment and shook his head. โThat canโt be. We have slept together four hundred and eighty six times, and nothing happened. It canโt be. I must be allergic to marriage.โ
Alia pushed herself back for a better look at the number. โYou count these things in America?โ
โShe does. Sheโs an accountant, as you know.โ
โWhat for?โ
โFor tax relief, I suppose. Ask her.โ
โSolved then,โ she said with a quick laugh. โYou can spend theย first night of your honeymoon counting the spots and blisters.โ
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