Translator Woes
"Why?" I ask, exasperated with myself. "Why did I do that?"
When the Calligrapher sits in his studio's windowseat, it's like looking at a puddle of sunshine: gold light, golden face, warm robes. But Shame's the one in it now, and with his high-contrast coloring and dark clothes he's brought shadows to a place I associated only with light. "Do what?"
"I use "male" and "female" sometimes," I say, setting the red pen down on the print-out. "Then I use "man" and "woman." I'm going to have to standardize on one."
"Which will you choose?" Shame asks, looking at me.
"Probably male and female," I say. "Man and woman... they imply something in our language that I don't think is... reasonable." Before he can ask, I explain, "Kherishdar doesn't do gender roles the way we do, and using "man" and "woman" will evoke that. "Male", "female"... those are biological terms and usually less loaded."
"Again with the pants," Shame guesses. "Why do your readers believe Farren less of a man because he wears robes? Most of us do."
"It's not about the pants," I say. "Maybe it's because to us, an intrinsic part of being a man involves... an aggressive-protective attitude. Almost at a genetic level."
"As if all of your men were Guardians?" Shame asks, the set of his ears indicating intrigue. "All your men can carry weapons?"
"In this country, anyway," I say. Only members of the Guardian caste can use weapons in Kherishdar. "But yes, typically."
"How curious," Shame says. "Is there so much wrong that every male must take up arms?"
"Well, no," I say, squirming. "Maybe I'm just not explaining it well."
"So Farren is feminine because he is not... aggressive?" Shame asks. He laughs. "You have not seen him after one suggests he paint something inappropriate. But come, am I more of a "man" than him?"
"You'll probably read that way since you're involved with discipline and justice," I say. "People will probably think your heart is harder." I lift my ink-stained hands. "No, no, don't ask me 'are all your men insensitive and cold.' I'm talking about perception, not reality."
"Very well," Shame says. "So your readers will think me more masculine because I Correct the faulty."
"And perhaps because you act, rather than think about acting," I say.
"Because painting wisdom to teach and reassure others isn't action," Shame says.
"Not... the kind people consider masculine, not often," I say. And sigh. Talking to him is always like this. I feel embarrassed by my own assumptions even as he traps me with them. "It's hard to escape biology, Shame. We may rise above it, but somewhere in our gut it's still churning away, and our great passion plays often reduce to us fighting out genetic imperatives... or trying not to. That's part of being human, I think."
"I see," Shame says, and I go back to editing to keep from meeting his too-pale eyes. He lets it go and I work in silence while he stares out the window. My shoulders relax. The pen scratches. man woman woman man
"Of course," Shame says incidentally, "the reason you kept choosing multiple words has nothing to do with your conflictedness about rendering our gender roles to aunera. It's because you failed to realize we have different language markers for 'person or thing outside our periphery/in the background' and 'person or thing we are currently interacting with.' Your use of male and female probably has more to do with your attempt to make sense of the emotional distance implied by those markers."
I gape at him. That's the only reason I see his amusement before he veils it.
"Curse it all!" I say and throw up my hands. "Now what do I do?"
Naturally, he doesn't feel the need to answer that one.
Stardancer Home.
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haikujaguar) wrote,
