The first part of this study offers a synoptic overview of Alfonso de la Torre’s selective engagement with Maimonidean philosophy in the first part of his Visión Deleitable. Our analysis is complemented with some comparative notes on the reception of Maimonides’s thought in late medieval Spain. Visión Deleitabl e’s fate will be examined in comparison to two other 15th century works of Jewish or converso authorship that also broached the Guide for the Perplexed for the benefit of Christian readers: the (...) Old Spanish translation of Maimonides’s Guide by Pedro de Toledo and Moshe Arragel’s commentary on his Bible translation for the Christian Master of Calatrava, don Luis de Guzmán. (shrink)

Resumen: El corpus, siendo una herramienta eficaz, se está empleando en múltiples ámbitos, entre los que se encuentran los estudios de traducción. Sin embargo, dicho recurso no se utiliza con mucha frecuencia en las investigaciones traductológicas cuando una de las lenguas en cuestión es chino clásico (la lengua escrita empleada antiguamente en China), y autores que sí hacen estas investigaciones suelen no mencionar los pasos a seguir cuando se trata un corpus paralelo ad hoc. El objetivo del presente artículo es (...) presentar cómo se elabora un corpus paralelo chino clásico-español tomando como ejemplo la novela histórica Romance de los Tres Reinos y sus traducciones al español. Para ello, hemos descrito la problemática de creación y explotación de este tipo de corpus, siguiendo el orden de las fases del proceso. Resulta que algunas fases del proceso son universales, mientras que otras son propias de lenguas clásicas y de la combinación lingüística chino-otra lengua, en cuyo caso sí faltan aplicaciones eficaces. Con el trabajo, esperamos deparar información a los estudiosos que quieran realizar y profundizar las investigaciones basadas en corpus paralelo y en las obras clásicas de China. Abstract: The corpus, being an effective tool, is utilized in multiple fields. One of them is the Translation. However, this resource isn´t used frequently in translation studies when one of the languages in question is classical chinese (written language used anciently in China). And when it comes to an ad hoc parallel corpus, the steps of how to create it are usually omitted by researchers who make such investigations. The objective of this article is to present how to elaborate a classic Chinese-Spanish parallel corpus taking as example the historic novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms and its two translations into Spanish. To reach the objective, we have described the problem of creation and exploitation of this type of corpus, following the order of the phases of the process. We’ve found that some of the phases are universal while other phases are unique for old languages and for the linguistic combination Chinese-other language. And in this latter case, there’s a lack of effective applications. With the current work, we hope to offer useful information to those scholars who are willing to carry out their own investigations based on self-built parallel corpus and at the same time related to the classic Chinese works. (shrink)

Resumen: En la historia de la recepción de Samuel Beckett en los países de habla no inglesa, la primera traducción de Comment c’est al castellano, realizada por José Emilio Pacheco en 1966, aparece como un hito aislado y deslumbrante. Esta traducción a partir del texto original en francés, hecha por el poeta mexicano cuando tenía 27 años, no tuvo una repercusión notable en su momento, a pesar de la audacia de la empresa y de la brillantez de la traducción. Sin (...) embargo, a raíz de la trayectoria de Pacheco como crítico, traductor y poeta de primera magnitud, se considera necesario hacer una evaluación en profundidad de este texto único. El objetivo de este artículo es el de analizar la versión de Pacheco del texto beckettiano por medio de un acercamiento al contexto histórico y a los elementos propios de su bagaje cultural que el poeta aporta a la elaboración de su traducción. Se trata, en definitiva, de explicar cómo se lee a Beckett en español por medio de Pacheco.: The first translation into Spanish of Samuel Beckett’s Comment c’est, by José Emilio Pacheco, Cómo es, stands out as a dazzling and unprecedented landmark in the history of the reception of the Irish author in non-English-speaking countries. In his translation the 27-year-old Mexican poet took the French original version as his main source but, despite its daring quality and the brilliance of the text rendered into Spanish, it had little impact in the cultural atmosphere of its day. In light of Pacheco’s standing in the world of letters as a first-rank critic, translator and poet, it is deemed necessary a reassessment of this unique text. The aim of this article is to analyze Pacheco’s translation of Samuel Beckett’s novel; for this purpose, the historical context and the personal elements that the poet incorporated from his personal background into his version of Comment c’est will be studied in detail. All in all, the final objective of this research is to explain how Beckett is read in Spanish through Pacheco’s version. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:When an Arab Laughs in Toledo: Cervantes’s Interpellation of Early Modern Spanish OrientalismE. C. Graf (bio)My purpose has been to place in the plaza of our republic a game table which everyone can approach to entertain themselves without fear of being harmed by the rods; by which I mean without harm to spirit or body, because honest and agreeable exercises are always more likely to do good than (...) harm.—Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, Prologue to Novelas ejemplares [my translation]We are engaged in a technical enterprise at the species scale.—Jacques Lacan, “L’agressivité en psychanalyse” [my translation]While I was all intent on watching him, he looked at me, and with his hands he spread his chest and said: “See how I split myself!”!—Dante Alighieri, Inferno 28.28–30 Click for larger view View full resolutionFigure 1.Sandro Botticelli, The Virgin and Child (c. 1490). Courtesy of the Fogg Art Museum, Harvard University; ©1999 President and Fellows of Harvard College. Click for larger view View full resolutionFigure 2.Salvador Dalí, Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a Pomegranate One Second Before Awakening (1941). Courtesy of Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid; ©1999 Artists' Rights Society (ARS), New York.For much of this century, Hispanists have labored in an effort to elevate Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra’s El ingenioso hidalgo don Quijote de la Mancha (1605, 1615) to the coveted status of the “first modern novel.” Today this kind of criticism may strike our postmodern sensibilities as a rather traditional enterprise, the kind more interested in establishing an elite hierarchy of literary tastes than in saying anything new about an author or text. For many, the study of literature is still an aesthetic beauty pageant in which “great books” like Laurence Sterne’s Tristram Shandy (1767) or Marie de la Vergne de La Fayette’s La princesse de Clèves (1678) are paraded across the stage in a contest to seduce the Western intelligentsia. 1 The postmodern student of literature may not have much concern for this age-old territorial contest, but she might be interested to learn that the fallout from Hispanism’s quest for the “first modern novel” has involved so much attention to, indeed complication of, Don Quixote, that the book now resembles more a postmodern text than an early modern one. At the turn of the century, we have been left with what Jorge Luis Borges would recognize as an “aleph”: an infinite ideological labyrinth that reflects and/or cannibalizes all forms, thereby escaping all attempts [End Page 68] to describe it. 2 Whatever we currently mean by “Cervantes” (an author, a collection of texts, an ideological construction, and so forth) carries with it an impressive range of critical responses. Cervantes has been labeled converso (Castro, Canavaggio), Christian humanist (Castro, Bataillon, Forcione, Herrero, Vilanova), disillusioned secularist (Lukács, Cascardi), precapitalist (Johnson), anti-essentialist (Wilson), anti-Eusebian (Presberg), Menippean (Bakhtin), feminist (El Saffar, Rabin, Cruz), sadist (Nabokov), ethnocentric imperialist (Mariscal), medieval (Gorfkle), homophobic (Martín), non-organicist Aristotelian (Read), and either discursively or actually homosexual (Combet, Rossi, Smith, Arrabal). This list is nowhere near complete, but the reader will grasp the robust effects of the plurality of perspectives on Cervantes.Each of these interpretations is valid to varying degrees within various contexts, but at present I am interested in reading Cervantes as the author of a multicultural manifesto on behalf of the Moriscos of Southern Spain. 3 Within the contexts of French Marxist philosopher Louis Althusser and Palestinian postcolonial literary critic Edward Said, materialist, postcolonial, and multicultural critiques of various forms of power and their ideologies can be seen as the fundamental propositions of Cervantes’s Don Quixote. 4 Cervantes’s ultimate orientation may perhaps be inescapably Eurocentric, but his responses to the European experience of the rise and expansion of an ethnocentric militaristic nation state are relatively centrifugal when compared to the attitudes of many of his contemporaries.In surveying some of the antihegemonic details of Cervantes’s novel, I am also interested in dispelling the popular myth of Don Quixote. Especially in the English-speaking world, and particularly in the United States, Don Quixote remains captive to a... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Day in the Life of a Spanish InterpreterGianna O'LearyThe good thing about Mondays is they almost guarantee I'll be able to sleep at least until 8 am. If I have a double shift, my supervisor will try to "un-zombie me" for the night as much as possible.I get out of my car and head to the three small offices that are the interpreter's dominion. It takes me (...) about ten minutes because the hospital is huge, and our offices are located on the other side of the building. One office is my supervisor's, the other is the sign language supervisor's, and the third is for all of us Spanish interpreters working today.My first hour is all about phones. I sit at the desk and open EPIC, the hospital software where doctors, nurses, therapists, and yes, interpreters, work with the rest of the staff. I listen to the first voicemail; it's nothing unusual. It's from a mom who needs a follow-up appointment with Neurology. I call Mom back (at Children's, all our clients' parents are "Mom" and "Dad," they seem to like it, and I never heard a complaint about it). Her daughter has a seizure disorder, and she's due for a followup. They need to do it because the girl is growing, and she is outgrowing her Keppra medication; the doctor will probably increase the dose. They will also do an EEG to make sure her seizure activity is under control.I continue picking up the phone, listening to messages, calling people back, and documenting the messages that were not answered. Other interpreters will take them later and try to call them again. In the meantime, when nobody answers, I translate a few of the forms for the Autism clinic. Their patients are usually two to three years old, and moms are usually worried they have not talked yet. Usually, when asked what they want for their child, their answer is for them to talk and act like normal children. If you work at a children's hospital, it's a very common goal.My first appointment of the day is with the ENT (ears, nose, and throat) clinic. I go to the clinic's virtual space and see the patient has not arrived. Five minutes later, there is no sign of him, so I call them. Mom forgot about the appointment, and she is very apologetic. We reschedule it and I let ENT know. Then, I send a message to the hospital interpreter to ask if they need help. "Yes, please!" Someone just asked them to go help with rounds. Can I go?"Sure! Send me the name and number of the room."I am glad to have this little app on my phone, and that we text more than anything when we need help. It helps me keep everything on track. I have an anxiety disorder so severe that when I get anxious (and work always makes me anxious), my brain imitates symptoms of ADHD. I do not have ADHD per se, but if I think I am making a mistake, that I am not learning fast enough, or, that lives could be in danger (like, for example, in a hospital), my thoughts race, and it is very hard for me to focus on anything. For functionality purposes, I suffer from ADHD about 70% of the time I'm at work.This little app can be my personal hell. If I am interpreting for a doctor and the pager goes off, my mind will not rest. My anxiety takes over. What if it's urgent? What if someone—not only someone—but a child, is dying? If I haven't checked my messages and the pager is going off, my mind is, too. It has been almost two years since I started this job, and so far, nobody has died during my service, so my brain understands it may be ok to relax a little. In the end, anxiety is anxiety, and it will get you. It will find something to worry about. Anxiety shines with creativity and thrives in a high-paced... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:From Linguistic Bridge Builder to Aspiring PhysicianManuel PatiñoI have been formally working as a medical interpreter for 2.5 years, but I have been closing linguistic bridges for as long as I can remember. My parents are from Colombia, and they immigrated to Boston in the late nineties, where I was born some years later. As the oldest son born in the US, I grew up as the only fluent (...) English speaker at home. This meant that I was the first person my [End Page 161] parents would turn to for any help with the language—doing taxes, filling out legal paperwork, or emailing their bosses. They would also turn to me to learn more about and understand their chronic medical conditions outside of the hospital.I remember coming home from school one day in 8th grade to my dad asking me: "¿Manu, me ayudas a traducir estos resultados?" He was pondering his recent lumbar spine MRI report and asked me to help him translate and interpret the medical jargon, and I gladly agreed. However, my fourteen-year-old brain drew a blank when thinking about how to translate "herniated discs" and "pinched nerve." I turned and gave my dad a fragmented Spanish translation of the MRI report, to which he nodded for some portions, stared blankly for others, and finally thanked me with a warmness that could not mask his confusion. It pained me to know that I wasn't able to help my dad understand what had been causing him severe pain in the previous months.Growing up, experiences like these lit a fire under me and fueled my desire to pursue a career in medicine so I could one day give my parents the care they deserved. In college, I took my premedical coursework with the intention of taking a couple of years before medical school to work and save up money. I wasn't sure what I would do for my gap years until my mom took an online medical interpreting course during my junior year. At the time, she worked as a patient transporter, and decided to take this course to improve her English. Since I was doing remote schooling during the pandemic, I spent many hours at home helping her prepare for her weekly assessments. By learning about the medical and sociocultural skills that interpreters must have to effectively serve patients, I became interested in diving into the interpreting world myself. In particular, I was drawn to how crucial it is for interpreters to not only overcome linguistic barriers, but also to navigate social and cultural disconnects between Western medical practices and those of Latin America.Motivated to learn more, I took the same online course in Spring of 2021 and absolutely loved it. At several points, I thought to myself: "Why hadn't I thought about medical interpreting sooner?" For me, it was the perfect combination of all my interests: using my bilingualism on a daily basis, learning in a medical setting, and serving my local Hispanic communities. After finishing the course, I cold-emailed the Head of Interpreting at my university's local hospital to see if they had any perdiem positions available. Luckily, they did! After two months of interpreting exams, paperwork, and onboarding, I was given a shiny new badge that read: "Manuel Patiño, Interpreter I."I still remember my first appointment as an official interpreter. It was for a young man—let's call him Juan—looking to freeze his sperm in anticipation of radioactive treatment for thyroid cancer. I had arrived a couple of minutes late to the waiting room since it was my first time going to the radiology-oncology department. When I introduced myself to Juan, his face lit up as if we'd known each other for years. He expressed how uneasy he was feeling at the prospect of going through this appointment with his limited English, and thanked me many times for my presence. Though I don't remember the specifics of the appointment, I often think back to Juan's beaming face upon seeing me and the faith and trust he had in me to be his linguistic bridge... (shrink)

RESUMEN En este documento se presenta la traducción al español de la obra de teatro A lover of animals, escrita hace 120 años por Henry Stephens Salt, intelectual inglés activista por el trato justo hacia los humanos y los animales. Se introducen elementos que permiten al lector acercarse a la discusión planteada en la obra y se enfatiza en el personaje Claud Kersterman, médico y vivisector que expone una serie de ideas sobre la medicina, la ciencia y el valor de (...) los animales que se pueden apreciar en la actualidad. Finalmente, se resalta el valor que la literatura teatral puede tener para analizar discusiones como las que suscita el trato hacia los animales en contextos generales o particulares como el de la vivisección. ABSTRACT This document presents the Spanish translation of the play A lover of animals, written 120 years ago by Henry Stephens Salt, an English intellectual activist in favor of humans and animals being treated fairly. Elements are introduced which allow the reader to understand the discussion which is set out in the play. Emphasis is placed on the character of Claud Kersterman, a doctor and vivisector who states a series of ideas on medicine, science and the importance of animals, which can be appreciated nowadays. Finally, it is highlighted the significance that theatre literature can have to analyze discussions such as the ones given rise to by the way animals are treated in general or specific contexts such as vivisection. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Seeing Through Zen: Encounter, Transformation, and Genealogy in Chinese Chan BuddhismAlbert WelterSeeing Through Zen: Encounter, Transformation, and Genealogy in Chinese Chan Buddhism. By John R. McRae. Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 2003. Pp. xx + 204.The field of Chan and Zen studies has been in transformation in recent decades, as an increasing number of scholars have begun to challenge the accepted story of Chan's (...) rise and dissemination. In the process, a disjuncture has developed between how scholars have come to view Chan narrative as mythos rooted in the circumstances of Chan's development, and how it is still depicted in many textbooks and popular publications on Zen. Teachers aware of this gap have been at a loss when looking for new texts to supplant the old ones and give a more accurate view of Chan, its history, and its development. Aside from the compelling sway that Chan and Zen narratives have over the popular understanding, part of the difficulty is that the field is still in transformation. While scholars are altering, sometimes radically, perceptions and assumptions about how Chan developed, this process is ongoing. And while the picture is growing clearer, a full consensus has not yet emerged.Into the breach a new book has come along: Seeing Through Zen: Encounter, Transformation, and Genealogy in Chinese Chan Buddhism, by John R. McRae. McRae's name will certainly be recognizable to all who work in the field of Chan and Zen studies. Along with Bernard Faure, Professor McRae pioneered the study of the previously maligned, so-called "Northern School" in the West (The Northern School and the Formation of Early Ch'an Buddhism), utilizing to full advantage the scholarship of the doyenne of twentieth-century Zen studies, Yanagida Seizan. [End Page 355] Through a series of articles, McRae has contributed greatly to emerging perspectives on Chan. The current volume under review may be taken as McRae's current observations on the subject of Chinese Chan, based on his own recent research and that of others.The chapters that constitute Seeing Through Zen were first prepared in Spanish translation for presentation at the Templo Zen Luz Serena in Valencia, Spain. The expected readership includes three groups: "Zen and other Buddhist practitioners; students and scholars of Chinese religions, Buddhist studies, and related fields; and a general audience interested in Asian religions and human culture" (p. xi). While some of the propositions in the book will, by design, provoke healthy debate among scholars, the primary purpose for this book as I see it is as a classroom text, either at universities or for temple instruction for practitioners interested in current scholarly assessments of their religion (according to the author, many of the chapters were the basis for presentations to various groups of Chan and Zen practitioners).Seeing Through Zen comprises six chapters: "Looking at Lineage: A Fresh Perspective on Chan Buddhism," "Beginnings: Differentiating/Connecting Bodhidharma and the East Mountain Teaching," "Metropolitan Chan: Imperial Patronage and the Chan Style," "The Riddle of Encounter Dialogue: Who, What, When, and Where?" "Zen and the Art of Fund-Raising: Religious Vitality and Institutional Dominance in the Song Dynasty," and "Climax Paradigm: Cultural Polarities and Patterns of Self-Cultivation in Song-Dynasty Chan." In addition to the back matter-"Notes," "Character Glossary," "Bibliography," and "Index"-the front matter includes a "Preface," "Conventions," and a section titled "McRae's Rules of Zen Studies." These "rules of Zen"-(1) It's not true, and therefore it's more important; (2) Lineage assertions are as wrong as they are strong; (3) Precision implies inaccuracy; and (4) Romanticism breeds cynicism (pp. xix-xx)-with accompanying explanations, provide an accessible orientation to McRae's approach and touchstones that are frequently returned to in the materials introduced in the following chapters.I have two reactions to Seeing Through Zen, one as a teacher and one as a scholar. For the teacher, Seeing Through Zen represents a welcome addition indeed! I look forward to using it in my classes, and I'm sure others will as well. Written in a lively, engaging style, it is sophisticated in its analysis and creative in drawing on analogies from research... (shrink)

The objective of the study was to translate and validate the COVID Stress Scales into Spanish in Peru. Around 1,424 people, selected through a non-probabilistic sampling, participated in the study. Factor analysis confirmed an initial six-dimensional factorial structure of the CSS-36. Reliability by internal consistency was good for the dimensions of fear of danger, socioeconomic consequences, xenophobia, fear of contamination, traumatic stress, and compulsive control. In addition, the factorial structure of scale has been shown be strictly invariant for both (...) males and females. The Spanish version of the CSS-36 has evidence of validity, reliability, and invariance to measure COVID-19 stress in a Peruvian sample. (shrink)

In 1754 Véron Duverger de Forbonnais published the two books of his Élemens du Commerce which, as the Avertissement stated, collected together some of the chapters the author had written for the Encyclopédie. The second edition was published in the same year with ‘quelques légères additions’. In 1765, Carlos Lemaur, a French engineer who worked in Spain from 1750 until 1785, translated the text into Spanish. The probable reason for the translation was the importance that Forbonnais attributed to the (...) construction of roads and infrastructure that enabled improved communication between the markets and an increased distribution of money to the small cities located far from big centres. The translator worked as an engineer in a number of remarkable constructions designed to enhance logistics in Spain, and shared Forbonnais’ perspective on Enlightenment principles. My analysis will focus on the translation strategies adopted by Lemaur, and on the adaptation of the source text to the target culture, following the approach taken by Theo Hermans. I will examine the equivalence between the source text and the translation, which was the result of the functionality and dynamism of the translator's technique. (shrink)

El artículo que sigue fue publicado originalmente con el título "Causation" en el Journal of Philosophy 70.17 : 556-567, y luego reimpreso en Lewis, D. Philosophical Papers. Vol. II. Oxford:Oxford University Press, 1986. 159-172. Esta traducción se publica conla autorización del Journal of Philosophy y de Oxford University Press.Querría agradecer aquí a Santiago Erpen, María José García Encinas,Diego Morales y Carolina Sartorio por diversos comentarios y sugerencias que me han permitido, espero, mejorar la traducción.

"A Note On Anger," in The Politics of Reality: Essays in Feminist Theory (Trumansburg, NY: The Crossing Press, 1983), has been translated into Spanish by Maria Lugones for circulation in la Asociacion Argentina de Mujeres en Filosofia. See the links below for the original book.

By comparing modern translations of an Old Testament text, an interpreter can identify points at which the Hebrew text is difficult to render into English and will also discover clues to the way the text should be understood.

Discursos de Machiaueli (Medina del Campo, 1552 & 1555) is Juan Lorenzo Ottevanti's Spanish translation of Niccolò Machiavelli's Discourses on Livy. This is the first critical edition of this text, whose aim is to reproduce not Machiavelli's but the translator's intention, thereby allowing scholars to examine the modes in which Machiavelli's political and military thought was made intelligible to Spaniards in the early modern period. In his Introduction, Howard demonstrates that its original publication engaged in fascinating ways the ongoing (...) Spanish imperial project in both the European and American contexts. (shrink)

"The Problem That Has No Name," in The Politics of Reality: Essays in Feminist Theory (Trumansburg, NY: The Crossing Press, 1983), has been translated into Spanish by Maria Lugones for circulation in la Asociacion Argentina de Mujeres en Filosofia. See the links below for the original book.

Each one of the five books authored or co-authored by Frans van Eemeren which have so far been translated into Spanish clearly fulfills a different role. Following the chronological order, we first have Speech Acts in Argumentative Discussions (van Eemeren and Grootendorst 1984; Spanish translation 2013), a book that contains the theoretical spadework in the field of pragmatics on which the whole edifice of pragma-dialectics is erected. Then follows Argumentation, Communication, and Fallacies (van Eemeren and Grootendorst 1992; (...) class='Hi'>Spanish translation 2002, 22007), which is the first full presentation of the Standard Theory of Pragma-Dialectics complete with its explanation of fallacies as violations of the rules of critical discussion. In the third place comes my favourite book—Argumentation: Analysis, Evaluation, Presentation (van Eemeren, Grootendorst, and Snoeck Henkemans 2002; Spanish translation, 2006)—a rare combination of sophisticated theory (again, the Standard Theory) tersely an. (shrink)

Resumen: El corpus, siendo una herramienta eficaz, se está empleando en múltiples ámbitos, entre los que se encuentran los estudios de traducción. Sin embargo, dicho recurso no se utiliza con mucha frecuencia en las investigaciones traductológicas cuando una de las lenguas en cuestión es chino clásico (la lengua escrita empleada antiguamente en China), y autores que sí hacen estas investigaciones suelen no mencionar los pasos a seguir cuando se trata un corpus paralelo ad hoc. El objetivo del presente artículo es (...) presentar cómo se elabora un corpus paralelo chino clásico-español tomando como ejemplo la novela histórica Romance de los Tres Reinos y sus traducciones al español. Para ello, hemos descrito la problemática de creación y explotación de este tipo de corpus, siguiendo el orden de las fases del proceso. Resulta que algunas fases del proceso son universales, mientras que otras son propias de lenguas clásicas y de la combinación lingüística chino-otra lengua, en cuyo caso sí faltan aplicaciones eficaces. Con el trabajo, esperamos deparar información a los estudiosos que quieran realizar y profundizar las investigaciones basadas en corpus paralelo y en las obras clásicas de China. Abstract: The corpus, being an effective tool, is utilized in multiple fields. One of them is the Translation. However, this resource isn´t used frequently in translation studies when one of the languages in question is classical chinese (written language used anciently in China). And when it comes to an ad hoc parallel corpus, the steps of how to create it are usually omitted by researchers who make such investigations. The objective of this article is to present how to elaborate a classic Chinese-Spanish parallel corpus taking as example the historic novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms and its two translations into Spanish. To reach the objective, we have described the problem of creation and exploitation of this type of corpus, following the order of the phases of the process. We’ve found that some of the phases are universal while other phases are unique for old languages and for the linguistic combination Chinese-other language. And in this latter case, there’s a lack of effective applications. With the current work, we hope to offer useful information to those scholars who are willing to carry out their own investigations based on self-built parallel corpus and at the same time related to the classic Chinese works. (shrink)

A theory can be an explanation of a piece of the world. A theory of law is intended to be an explanation of that phenomenon of social communication which we call Law. But, Raffaele De Giorgi, perhaps the person responsible for the introduction of luhmannian theory in Argentina, (jointly with Torres Nafarrate in Mexico in translating Luhmann’s work to Spanish), asked: What is a theory of society? What is the “Law of society”? And answered: Can we discuss this?, hands (...) managed by hands, nothing different from a prostheses. According to De Giorgi we are sure that the themes that we use as objects or objects that we use as themes, are our construction, we think that we turn around ourselves, while we continue rotating around the vacuum. It is a paradox, or another paradox: ¿Is it possible to get out or get rid of these paradoxes? Logic does not help us. Logic, according to Luhmann, can only see to the fact that some expressions, with unavailable truths, are in contradiction with other expressions, the problem cannot be resolved us- ing logical operations. With the help of Gegenparadoxierungen (against-par- adox), systemic therapy is the alternative where the problem can be toler- ated. And, according to Luhmann, the placement of the paradox should be conducted in a more or less skilled, successful, or useful way to break the logjam.A creative use of paradoxes, especially legal ones, allows us to observe how Luhmann’s theory has impacted existing theories in ArgentinaThemes such as the paradoxality of law, or its being without foundation (and without beginning, the vacuity of their principles and the opacity of its distinctions and operations), filtered theories (like Carlos Cárcova or Ernesto Grün) and jurisprudential practices have started shifting things to what Bielefeld Professor has called “old European”Resumen:Una teoría puede ser una explicación de un sector del mundo. Una teoría del derecho pretende ser una explicación de ese fenómeno de comunicación social que llamamos derecho. Pero, Raffaele De Giorgi, tal vez uno de los máximos responsables de la introducción de la teoría de la luhmanniana en la Argentina (junto a Javier Torres Nafarrate de México, a través de su traducción de las obras de Luhmann al español), pregunta:¿Qué es una teoría de la sociedad? ¿Qué es el “Derecho de la sociedad”? y responde: es que podemos discutir esto?, manos que son manejadas por manos, nada diferente de una prótesis. Y agrega: estamos seguros de que los temas que usamos como objetos o los objetos que utilizamos como temas, son nuestra construcción, pensamos que nos volvemos sobre nosotros mismos, mientras continuamos girando alrededor del vacío.Es una paradoja, u otra paradoja. ¿Es posible salir, deshacerse de estas paradojas? La lógica no nos ayuda. La lógica dice Luhmann, sólo puede ver el hecho de que algunas expresiones, cuya verdad no está disponible, entran en contradicción con otras expresiones, para las cuales vale decir la misma cosa. Usando operaciones lógicas, el problema no puede ser resuelto. Como terapia sistémica la única que podemos ver, con el auxilio de la Gegenparadoxierungen (“contra-paradoja”), es un lugar menos doloroso en el que puede tolerarse el problema. Y recordó que, en cierto sentido, la colocación de la paradoja se realizará con más o menos éxito, esto es: de manera útil para desbloquear la situación.Y es el uso creativo de paradojas, especialmente uno que se hizo por el Derecho, el que nos permite observar cómo su teoría (la de Luhmann) se ha comenzado a reciclar en las teorías existentes en Argentina. Temas como el problema de la paradojalidad del Derecho, de su ser sin fundamentos y sin comienzo, de la vacuidad de sus principios y la opacidad de sus operaciones y distinciones, se filtran teorías (como las de Carlos Cárcova o Ernesto Grün) y prácticas de la jurisprudencia y puede verse que ha comenzado a remover ese tipo de pensamiento que el profesor de Bielefeld había llamado “vétero europeo”. (shrink)

With Spanish the third most widely spoken language in the world, one would expect more Spanish translations of important texts in American philosophy. Given the recent publication of a Spanish translation of The Public and Its Problems (1927), more people have access to John Dewey’s ideas about democracy than ever before. A broader readership might bring greater inclusivity to the existing debate over the significance of Dewey’s legacy for democratic theory. For the past few years, this (...) debate has raged almost exclusively between English-speaking scholars. Many have responded to the arguments of Richard Posner, the law professor and Circuit Court judge who delivered a scathing critique of Dewey’s legacy in his book Law, Pragmatism and Democracy (2003). Even if new readers of The Public and Its Problems fail to join the debate, they will at least be better equipped to evaluate Posner’s arguments with some appreciation for the object of his criticism. Hopefully they will come to acknowledge Dewey’s contribution as a vital thread in the tapestry of thought making up contemporary currents in democratic theory—currents that University of Toronto professor Frank Cunningham collectively labels “democratic pragmatism.” See his Theories of Democracy (Routledge, 2002). Ramon Del Castillo’s introduction to the translation captures the rich context of Dewey’s work on democratic theory. It places the book in the proper historical milieu, 1920s America at the time of the height and decline of American Progressivism. It also juxtaposes The Public and Its Problems against Lippmann’s two earlier works, Public Opinion (1922) and The Phantom Public (1925). (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Classical Rhetoric and the Promotion of the New WorldAndrew FitzmauriceFor many years historians have characterized the relation between the Old World and the New as an encounter in which the New was assimilated to the Old. There is a striking uniformity in the reasons given for this process. It is argued that in their “discovery” the Europeans encountered a world which was radically different from their own and for (...) which they did not possess the concepts to provide a true account. The only available descriptive tools were the categories of European experience. I shall argue that this historical characterization is unsupported by the first English representations of the New World. While it is true that the New World was represented in terms familiar to English audiences, the reason for this translation was dramatically different from that given by historians. The process of conversion to Old World values arises not from an epistemic shock but from the psychology of persuasion found in classical and humanist rhetoric.The purpose of this essay is not to superimpose a new model for under-standing the interaction between Europe and the New World but rather to contribute to recent challenges to precisely the idea that there was a collective European “response” to the New World. Historians who have stressed that the translation of the new into the familiar was imposed by the limits of the European episteme have based these interpretations largely upon accounts of the Spanish conquest, ethnography, and natural history. It has recently been stressed that Europeans differed on the basis of their nationality in their understanding of the issues raised by the conquest of the New World. 1 In this paper I shall argue that the genre of intellectual engagement was equally important to that understanding. [End Page 221]In his seminal lectures The Old World and the New J. H. Elliott compares the Europeans’ discovery of the New World with the response of the Chinese of the T’ang dynasty to the conquest of Nam Viet. Like the Europeans, the “minds and imaginations” of the Chinese “were preconditioned, so that they saw what they expected to see, and ignored or rejected those features of life in the southern lands for which they were mentally unprepared.” 2 Elliott is careful to observe that “what Europeans saw” on the “far side of the Atlantic” inevitably would “depend on the kind of Europeans involved.” 3 From the example of the Chinese experience of Nam Viet, however, he suggests that Europeans shared in a process through which the New World was assimilated, and he argues that this was epistemic: “it may well be that the human mind has an inherent need to fall back on the familiar object and the standard image, in order to come to terms with the shock of the unfamiliar.” 4Stephen Greenblatt has described this process as rhetorical. He stresses that Europeans possessed “many different and conflicting ways of seeing and describing the world” but claims that “the variety is not infinite,” arguing that Europeans shared “a lumbering, jerry built, but immensely powerful mimetic machinery.” 5 “Wonder,” he argues, is “the central figure in the initial European response to the New World, the decisive emotional and intellectual experience in the presence of radical difference.” 6 For Greenblatt the rhetorical process by which wonder reifies and appropriates the alien arises from an epistemic crisis; that is, wonder is provoked by the “presence of radical difference.” 7 [End Page 222]Underlying many of these accounts, as Mary Fuller has recently observed, is the sense of a New World outside language, a sense that “there is something self-evident, unambiguous, unified on the other side of language.” 8 Fuller explores the rhetoric of New World narratives by demonstrating that this referent is always absent and that the “other” is inside language.For the majority of authors writing in English about the New World, however, it is not the presence or absence of the “other” that produces their conversion of the alien to the familiar. Most Elizabethan and Jacobean tracts concerning the New World were promotional: their mode was persuasion. The tracts were written in terms of the classical and humanist art... (shrink)

It is common to find that so-called minority languages enjoy fewer (if any) diagnostic tools than the so-called majority languages. This has repercussions for the detection and proper assessment of children with Specific Language Impairment (SLI) brought up in these languages. With a view to remedy this situation for Catalan, I developed a sentence repetition task to assess grammatical maturity in school-age children; in current practice, Catalan-speaking children are assessed with tests translated from Spanish, with disregard of the fact (...) that the markers of SLI may differ substantially from one language to another, even between closely related languages. The test proposed here is inspired by SASIT [School-Age Sentence Imitation Test – English], designed for English by Marinis et al. ( 2011 ); some of the constructions targeted are challenging in a subset of languages, but not others, and are included because they are indeed affected in Catalan SLI; other constructions appear to be disrupted universally. The test involves canonical SVO sentences, sentences with third person accusative clitics (known to be problematic in Catalan SLI, but not in Spanish), passives, wh- interrogatives, subordinate clauses, subject and object relatives and conditionals. The test was administered to thirty typically developing 6- and 7-year-olds (as reported in Gavarró et al., 2012b ), and five children diagnosed with SLI (mean age 10;7). The results of the task were scored under two systems: (i) identical vs. non-identical repetition and (ii) identical, grammatical and ungrammatical repetition, with detail regarding the error type. The results for typically developing and SLI children showed differences between the groups: identical repetition was found in 88.9% of cases for typically developing children but only 48% for SLI children. Ungrammatical productions were higher for the SLI group, and so were grammatical but different repetitions, a trend which was found in every child individually. The results are compared to those available in the literature for similar languages and I discuss the impact of grammatical variation in language performance, in both typical and impaired development. (shrink)

Written in the 12th century in Arabic by a faithful Jewish man, "The Guide" is a work that explores the contradiction a very intelligent mind clearly saw between the tradition he was raised to believe inherently and the growing philosophy of Arabian and Western culture. In Maimonides' time, there was an emerging disparity between the Law and a new level of philosophical sophistication, which he attempts to bridge in this work, primarily through the use of metaphor, though also acknowledging this (...) method's limitations. "The Guide" follows the form of a three-volume letter to a student, which was quickly translated to Hebrew and spread throughout the known world and carefully read by Jews and non-Jewish philosophers alike well through the Middle Ages. This work was so successful in its organization and arguments that it has long been a classic of the Jewish religion and of the secular world of philosophy. (shrink)

continent. 2.1 (2012): 22–28. Jeroen Mettes burst onto the Dutch poetry scene twice. First, in 2005, when he became a strong presence on the nascent Dutch poetry blogosphere overnight as he embarked on his critical project Dichtersalfabet (Poet’s Alphabet). And again in 2011, when to great critical acclaim (and some bafflement) his complete writings were published – almost five years after his far too early death. 2005 was the year in which Dutch poetry blogging exploded. That year saw the foundation (...) of the influential, polemical, and populistically inclined weblog De Contrabas (The Double Bass), which became a strong force for internet poetry in Dutch in the years to follow. In the summer of that year, a lively debate raged in the aftermath of Bas Belleman’s article “ Doet poëzie er nu eindelijk toe ?” (“Does poetry finally matter now?”), on a blog specifically devoted to this question. Up to that point, the poetical debate in the Netherlands had largely been confined to literary reviews (which were often subsidized), having become mostly marginalized in more mainstream media, where poetry could be covered by only a small number of so-called authorities. As a result, literary debate had acquired a rather placid quality. Though a variety of camps with different aesthetics could be discerned, most poetical positions shared a general acceptance of poetry as a form of art somewhat apart from fundamental political concerns. Late modernists would pursue subtlety and density of reference. Others would insist poetry was best understood as a form of entertainment that should ideally be accessible and work well on the stage. Still others would insist that poetry is mostly a play with forms. Linguistically disruptive strategies were valued highly by some, but mostly for their aesthetic effect. Values of disinterested playfulness reigned supreme everywhere. Any idea that poetry could be a field in which one confronts politics and the world was decidedly marginal. This led to a climate in which most attempts at polemics were DOA, often based on far too superficial positioning and analysis. The greatest polemical debates were revolving around the question of whether poetry should be difficult or easy, with both camps defining their ideas of difficulty and accessibility in ways that were so utterly shallow as to make the entire point moot. Debates were performed, rather than engaged with. It was a postmodern hell of underarticulated poetics. Half-consciously, people were yearning for new forms of criticism that could put the oomph back into poetry. Weblogs provided for ways to explore debate directly outside of the clotted older channels of the reviews and the newspapers. Belleman’s essay and the resulting online activity had shown that there was a widespread eagerness to take poetry more seriously as a social art form. It was in this environment that Mettes started his remarkable project Dichtersalfabet . At that moment, Mettes was active mostly in academic circles, having become noted at Leiden University as a particularly gifted student of literary theory. Within the Netherlands, the field of literary theory has a very odd relationship to literature as it is practiced in the country. Academic theory tends to have a mostly international view and engage with international debates of cultural criticism, literary theory, and philosophy, with academics often publishing in English and attending conferences around the world. Literature itself however is much more concerned with domestic traditions. Consequently, in the Netherlands, there exists a language gap between academic theoretical practice (as it is studied in the literary theory departments) and literary practice (which, academically, gets studied in specialized departments of Dutch literature). The Dichtersalfabet can be seen as Mettes’s attempt to close this gap. It is also an attempt to bridge the divide between theory and practice, in which he could apply his theoretical knowledge in a very unorthodox and unacademic critical mode that moreover could reach far beyond the domain of conventional criticism. Mettes’s goal was to trace a diagonal through Dutch poetic culture, to “strangle” what he perceived to be its dominant oppressive traditions of agreeable irrelevance, in order to see whatever might be able to survive his critical assaults. But he could only do so by means of a very serious engagement with poetry itself. To this end, he would go systematically through the poetry bookshelf of the Verwijs bookshop (part of a mainstream chain of booksellers) in The Hague, buying one publication per blog item, starting from A and working his way through the alphabet, reading whatever he might encounter that way in the restaurant of the HEMA store (another big commercial chain in the country). He would subsequently write down his reading experiences, refraining however from trying to write a nuanced book review. Rather, he would write about anything that caught his attention and sparked his critical interest. This way of working would yield vast, at times somewhat rambling, dense, lively, and generally brilliant essays, in which he held no punches. He never hesitated to pull out his entire arsenal of concepts from the international theory traditions, while never degenerating into mere academic exercise and pointless intertextualities. The attempt was rather to live the poetry that he read, and to engage it with the full range of political, academic, cultural, and personal references that he had at his disposal—all that composed the individual named Jeroen Mettes as a reader. Often what he wrote would not be according to the standards of what we usually think of as a critical review of a book of poetry. Sometimes he would even be a little sloppy in his judgments of poets or representations of the books he read, for example by basing an entire essay on the blurb of a book rather than its poetry content. But what he did was always brilliant writing nonetheless—virtuoso riffs on poetic fragments randomly found within capitalist society, exposing an incisive and insistent poetical sensibility. Mettes read poetry for political reasons, to see whether poetry could offer him a way to deal with a political world he detested. The right-wing horrors of the Bush years, the Iraq war, and the turn of Dutch public opinion towards ever more conservative, narrow-minded, and xenophobic views alongside a complete failure of the political left to present any credible alternative, were weighing heavily on the times in which Mettes reported on his reading. Poetry was to measure this world, diagram it, to lay bare its inconsistencies and faults, to indicate where lines of flight might be found. Amid the ruins of a world wrecked by imperialist policies, corporate capitalism, and doctrinal neoliberalism it would have to show the possibility of a new community. And it was, through its rhythmical workings, to release the reading subject from his confinement to ideologically conditioned individuality and lead him into the immanent paradise of reading. The stakes were high. Much higher than anything Dutch poetry had seen for many years. Mettes’s blog was widely read from the start. His posts sparked lively debates. Some of these subsequently led to the publication of extensive essays on a few key poets in some literary journals, particularly Parmentier and the Flemish journal yang , for which Mettes would become a member of the editorial board, a few months after starting the Dichtersalfabet . This could have been the start of a brilliant career, but this was not to be. The initial manic energy that fueled the blog gradually subsided. The Alfabet was updated less and less regularly. Mettes sometimes just disappeared for many weeks, then suddenly returning with a brilliant essay. Until, on September 21, 2006, he posted his final blogpost, consisting of no text whatsoever. That night I learned from his mentor at Leiden University that he had committed suicide. Mettes and I had had some fruitful exchanges on poetry, rhythm, music, and form, mostly on the blogs, but also by email. Three weeks before his death was the last time I heard from him: a very sudden, uncharacteristically curt note saying “My old new sentence epic.” Attached to that message I found a DOC-file of a work so major that I felt intimidated. This was N30 , a text he had been working on for over five years. After his death, it took me a long time before I dared to read it in its entirety. In the meantime, the work of preparing the manuscript for publication was entrusted by his relatives to his colleagues at yang magazine. It took them a few years to brush up the text and to edit the Dichtersalfabet -blog (which, apart from the Alphabet project itself, incorporated many other fragments of political, polemical, and theoretical writing) into book form along with the essays. The result of this labor was finally published in 2011 as a two-book set, and Mettes burst onto the Dutch poetry scene for the second time. The work was widely reviewed, on blogs, in journals, magazines, and newspapers. Many critics who had not followed the blogs in 2005 showed themselves surprised, baffled even, by the intensity of Mettes’s critical writing. But for those who had read the blog, the main surprise was in the poetry. During Mettes’s lifetime, some of his poems had already been published in Parmentier . Although these were strong texts by themselves, in no way did they prepare readers for N30 . Nothing like it had been written in Dutch before. Instead, N30 explicitly follows the American tradition of Language Writing, directly referencing Ron Silliman and his concept of The New Sentence. However, it would seem that much of the poetical thinking around his use of this technique puts him closer to a writer such as Bruce Andrews. For Mettes, using non sequiturs as a unit of poetic construction was not only a way of reinventing formal textual construction, but it was another way of finding the fault lines in the social fabric. From the perspective of the Language tradition, one may put N30 somewhere between Silliman and Andrews. N30 shares an autobiographical element with Silliman’s New Sentence projects, and as in Andrews, there is a concern for mapping out social totality within text—what Mettes refers to as a “textual world civil war.” Again this shows a formal textual strategy for allowing the person “Jeroen Mettes” to be absorbed by the world, which here appears as a whirlwind of demotic and demonic chatter, full of violence, humor, intensity, beauty, disgust, sex, commerce, and strife. Influenced as it may by American precursors, Mettes’s tone and form end up quite different from his American counterparts, consistently referencing a world that is Dutch, all too Dutch, taking on the oppressive orderliness of Dutch society with its endemic penchant for consensus by introducing chaos into its daily life and laying bare its implicit aggressions. The work’s 31 chapters each have a different feel and rhythmical outline, but none of them follow a predetermined pattern. Rather, Mettes would consistently edit and reedit the text, randomly rewriting parts of it, as he explains in his poetical creed Politieke Poëzie (Political Poetry). N30 – referring to the 1999 antiglobalist protest in Seattle – was to be the first text of a trilogy. The work itself was written “in the mode of the present.” A second text was to be written in the mode of the future, and a third one, in the mode of the past, was going to be an epic poem about the Paris Commune, and to form an alternative poetic constitution for the European project. I still deeply regret that Jeroen Mettes never got to complete those projects, just as I would be very keen on knowing what he might have had to say about more recent political developments. Instead, in 2006, he remained stuck in the horrors of the present, that ended up consuming him completely. He left Dutch literature with some of its most piercing criticism and its most profoundly moving, exciting and powerful poetry. Excerpts from N30 Translated by Vincent W.J. van Gerven Oei from Jeroen Mettes. "N30." In N30+ . Amsterdam: De wereldbibliotheek, 2011. Published with permission of Uitgeverij Wereldbibliotheek, Amsterdam. Chapter 1 1999. A day is a space too. And another man, who had chained himself, had his ribs crushed, and a motor has driven over somebody’s legs. Dutch health care system spends ±145 million guilders per year on worriers. A spiderweb vibrates as I pass by. Randstad renovating. She slaps her bag against her ass: “Hurry up!” OPINION IS TRUE FRIENDSHIP Your skin. It doesn’t express anything. “But the use of the sword, that’s what I learned, and you’ll need nothing more for the moment.” Just try to interrogate a guy like that. Gullit in Sierra Leone. Codes silently lying all around. But that’s simply what belongs to “that it’s just allowed”: that sigh of “world” (a word expressing that the trees are now standing along the water like black men with white bags in their hair); that’s nothing else right? And you see how everything has to move, and first of all what cannot do so. Without Elysium and without savings, barbarians lashing out, horny for an enemy, staring across the water, staring into the air—staring to get out of it. “You’ve never showed me more than the mall,” she said. All those “dreams” in the end—and now? It was lying on the stairway, so I picked it up and took it upstairs. Chapter 3 “You know what?” Telecommunication. For love… I don’t really like that cheap cultural pessimism, but… The holy city is on pilgrimage in the earthly bodies of the faithful until the time of the heavenly kingdom has come. The end of an exhausting autumn day behind the computer, my eyes filled with tears of fatigue. KITCHEN / INSTALLATION / SPECIALIST. Network integration. In the sun, stretched out on a sheet. (…) I don’t believe what I’m reading, because I want to believe something else. An illusion? Suits me. There’s a variety of shapes and tastes… “So what?” you may think. 102 dalmatians can’t be wrong. But I want more, dear… A feel good movie. I’m smashing the burned body. So what? We continue to save the European civilization. What’s there to win? Plato with poets = Stalin without gulag? Ball against the crossbar. No wonder. She comes straight to her point. She’s standing in the kitchen eating an apple. (…) The godless Napoleon had used her as a stable and wanted to have her taken down. “Our” Rutger Hauer. Ready or not here I come. Psst… are you also wearing a string? Nobody understands our desire. Cliffs breaking the waves and shattering the sunset. I used to be a real romantic (as a poet). A typical fantasy used to be the one in which I brutally raped mother and daughter Seaver from the sitcom Growing Pains . Nevertheless you only contain bad words. Eyelashes. Automatic or manual? That your skin always in the afternoon. Integration. The air is empty. Too bad! Hand in hand on their lonely way. Alaska! Chapter 12 May 5, 2001 [10:00-10:30] A dust cloud on a hill. Globe. Indian (British) (tie) / pope. Damascus. Rape. We’re carrying the ayatollah’s portrait through the streets. At the moment the girl is mostly suede jacket with white ribbons on her sleeves. A small explosion flares up/impact. Camouflage. Close up. We’re analyzing the situation. He’s dead right? Dead dead. Dead. Everything without, these, and only with the body. Indices signal death. Dollar bills are printed in factories. Holes. Light patch. Globe in a box. Microphone. What’s the situation? Grey impact on a green hill (field?). The water is blue. He has no lips. Interns on the background with skirts that are too long. This is an example of a sonnet. An Islamic woman pushes against the door of an electronics shop. Arrows (percentages (prices)). Is this what awaits the American? Touch screen interface. The word, an island, can only be a sign in that situation. We pull up a chair, join in on the fun. On the shelves only books about computers. One glance in the distance is enough to lighten up a luna park in the distance. She’s really desperate, especially when she laughs. Click. Ah. Next. And now it’s raining, but that’s ok. Yellow stains sliding over the south. Shallow caves light: clothes, boots, electrical equipment. 45. 22:10. Nothing gives you the right to eat more than people starving to death. The Hague. Slam dunk. Traffic light. Two H’s, one L (standing for the L (little prick)). We’re happy to say something. Clouds, small suns, temperatures, cities. The truth is never an excuse. Yellow. Yellow. Green. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Green. Green. Yellow. Will you email me? Skeleton: “No.” Ex-nerds in brand-new and brightly red sport cars. $$$. I love. Shihab. Hooves in the sand. Skinny senior with over-sized sunglasses; old jockey (cap, trophy) smiling in slow motion. And there I am again, flashback, crying with my head in between my hands. Sometimes I’ve got the feeling that cannibals. Eyes: blue. Cancer. Why would I wait until tomorrow? Golden beams protruding from the lifted/lit earth. May 5, 2001 [11:30-12:45] You’ll remember this for the rest of your life. Graphs, diagrams. Bu$ine$$. Blue shirt, white collar, no neck (porn star). A name lights up. I’m hysteric. Will you join us? Letters falling in their words. Fingers set up a tent and start to dance. Young entrepreneurs from poor neighborhoods (read: black) guided by Microsoft. Kinda makes me happy, that sort of kitsch. A sense of exhaustion/impotence to see anything but the present. (…) Wouldn’t you like to? Orange explosion in an industrial zone. YOU’RE DOING THIS FOR AMNESTY INTERNATIONAL. Would you. A familiar face. Clouds and blossom. Sunflowers. Supermodels. Mountainous area in a rectangle: shades of brown, from dark to beige, more green toward the south. Tents and next to them (it’s all a blur) people. Plane. Stadium. Geometrical block of people. No, I ain’t crying. I don’t speak no more. I just want. Quote + photo. (Positive:) screaming crowd. Three-piece suit, seen from the back, before entering the arena. On the back: “Daddy abused me.” Oh, bummer. State of emergency has been declared and everyone has to cooperate. She’s cut her wrists. What we do know (…) is that there’s never been a unique word, an imperative name, nor will there ever be. [Click here for work that suits you.] Barefooted children are watching it (coherent pieces revelation of what’s lying below). Who knows how she’s changed during those two years. “Everything used to be better” + sigh. And here we are. An empty field of parquet. A city lying behind it. Explosion. Blue. A rain drop falling in my coffee. May 5, 2001 [14:30-15:30] A young Arafat on video speaking with raised finger. “I’m calling from my convertible.” Names on walls, victims, numbers… Tourists. Yellow. Yellow. “Your own child! Really, what kind of human are you?” I don’t want to hear it no more. A woman jumping out of the water in a yellow bikini against a background of fireworks and the Cheops pyramid. Thy sorrow shall become good fortune, thy complaints laudation. All planets will float and wander. Wo die Welt zum Bild wird, kommt das System (…) zur Herrschaft. It is something, but is it? May 5, 2001 [18:30-19:00] Iris. Leaves. NASDAQ. Open / and white and. For the one who’s doing nothing, just waiting. (…) NO DEFEAT is made entirely up of defeat -- since / the world it opens is always a place / formerly / unsuspected. October 2002. “Jeroen, I’m leaving for the cemetery, byeeee.” The rise of the middle class. My entire oeuvre is an ode to the. My entire head is a fight against the. God always demands what you cannot sacrifice. You may take that the easy way, but… “The state hasn’t made us, but we make the state” (Hitler). A stork exits the elevator. Skeletons of. Moscow. Helsinki. Palermo. Paris. Chapter 30 Like your paradises: nothing. United Desire, as only remaining superpower. And even though the sea is now calmer and the wind is blowing pleasantly in my face… Heart! Who determines whether a tradition is “alive”? The yellow leaf or the white branch? Mars. This sentence is a typical example. Most Dutch people are happy. No consolation. When I see a girl sitting at a table with a book, a notepad, a pen, a bottle of mineral water, her hand writing in the light—then I consider that one thing. “Presents,” “poetry,” “classics.” We are what we cannot make from ourselves. “Left”: mendicant orders, missionaries. Saint-Just: “A republic is founded on the destruction of its enemies.” She crosses the street with a banana peel between her fingers. (…) We chose our own wardens, torturers, it was us who called all this insanity upon ourselves, we created this nightmare… But “no”? Girl (just like a beach ball) talking rapid Spanish (Portuguese?) in a mobile phone. Do I have a chance now that her boyfriend is getting bold? CLIO, horny bitch. What else do you want? An old woman, between the doors of the C1000, is suddenly unable to go on; her husband stretches out his hand, speaking a few encouraging words. Selection from. Der Führer schenkt den Jüden ein Stadt. How can it reach us if we haven’t been already reached somehow? It doesn’t “speak.” No problem. Each word she uses is a small miracle, as if she doesn’t belong to it, to language, but wanders around with a pocket light looking for the exit; she’s never desperate (maybe a little nervous), lighting up heavy words from the inside. But indeed, we’re free. But the predicate is not an attribute, but an event, and the subject is not a subject, but a shell. That’s why also samurai, knights, and warriors raised the blossom as emblem: they knew how to die. Locked up in a baby carriage with a McDonald’s balloon. Blue helicopter, the blue sky. Whether you want to refer? The point is. How / Motherfucker can I sing a sad song / When I remember Zion? You’ll feel so miserable and worthless that you think: “If only I were dead!,” or: “Just put an end to it!” “So you’re an economist?” Her card—two little birds building a nest, her handwriting shaking—is still on the mantelpiece. Guevara: “No, a communist.” A straw fire, such was our life: rapidly it flared up, rapidly it passed. I’m fleeing, coming from nowhere. (…) Eazy-E drinking coffee with the American president. If I’d scream, would that be an event? Drown it: the cleaner it will rise up from the depths. No! The night, so fast… As if there’s something opened up in that face. Come on, we may not curse life. He shows me his methadone: “If you drink that all at once, you’ll die instantly.” The last one dictates how we should behave to deserve happiness. One shine / above the earth. “I want to go to Bosnia,” I said bluntly. I don’t even know the name of the current mayor. Let’s despise our success! “There is no future; this is the future. Hope is a weakness that we've overcome. We have found happiness!” Sun. Sushi. Volvo. I feel like a bomb about to explode at any moment. Makes a difference for the reconstruction right? The decor moves forward. Daughter of Nereus, you nymphs of the sea, and you Thetis, you should have kept his tired head above the waves! Alas! This sentence has been written wearing a green cap. I receive my orders from the future. A frog jumps into it. Her husband has turned the Intifada, which he follows daily on CCN, into his hobby, “to forget that he doesn’t have his driver’s license yet." Suddenly the sun slides over the crosswalk. Her (his?) foot is playing with the slipper under the table. Is this how I’m writing this book now? I’m not a fellow man. I hate you and I want to hurt you. These are my people. Their screaming doesn’t rise above the constantly wailing sirens which we've learned to ignore. My whole body became warm and suddenly started to tremble. Unfortunate is he who is standing on the threshold of the most beautiful time, but awaits a better one. Arafat’s “removal” is contrary to American interests. Jeep drives into boy. What you can do alone, you should do alone. A food gift from the people of the United States of America. Two seagulls. [...]. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Knowing the EastPatti M. MarxsenKnowing the East. By Paul Claudel. Translated by James Lawler. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2004. 136 pp.Fifty years after his death, Paul Claudel (1868–1955) is remembered for many things. Not only was he a major twentieth-century poet and playwright, he was an astute observer of Dutch, Spanish, and Japanese art. Not only was he the brother of sculptor Camille Claudel, he was (...) a diplomat who lived for nearly twenty years in Asia, including a stint as the French ambassador to Japan (1921–1927). When he was elected as a member of the Académie Française in 1946 at nearly 80 years of age he quipped, "For an academic, that is puberty." He died at 87, having lived large in two centuries and on three continents.Following an adolescence marked with indifference toward religion, Claudel experienced a profound conversion to Catholicism during a Christmas night service at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris at the age of 18. With Christianity at the center of his universe and under the influence of Symbolist poets Rimbaud and Mallarmé, he developed a response to the world that was at once poetic and spiritual. Through his poetry, plays, and essays, he insisted on a fundamental unity between matter and spirit, a harmonious and vast universe into which the human mind could enter. And, at least for him, the point of entry was the portal of the Church. He struggled at times, but never lost sight of his faith. For all this, he is often credited with the revival of French Catholicism in the wake of WWI. After all, if Paul Claudel could take religion seriously and find meaning in it, pourquoi pas the rest of us?The facts of his extraordinary biography form a peculiar background to the recent translation by James Lawler of Claudel's collection of prose poems titled Knowing [End Page 229] the East. First published in 1946 as Connaissance de l'est, these sixty-one texts were written between 1895 and 1905 during Claudel's first visits to China and Japan as a young vice-consul stationed in Shanghai. He was twenty-six and still finding his poetic voice. And though his stance in the world is decidedly Christian, the content of this intriguing work reveals an inner dialogue with Buddhist ideas of interconnection, harmony, the ongoing quest for a higher life condition, and the overwhelming impact of nature in the lives of mere humans.In "Pagoda," Claudel describes a seven-story Chinese pagoda as it "amplifies and multiplies the roof, exaggerates the horned corners that rise with an elegant surge, and turns their curves upward to the sky." This form that "does away with walls" and concentrates on the uplifting roof creates a space where "Buddha, Prince of Peace, dwells inside with all the gods." In this architecture he reads a structuring of physical and spiritual space, a kind of never ending upward movement divided into "the seven mystical heavens." The culminating effect is the heavenly achievement of the unknowable. And so, after going as far as he can go into the world of the spirit, he ends this prose poem with an abrupt return to temporal reality. "I have no more to say of the Pagoda. I do not know its name."Elsewhere, in "The Wanderer," he turns his sense of awe toward nature. "Every tree has its personality, every small beast its role, every voice its part in the symphony," he writes. "As one understands music, so I understand nature, like a detailed narrative of proper names; as my walk and the day advance, so does the elaboration of the doctrine." The "doctrine," it seems, is the idea of dependent origination, the interrelation of all life that springs from a single source. In the last line, he states, "I understand the world's harmony. When will I grasp its melody?"In "The Temple of Consciousness" Claudel climbs "the black rock's vertical wall, and only at this late afternoon hour do I know myself to be on the right track." Below, he observes golden rice fields. Ahead there is an "old stairway overlaid with hoary moss... (shrink)

Prelinguistic infants must find a way to isolate meaningful chunks from the continuous streams of speech that they hear. BootLex, a new model which uses distributional cues to build a lexicon, demonstrates how much can be accomplished using this single source of information. This conceptually simple probabilistic algorithm achieves significant segmentation results on various kinds of language corpora - English, Japanese, and Spanish; child- and adult-directed speech, and written texts; and several variations in coding structure - and reveals which (...) statistical characteristics of the input have an influence on segmentation performance. BootLex is then compared, quantitatively and qualitatively, with three other groups of computational models of the same infant segmentation process, paying particular attention to functional characteristics of the models and their similarity to human cognition. Commonalities and contrasts among the models are discussed, as well as their implications both for theories of the cognitive problem of segmentation itself, and for the general enterprise of computational cognitive modeling. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Are We There Yet?A Narrative of Firsthand Interpreter Experiences in the Medical Field and Insights to Aid Language Access ComplianceHilda Sanchez-HerreraMy Spanish interpreting journey began in 2008. In those days, very little training was available, and online studies were very new and rare. Early trainings involved out-of-town interpreter and translation conferences, reading the recently released Culturally and Linguistically Appropriate Services (CLAS) standards documents, and participating in the diversity (...) events at the hospital and in the community. Eventually, I did three different medical interpreter training programs, each teaching me something new and improving my skills. The first few years opened my eyes to what it meant for one to be trained, qualified, and certified. It has been a marvelous learning experience.Now, with sixteen years of experience and the vastness and richness of being an interpreter in various settings, I continue to learn to be flexible, patient, and courageous. I've also learned to be a teacher because clinical staff have one perspective of what interpreting is, and we have another. I've learned to be courageous because the field of Language Access is very demanding and involves encountering a lot of biases and judgmental perspectives. Language Access champions advocate throughout the nation so that those who are working in this field will have better working conditions. Collaborations started in the community, extending into social services, legal, and beyond.Interpreting sessions that had the most impact are many, but a few stand out, including a patient I assisted who had presumed Locked-In Syndrome and a domestic abuse female at a maternal-fetal appointment. I have had to explain to a family what it means to be brain dead and have interpreted for numerous palliative care sessions.The presumed Locked-In syndrome patient was quite the experience. I had recently started working on the floor at the hospital and was making my rounds to Spanish-speaking inpatients. One morning, I arrived just as the physician team was making their rounds. I listened to the briefing: a 42-year-old female had suffered a stroke. She could not speak and could not use her extremities. The team had done what they could and reached the conclusion that she was "locked-in" because she was aware but their neurological exams were inconclusive. I asked if they had used the video or phone interpreting services and they said yes but it was not fruitful. I offered to rule out a language barrier. They agreed.It was then that the patient began making great progress in her recovery. The team was amazed at the patient's reaction. She cried when she heard her language spoken. We established communication via a board and eye signals. Speech therapy came and they were able to assess her ability to speak and swallow. While she remained approximately 6 months in the hospital, it was not until the last two [End Page 154] months that she made great strides, and it was all due to language access. Eventually, she was transferred to another healthcare facility closer to home. I was overjoyed and wondered why they had not had this success earlier. It was later determined that the connections were not good, and the interpreter could not "see" what the patient was doing.The domestic violence female was an emotional one for me. I was scheduled to assist at two of her appointments that morning: one at maternal fetal and the other at ENT. Upon arrival, I greeted her and noticed her eyes were watery and her face seemed a little swollen, but I did not want to make her feel embarrassed, so I remained quiet. I accompanied her to the ENT appointment first. The doctor asked her questions, and she seemed nervous. Still no intervention. We finished and went to the maternal-fetal appointment. On the way to the office, I asked if she was ok. She began to cry and said in a soft tone, looking around, that her partner had hit her on the way to the clinic.I was shocked! I knew that permission was needed to share this information with the providers and that her safety was critical. She thought... (shrink)

Books reviewed:James D. G. Dunn and John W. Rogerson, Eerdmans Commentary on the BibleYairah Amit, Reading Biblical Narratives. Literary Criticism and the Hebrew BibleThomas L. Leclerc, Yahweh is Exalted in Justice: Solidarity and Conflict in IsaiahNuria Calduch‐Benages, Joan Ferrer, and Jan Liesen, La sabiduría del Escriba/Wisdom of the Scribe: Diplomatic Edition of the Syriac Version of the Book of Ben Sira according to Codex Ambrosianus, with Translations in Spanish and EnglishSidnie White Crawford and Leonard J. Greenspoon, The Book (...) of Esther in Modern ResearchPaolo Sacchi, The History of the Second Temple PeriodMary E. Mills, Biblical Morality. Moral Perspectives in Old Testament NarrativesRichard Swinburne, The Resurrection of God IncarnateH. Benedict Green, Matthew, Poet of the BeatitudesC. K. Barrett, On Paul. Essays on His Life, Work and Influence in the Early ChurchMichael D. Goulder, Paul and the Competing Mission in CorinthByron R. McCane, Roll Back the Stone: Death and Burial in the World of JesusMagnus Zetterholm, The Formation of Christianity in Antioch: A Social‐Scientific Approach to the Separation between Judaism and ChristianityDale V. Irvin and Scott W. Sunquist, History of the World Christian Movement, Volume I: Earliest Christianity to 1453Francis Clark, The ‘Gregorian’ Dialogues and the Origins of Benedictine MonasticismMichael Frassetto, The Year 1000: Religious and Social Response to the Turning of the First MillenniumPatrick Nold, Pope John XXII and his Franciscan Cardinal: Bertrand de la Tour and the Apostolic Poverty ControversyTeresa P. Reed, Shadows of Mary: Reading the Virgin Mary in Medieval TextsMichael D. Bailey, Battling Demons: Witchcraft, Heresy, and Reforma in the Late Middle AgesColm Lennon, An Irish Prisoner of Conscience of the Tudor Era: Archbishop Richard Creagh of Armagh, 1523–86Judith S. Graham, Puritan Family Life: The Diary of Samuel SewallCrawford Gribben, The Puritan Millennium. Literature and Theology, 1550‐1682M. Feingold, Jesuit Science And The Republic of LettersRobert Bireley, The Jesuits And The Thirty Years War: Kings, Courts, and ConfessorsTorkel Brekke, Makers of Modern Indian Religion in the Late Nineteenth CenturyP. Koslowski, The Concept of God, the Origin of the World, and the Image of the Human in the World ReligionsPeter Koslowski, The Origin and the Overcoming of Evil and Suffering in the World ReligionsJ. H. Laenen, Jewish Mysticism: An IntroductionBarbara Bowe, Biblical Foundations of Spirituality: Touching a Finger to the FlameThomas G. Weinandy and Daniel A. Keating, The Theology of St Cyril of Alexandria. A Critical AppreciationJames D. G. Dunn, Jesus Remembered: Christianity in the Making, Volume 1Daniel W. Hardy, Finding the Church: The Dynamic Truth of AnglicanismS. Mark Heim, The Depth of the Riches: A Trinitarian Theology of Religious EndsJohn Webster, Word and Church. Essays in Christian DogmaticsAlister E. McGrath, A Scientific Theology. Volume 1: NatureJames Alison, On Being LikedMichael J. Langford, A Liberal Theology for the Twenty‐First Century: A Passion for ReasonGuy Mansini and James G. Hart, Ethics and Theological Disclosures:The Thought of Robert SokolowskiMark A. Wrathall, Religion After MetaphysicsGerd Van Riel, Pleasure and the Good Life: Plato, Aristotle, and the NeoplatonistsNomy Arpaly, Unprincipled Virtue: An Inquiry into Moral AgencyGernot Böhme, Ethics in Context: The Art of Dealing with Serious QuestionsErica Appelros, God in the Act of Reference: Debating Religious Realism and Non‐RealismMark C. Murphy, Natural Law and Practical RationalityRichard Brian Davis, The Metaphysics of Theism and ModalityJ. Brower and K. Guilfoy, The Cambridge Companion to AbelardBrian Davies, Thomas Aquinas: Contemporary Philosophical PerspectivesStephen J. Pope, The Ethics of AquinasKevin White and Romanus Cessario, On The Virtues John CapreolusSteven Shakespeare, Kierkegaard, Language and the Reality of GodSusan M. Felch and Paul J. Contino, Bakhtin and Religion: A Feeling for FaithRuth Coates, Christianity in Bakhtin: God and the Exiled AuthorDavid Michael Levin, The Philosopher's Gaze: Modernity in the Shadows of EnlightenmentCharles Guignon and David R. Hiley, Richard RortyCelia E. Deane‐Drummond, Biology and Theology TodayOswaldo de Rivero, The Myth of Development: The Non‐Viable Economies of the 21st Century. (shrink)

This article discusses what could be called “the adventure of translating” Sein und Zeit in Spanish. It argues that every translation is an adventure, and particularly the translation of a philosophical text. A translation does not literally reproduce into another language what an author or philosopher affirms. The question is instead to express it in the most accurate form with the resources of the translator’s language, in such a way that the text may sound as if it was written (...) in the language to which it is to be translated. This article refers to the very long route that the author had to go over in order to make Sein und Zeit “speak” a good and clear Spanish. (shrink)

Resumen: El corpus, siendo una herramienta eficaz, se está empleando en múltiples ámbitos, entre los que se encuentran los estudios de traducción. Sin embargo, dicho recurso no se utiliza con mucha frecuencia en las investigaciones traductológicas cuando una de las lenguas en cuestión es chino clásico (la lengua escrita empleada antiguamente en China), y autores que sí hacen estas investigaciones suelen no mencionar los pasos a seguir cuando se trata un corpus paralelo ad hoc. El objetivo del presente artículo es (...) presentar cómo se elabora un corpus paralelo chino clásico-español tomando como ejemplo la novela histórica Romance de los Tres Reinos y sus traducciones al español. Para ello, hemos descrito la problemática de creación y explotación de este tipo de corpus, siguiendo el orden de las fases del proceso. Resulta que algunas fases del proceso son universales, mientras que otras son propias de lenguas clásicas y de la combinación lingüística chino-otra lengua, en cuyo caso sí faltan aplicaciones eficaces. Con el trabajo, esperamos deparar información a los estudiosos que quieran realizar y profundizar las investigaciones basadas en corpus paralelo y en las obras clásicas de China. Abstract: The corpus, being an effective tool, is utilized in multiple fields. One of them is the Translation. However, this resource isn´t used frequently in translation studies when one of the languages in question is classical chinese (written language used anciently in China). And when it comes to an ad hoc parallel corpus, the steps of how to create it are usually omitted by researchers who make such investigations. The objective of this article is to present how to elaborate a classic Chinese-Spanish parallel corpus taking as example the historic novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms and its two translations into Spanish. To reach the objective, we have described the problem of creation and exploitation of this type of corpus, following the order of the phases of the process. We’ve found that some of the phases are universal while other phases are unique for old languages and for the linguistic combination Chinese-other language. And in this latter case, there’s a lack of effective applications. With the current work, we hope to offer useful information to those scholars who are willing to carry out their own investigations based on self-built parallel corpus and at the same time related to the classic Chinese works. (shrink)

Resumen: El corpus, siendo una herramienta eficaz, se está empleando en múltiples ámbitos, entre los que se encuentran los estudios de traducción. Sin embargo, dicho recurso no se utiliza con mucha frecuencia en las investigaciones traductológicas cuando una de las lenguas en cuestión es chino clásico (la lengua escrita empleada antiguamente en China), y autores que sí hacen estas investigaciones suelen no mencionar los pasos a seguir cuando se trata un corpus paralelo ad hoc. El objetivo del presente artículo es (...) presentar cómo se elabora un corpus paralelo chino clásico-español tomando como ejemplo la novela histórica Romance de los Tres Reinos y sus traducciones al español. Para ello, hemos descrito la problemática de creación y explotación de este tipo de corpus, siguiendo el orden de las fases del proceso. Resulta que algunas fases del proceso son universales, mientras que otras son propias de lenguas clásicas y de la combinación lingüística chino-otra lengua, en cuyo caso sí faltan aplicaciones eficaces. Con el trabajo, esperamos deparar información a los estudiosos que quieran realizar y profundizar las investigaciones basadas en corpus paralelo y en las obras clásicas de China. Abstract: The corpus, being an effective tool, is utilized in multiple fields. One of them is the Translation. However, this resource isn´t used frequently in translation studies when one of the languages in question is classical chinese (written language used anciently in China). And when it comes to an ad hoc parallel corpus, the steps of how to create it are usually omitted by researchers who make such investigations. The objective of this article is to present how to elaborate a classic Chinese-Spanish parallel corpus taking as example the historic novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms and its two translations into Spanish. To reach the objective, we have described the problem of creation and exploitation of this type of corpus, following the order of the phases of the process. We’ve found that some of the phases are universal while other phases are unique for old languages and for the linguistic combination Chinese-other language. And in this latter case, there’s a lack of effective applications. With the current work, we hope to offer useful information to those scholars who are willing to carry out their own investigations based on self-built parallel corpus and at the same time related to the classic Chinese works. (shrink)

This work argues from a social-theoretical perspective for the view that every concept of 'gender' remains bound to reproduction. As every culture is interested in its continuity, it distinguishes individuals according to their assumed possible contribution to reproduction and so develops a fundamental dual classification. Subsequent gender categories are necessarily derived from this one. The conceptual and empirical arguments for this thesis are illustrated through an imagined dystopia. There I envision under what conditions a complete dissociation of the concepts 'sex' (...) and 'gender' from the old dual distinction would be possible and in what way a multiplicity of genders would be accomplished. (shrink)

continent. 1.2 (2011): 78-91. This article consists of three parts. First, I will review the major themes of Quentin Meillassoux’s After Finitude . Since some of my readers will have read this book and others not, I will try to strike a balance between clear summary and fresh critique. Second, I discuss an unpublished book by Meillassoux unfamiliar to all readers of this article, except those scant few that may have gone digging in the microfilm archives of the École normale (...) supérieure. The book in question is Meillassoux’s revised doctoral dissertation L’Inexistence divine (or The Divine Inexistence ), with its seemingly bizarre vision of a God who does not yet exist but might exist in the future. Without literally accepting this view, I will claim that it is philosophically interesting in ways that even a hardened sceptic might be able to appreciate. Third and finally, I will speculate on the possible future of Meillassoux’s speculative materialism itself. And here I mean its future development not by Meillassoux, but by those readers who might be inspired by his book. Plato could never have predicted the emergence of Aristotle’s philosophy, despite the obvious debt of the latter to the former. Nor could Descartes have predicted Spinoza and Leibniz, nor Kant the German Idealists, and neither could Husserl in 1901 have foreseen the later emergence of Heidegger. How are the works of interesting philosophers transformed by later thinkers of comparable importance? While it may seem that there are countless ways to do this, I think there are only two basic ways in which this happens: you can radicalize your predecessors, or you can reverse them. I will close this article with a few words about these two methods, and try to imagine how Meillassoux might be radicalized or reversed by some future admirer. My view is that the more important thinkers are, the easier they are to radicalize or reverse. This helps explain why the great philosophers of the West have so often appeared in clusters, succeeding one another at relatively brief intervals during periods of especial ferment. 1. After Finitude After Finitude is unusually short for such an influential book of philosophy: running to just 178 pages in the original French, and an even more compact 128 pages in the English version, despite the introduction of roughly eight pages of new material for the English edition. Rather than summarizing Meillassoux’s book in the order he intended, I will focus on six points that strike me as the pillars of his debut book. Along the way, I will offer a few criticisms as well. The first pillar of the book is Meillassoux’s own term “correlationism.”1 Although he introduces this term as the name for an enemy, it is striking that Meillassoux remains impressed by correlationism much more than his fellow speculative realists are. This continued appreciation for his great enemy influences the shape of his own ontology. Is there a world outside our thinking of it, or does the world consist entirely in being thought? Traditionally, this dispute between realism and idealism has been dismissed in continental philosophy as a “pseudo-problem,” in a strategy pioneered by Husserl and extended by Heidegger. We cannot be realists, since following Kant we have no direct access to things-in-themselves. But neither are we idealists, since the human being is always already outside itself, aiming at objects in intentional experience, deeply engaged with practical implements, or stationed in some particular world-disclosing mood. The centuries-old dispute between realism and idealism is dissolved by saying that we cannot think either real or ideal in isolation from the other. There is neither human without world nor world without human, but only a primordial correlation or rapport between the two. This is what “correlationism” means: philosophy trapped in a permanent meditation on the human-world correlate, trying to find the best model of the correlate: is it language, intentionality, embodiment, or some other form of correlation between human and world? Among other problems, this generates some friction between philosophy and the literal meaning of science. When cosmologists say that the universe originated 13.5 billion years ago, they do not mean “13.5 billion years ago for us ,” but literally 13.5 billion years ago, well before conscious life existed, and thus at a time when there was no such thing as a correlate. Meillassoux also coins the term “ancestrality” (10) for the reality that predated the correlate, and later expands this term to “dia-chronicity,” (112) to refer to events occurring after the extinction of human beings no less than to those occurring before we existed. Up to this point, Meillassoux’s focus on ancestral entities existing prior to consciousness might seem like a straightforward realist who wants to unmask correlationism as just another form of idealism. Yet Meillassoux also admires the correlationist maneuver, which can obviously be traced back to Kant. Unlike a thinker such as Whitehead, Meillassoux feels no nostalgia for the pre-critical realism that came before Kant: “we cannot but be heirs of Kantianism,” he says (29). What impresses Meillassoux about correlationism is something both simple and familiar. If we attempt to think a tree outside thought, this is itself a thought . Any form of realism which thinks it can simply and directly address the world the way it is fails to escape the correlational circle, since the attempt to think something outside of thought is itself nothing other than a thought, and thereby collapses back into the very human-world correlate that it pretends to escape. For Meillassoux this step, suggested by Kant but first refined by the ensuing figures of German Idealism, marks decisive forward progress in the history of philosophy that must not be abolished. Any attempt to break free from the correlate must first acknowledge its mighty intellectual power. Realist though he may seem, Meillassoux’s works are filled with praise of such figures as Fichte and Hegel, not of so-called “naïve realists.” It is also the case that for Meillassoux, not all correlationisms are the same. The second pillar of his book is a distinction between various positions that I have termed “Meillassoux’s Spectrum,” though of course he is never so immodest as to name it after himself. He distinguishes between at least six different possible positions, and perhaps we could add even subtler variations if we wished. But in its simplest form, Meillassoux’s Spectrum allows for just four basic outlooks on the question of realism vs. anti-realism. Three of these are easy to understand, since we have already been discussing them. At one extreme is so-called “naïve realism,” which holds that a world exists outside the mind, and that we can know this world. Meillassoux rejects this naïve realism as having been overthrown by Kant’s critical philosophy. At the other extreme is subjective idealism, in which nothing exists outside the mind. For to think a dog outside thought immediately turns it into a thought, and therefore there cannot be anything outside; the very notion is meaningless. In between these two is what we have called correlationism. And here comes a crucial moment for Meillassoux, since he distinguishes between the two forms of “weak” and “strong” correlationism, and chooses the strong form as the launching pad for his own philosophy. Weak correlationism is easy to explain, since we all know it from the philosophy of Kant. The things-in-themselves can be thought but not known. They certainly must exist, since there cannot be appearances without something that appears. And we can think about them, which idealism holds to be impossible. They are simply unknowable due to the finitude of human thought. Strong correlationism is the new position introduced by Meillassoux (though he sees it at work in numerous twentieth century thinkers), midway between weak correlationism and subjective idealism. The major difference between the three positions is as follows. Weak correlationism says: “The things-in-themselves exist, but we cannot know them.” The subjective idealist says: “This is a contradiction in terms, since when we think the things-in-themselves, we already turn them into thoughts.” But the strong correlationist says: “Just because ‘things-in-themselves’ is a meaningless notion does not mean that they cannot exist. No one has ever traveled to the world-in-itself and come back to make a report on it. Thus, the fact that we cannot think things-in-themselves without contradiction does not prove that they do not exist anyway. There may be things-in-themselves, we simply are not capable of thinking them without contradiction form within the correlational circle.” This step is crucial for Meillassoux, since strong correlationism is the position he attempts to radicalize into his own new standpoint: speculative materialism. As I see it, this step of the argument fails. Strong correlationism cannot avoid collapsing into subjective idealism, since the statements of the strong correlationist are rendered meaningless from within. All three of the other positions in the Spectrum make perfectly good sense even for those who disagree with them. The naïve realist says that things-in-themselves exist and we can know them; the meaning of this statement is clear. The weak correlationist can say that things-in-themselves exist but lie forever beyond our grasp; this too makes perfect sense, even though the German Idealists try to show a contradiction at work here. We can also understand the claim of the subjective idealist that to think anything outside thought turns it into a thought, and that for this reason we cannot think the unthought. The strong correlationist, alone among the four, speaks nonsense . This person says “I cannot think the unthought without turning it into a thought, and yet the unthought might exist anyway.” But notice that the final phrase “the unthought might exist anyway” is fruitless for this purpose. For we have already heard that to think any unthought turns it into a thought. But now the strong correlationist wants to do two incompatible things simultaneously with this unthought. On the one hand, he neutralizes the unthought by showing that it instantly changes into just another thought. But on the other hand, he wants to appeal to the unthought as a haunting residue that might exist outside thought, thereby undercutting the absolute status of the human-world correlate found in idealism. But this is impossible. If you accept the argument that thinking the unthought turns it into a thought, you cannot also add “but maybe there is something outside that prevents this conversion from being absolutely true,” because this “something outside” is immediately converted into nothing but a thought for us. In short, Meillassoux here seems to be offering a kind of Zen koan: his “strong correlationism” is reminiscent of the gateless gate, or the sound of one hand clapping, or the command to punch Hegel in the jaw when meeting him on the road. We cannot at the same time both destroy the realist challenge of the things-in-themselves in order to undercut realism and reintroduce that very realist sense in order to undercut idealism. In a world where everything is instantly converted into thought, we cannot claim that there might be something extra-mental anyway, because this “might be something” is itself converted into a thought by the same rules that condemned dogs, trees, and houses to the idealist prison. This brings us to the third pillar of Meillassoux’s argument, which is the key to all the rest: the necessity of contingency. His strategy is to transform our supposed ignorance of things-in-themselves into an absolute knowledge that they exist without reason, and that the laws of nature can change at any time for no reason at all. In this way the cautious agnosticism of Kantian philosophies is avoided, but so is the collapse of reality into thought as found in German Idealism. Meillassoux does try to prove the existence of things-in-themselves existing outside thought; he simply holds that they must be proven after passing through the rigors of the correlationist challenge, not just arbitrarily decreed to exist in the manner of naïve realism. As he puts it, “Everything could actually collapse: from trees to stars, from stars to laws, from physical laws to logical laws; and this not by virtue of some superior law whereby everything is destined to perish, but by virtue of the absence of any superior law capable of preserving anything, no matter what, from perishing” (53). If idealism thinks that the human-world correlate is absolute, for Meillassoux it is the facticity of the correlate that is absolute. He tries to show this with a nice brief dialogue between five separate characters (55-59) which is covered in detail in my forthcoming book,2 but which I will simplify here for reasons of time. In this simplified version, we first imagine a dogmatic realist arguing with a dogmatic idealist. The realist says that we can know the truth about the things-in-themselves; the idealist counters that we can only the truth about thought, since all statements about reality must be turned into statements concerning our thoughts about reality. Here the correlationist enters and proclaims that both of these positions are equally dogmatic. For although we have access to nothing but thoughts, we cannot be sure that these thoughts are all that exist; there could be a reality outside thought, there is simply no way to know for sure. And this latter position is the one that Meillassoux attempts to transform from an agnostic, skeptical point into an ontological claim about the contingency of everything. Consider it this way. How does the correlationist defeat the idealist? The idealist holds that the existence of anything outside thought is impossible. The correlationist, by contrast, holds that something might exist outside the human-world correlate. But this “something might” has to be an absolute possibility. It cannot mean that “something outside thought might exist for thought ,” because that is what the idealist already says. No, the correlationist must mean that something might exist outside thought quite independently of thought. In other words, the correlationist says that idealism might be wrong, and this means it is absolutely true that idealism might be wrong. Thus, correlationism is no longer just a skeptical position. It holds that all the possibilities of the world are absolute possibilities. We have absolute knowledge that any of the possibilities about the existence or non-existence of things-in-themselves might be true, and this means that correlationism flips into Meillassoux’s own position: speculative materialism. As Meillassoux sees it, there are only two options here. Option A is to absolutize the human-world correlate, which is what the idealist does: there absolutely cannot be anything outside thought. Option B, by contrast, is to absolutize the facticity of the correlate: its character of simply being given to us, without any inherent necessity. The correlationist cannot have it both ways by saying: “there absolutely might be something outside thought, yet maybe this is absolutely impossible.” In other words, once we escape dogmatism we can only be idealists or speculative materialists, not correlationists. The human-world correlate is merely a fact, not an absolute necessity. But this facticity itself cannot be merely factical: it must be absolute. Here Meillassoux coins the French neologism factualité , which has been suitably translated into the English neologism “factiality.” (7, 122-3) Factialty means that for everything that exists, it is absolutely possible that it might be otherwise, not just that we cannot know whether or not it might be otherwise. Just as Kant transformed philosophy into a meditation on the categories governing human finitude, Meillassoux wishes to turn philosophy into a meditation on the necessary conditions of factiality, which he calls “figures”—a new technical term for him. (80) One such figure is that the law of non-contradiction must be true, and for an unusual reason. Since everything is proven to be contingent, nothing that exists can be contradictory, for whatever is contradictory has no opposite into which it might be transformed, and thus contingency would be impossible.3 Another such figure is that there must be something rather than nothing: for since contingency exists, something must exist in order to be contingent. It is a daring high-wire act, one that sacrifices realism to the correlational circle in order to rebuild it from out of its own ashes. Some might conclude that the lack of reason in things is a byproduct of the ignorance of finite humans, Meillassoux is making precisely the opposite point. For in fact, the doctrine of finitude usually leads directly to belief in a hidden reason. The fact that it lies beyond human comprehension merely increases our belief in this arbitrarily chosen concealed ground. By defending anew the concept of absolute knowledge Meillassoux evacuates the world of everything hidden. The reason for things having no reason is not that the reason is hidden, but that no reason exists. Thus, even while insisting on the necessity of non-contradiction, he rejects the other Leibnizian principle: sufficient reason. Everything simply is what it is, in purely immanent form, without deeply hidden causes. Or as Meillassoux puts it: “There is nothing beneath or beyond the manifest gratuitousness of the given—nothing but the limitless and lawless power of its destruction, emergence, or persistence” (63).The world is a “hyper-chaos”(64). But this is not the same thing as flux. For the chaos of the world is such that stability might occur just as easily as constant, turbulent change. Let’s now digress a bit, and return to the question of ancestrality, which Meillassoux transforms later in the book into “dia-chronicity.” Correlationism holds that all talk of a world outside the correlate is immediately recuperated by the correlate. The phrase “13.5 billion years ago” becomes “13.5 billion years ago for us ,” and the phrase “the universe following the extinction of humans” becomes “the universe following the extinction of humans for humans .” But notice that whether we talk about the world before or after humans, in both cases it is time that is used to challenge the correlate. Meillassoux has no interest in challenges that might be posed by space. For example, what about a vase in a lonely country house that topples to the floor and smashes when no one is there to watch it? Isn’t this also a challenge to correlationism, no less than the Big Bang or the heat death of the universe long after humans have vanished? In an eight-page supplement to the English translation of After Finitude ,4 possibly in response to my own 2007 review of the French original,5 Meillassoux bluntly denies that space is of any relevance to the question. Spatial distance is a merely harmless challenge to the human-world correlate. After all, even though no one is there in the lonely country house to witness the shattering of the vase, we can say that had there been an observer , that observer would have witnessed the toppling and destruction of the vase. For this event still occurs in a world in which the human-world correlate already exists, whereas the diachronicity of events both before and after the existence of humans makes it impossible to say that had there been an observer they would have witnessed the Big Bang occurring in such and such a fashion. However, it seems to me that Meillassoux merely asserts that the temporal simultaneity of our existence with that of the vase in the lonely country house is enough to render it harmless. It is true that the house does not exist prior to the correlate, but nonetheless it exists outside the correlate, and that is enough to make the same challenge. It is difficult to see why the “had there been an observer” maneuver succeeds in the case of a vase in the countryside in April 2011 but fails in the case of the Big Bang. This is not just a matter of nitpicking Meillassoux’s argumentative style: the fact that he bases his argument on time has at least two important consequences for his position. For in the first place, even though Meillassoux insists that the laws of nature are absolutely contingent, this turns out to be true only in a temporal sense. That is to say, it is a paradoxical feature of Meillassoux’s philosophy that he does allow for the existence of laws of nature, and simply believes that they can change at any moment without reason. Within any given moment, laws of nature do exist. He never suggests that different parts of the universe can have different laws at the same time, nor does he have any interest in the laws of part/whole composition that take place within any given instant. Could it be the case that rather than being made of gold atoms, a small chunk of gold could be made of silver atoms, cotton, horses, or that this same small piece of gold could be made of gigantic vaults filled with even more gold? These are not topics that draw Meillassoux’s attention, since he is focused solely on how the laws of nature might change or endure from one moment to the next . Another implication for Meillassoux’s system is that his concept of things-in-themselves turns out to be to be inadequate. For when he proves that things-in-themselves can exist without humans, this turns out to be true only in a temporal sense as well. Namely, things-in-themselves existed ten billion years ago, and they will continue to exist after all humans have succeeded in exterminating themselves. However, being able to exist before our births and after our deaths is just one small part of what it means to be a thing-in-itself. The more important part is that even if a thing is sitting on a table right now, in front of me, even if I stroke it lovingly or press my face up against it directly, I am still dealing only with a phenomenal version of the thing; the thing-in-itself continues to withdraw from all access. Yet no such thing is acknowledged by Meillassoux. For him finitude is a disaster, and absolute knowledge is in fact possible. Meillassoux’s thing-in-itself exists in independence only of the human lifespan , not of human knowledge. The fifth pillar of Meillassoux’s argument is his use of Cantor’s transfinite mathematics to show that even if the laws of nature are contingent, they need not be unstable, and thus we cannot use the apparent stability of nature to disprove his metaphysics of absolute contingency. What Cantor showed is that there are different sizes of infinity, and that all these infinities cannot be totalized in a single infinite number of infinities. Meillassoux sees this as crucial, since it allows him to discredit any “probabilistic” argument against his theory. The probabilistic argument (as defended quite clearly by Jean-René Vernes)6 would say this: given that the laws of nature seem so stable, it it is extremely improbable that there is no hidden reason for their remaining so stable. As Meillassoux sees it, probability is of value only when we can index an accessible total of cases. These can even be infinite: for example, there are an infinite number of points where a rope can break when stretched tight, but this does not stop us from calculating probabilities for various sections of the rope to break. By contrast, there is no way to sum up the number of possible laws of nature. For here there is no way to totalize; we cannot stand outside of nature and calculate the possible number of laws so as to determine the probabilities that any one of them might change. Therefore, although we can speak of probability when dealing with intraworldly events such as elections, horse races, and coin-flips, we cannot use the words “probable” or “improbable” when describing alterations at the level of nature as a whole. Rather than commenting on the validity of this argument and its use of Cantor, let me simply note that it once again creates a dualistic ontology. We already saw that Meillassoux treats time differently from space. In analogous fashion, he now treats the level of world differently from that of intraworldly events. The emergence of worlds is purely contingent and virtual and governed by no probability at all, while events within the world necessarily follow laws (even if these laws can change at any moment without reason), and thus their probabilities can be calculated. It is a strategy deeply reminiscent of Badiou’s (2005) own dualism between the normal “state of the situation” and the rare and intermittent “event.” The sixth and final pillar of Meillassoux’s book can be dealt with briefly, since we have already touched on it elsewhere. It comes at the very beginning of the book, when Meillassoux says that we must revive the distinction between primary and secondary qualities, and that the primary qualities are the ones that can be mathematized. He admits that he has not yet published a proof of this idea, though in fact it is already known as one of his primary doctrines. And here we encounter the familiar problem with Meillassoux’s inadequate conception of things-in-themselves. “Primary qualities” refers to those qualities that a thing has independently of its relations with us or anything else. But if the primary qualities can be mathematized, this means that they are not entirely independent of us, since our knowledge can get right to the bottom of them. The mathematized qualities of things are independent of us only in Meillassoux’s sense that they will still have those qualities even when all humans are dead. But to repeat, autonomy from the human lifespan is not the same as autonomy from human access. Here once more Meillassoux is concerned only with independence from the human-world correlate across time, not in any given instant. 2. L’Inexistence divine In 1997, the same year in which he turned thirty years old, Meillassoux earned his doctorate at the École normale supériuere with a brazen dissertation entitled L’Inexistence divine ( The Divine Inexistence ). The work was substantially revised in 2003. But even then, with typical fastidiousness, Meillassoux decided that the work was not yet ready for press. It has now been scrapped in favor of some future, multi-volume work bearing the same title. While writing my book on Meillassoux for Edinburgh University Press, I was permitted to translate excerpts from this unpublished work for use as an appendix in my own book; in total, the appendix contains approximately twenty percent of Meillassoux’s 2003 manuscript, the first time any of it will be published in any language. Nonetheless, a portion of the argument was already tested in the article “Spectral Dilemma,” published in English in the journal Collapse (2008: 261-75). There the philosophical motives for the virtual God are already made clear. What troubles us most are early deaths, brutal deaths, deaths of especial injustice– the sorts of deaths in which the brutal twentieth century was so abundant. And here, neither the atheist nor the believer can help us. The atheist can offer nothing but a sad and cynical resignation when reflecting on the victims of these terrible crimes. The believer does little better, being unable to explain how God could have allowed such things to happen, due to the famous intractability of the problem of evil. The solution offered to this dilemma by Meillassoux is bold, and all the more so given that he emerges from such a deeply Leftist, materialist, and unreligious background. His solution is that God does not yet exist, and therefore is not blameworthy for these catastrophes. Given that everything is contingent in Meillassoux’s philosophy, this God and divine justice might never exist, but they can at least exist as an object of hope. Let’s begin by jumping to the end of L’Inexistence divine , where the alternatives are laid out so nicely. There are four basic attitudes that humans can have towards God, Meillassoux says. First, we can believe in God because he exists. This is the classical theist attitude, rejected for the simple reason that it would be amoral and blasphemous to believe in a God who allows children to be eaten by dogs, to use Dostoevsky’s example. Second, we can disbelieve in God because he does not exist: the classical atheist attitude. But this leads to sadness, cynicism, and a sneering contempt for the greatness of human capacity. The third option, rather more complex, is to disbelieve in God because he does exist: in other words, to exist in rebellion against God as the one who must be blamed for the evils of the earth. The examples here might range from Lucifer himself, to the more human figure of Captain Ahab in Melville’s Moby-Dick , to Werner Herzog’s even more recent catchphrase, “Every man for himself, and God against all.” That leaves only the fourth option: believing in God because he does not exist. Meillassoux closes his book by saying that the fourth option has now been tried (namely, in the course of his own book), and that now that all four have been specified, we must choose. The first reaction to this theory of the inexistent God will be laughter. Few readers will ever be literally convinced by it, and probably none will immediately be convinced by it. But if we ask ourselves why we laugh, the answer is because it sounds so improbable that an inexistent God might suddenly emerge and resurrect the dead. It obviously sounds more like a gullible theology than a rigorous piece of philosophical work. Yet two things need to be kept in mind. First, Meillassoux’s theories are hardly more unlikely than those of great philosophers of the past such as Plato, Plotinus, Avicenna, Malebranche, Spinoza, Leibniz, Nietzsche, or Whitehead. We read the great philosophers not because their systems are plausible in commonsense terms that can be measured by the laws of probability. Instead, we read them precisely because they shatter the existing framework of common sense and open up new window on the universe. Second, and even more importantly, Meillassoux has already rejected probability as a valid measuring stick in philosophy. Or rather, he accepts probability in the intra-worldly realm (where it is linked with potentiality), and rejects it at the level of the world itself (where potentiality is replaced with what he calls virtuality). The virtual God can appear at any moment for no reason at all, just as any other new configuration of laws of nature can appear: in a manner that the laws of probability cannot calculate. Responding to those who might ridicule the idea of a sudden emergence of God and a resurrection of the dead, Meillassoux cites Pascal, who asserts that the resurrection of the dead would be far less incredible than the fact that we were born in the first place. This shifts philosophy onto new ground. Rather than concerning ourselves with what is likely to happen in the world as we know it, we focus instead on the most important things that could happen. For this reason, the expected objection that a virtual God is no more likely to appear than a virtual unicorn or a virtual flying spaghetti monster misses the point. Unicorns and spaghetti monsters could also appear, just like any other non-contradictory thing. But these would just be novel bizarre entities among others, not the heralds of completely new worlds. For Meillassoux, the emergence of matter, life, and thought have been the three truly amazing advents of the world so far, each of them dependent on the advent(s) preceding them. As he sees it, there can be no greater intraworldly entity than the human beings who already exist, since nothing in the world is better than the absolute knowledge of which humans alone are capable. This means that the next great advent must be something that perfects human beings rather than superseding them. And this can only be the world of justice, in which the dead are resurrected and their horrible deaths partially cancelled (Meillassoux never considers the possibility of a God who would literally erase the pre-divine past so that it never happened at all). The only immortality worth having is an immortality of this life, not an existence in some ill-defined afterworld. Human existence, he holds, must always be governed by a “symbol” that gives us the “immanent and comprehensible inscription of values in a world.” And just as cosmic history made the three great contingent leaps of matter, life, and thought, with a leap to justice as the only one still to come, a similar structure occurs within human culture and its symbols, which consist so far of the cosmological, naturalistic, and historical symbols, with a “factial” symbol still to come. We can review each of these symbols briefly. The cosmological symbol refers to the ancient dualism between the terrestrial and celestial spheres. Here below everything is conflict, corruption, and decay; but in the heavens nothing is perishable, all movement is circular, and everything is arranged in mutual harmony. This symbol is ended by modern physics when Galileo discovers such blemishes as sunspots and craters on the moon, and when Newton integrates both celestial and terrestrial movement into a single gravitational law. Next comes the naturalistic or romantic symbol, in which perfection comes not from the sky but from nature itself. The world is filled with pretty flowers (Meillassoux claims that the ancients never discussed the beauty of flowers until Plotinus in the third century) and with living creatures naturally moved by pity, at least until society corrupts them. This symbol collapses in the face of reality as we know it, since pity is no more common than war, corruption, and violence. This brings us to the historical symbol, which only now is passing away. Bad things may happen, but history has an inner logic of its own, such that everything works out in the end. The ultimate form of the historical symbol is the economic symbol, whether in a Marxist or neo-liberal form. Just as the Marxist holds that the inner economic logic of the capitalists will inexorably lead them to self-destruction, the neo-liberal assumes that the sum total of individual selfish actions will lead, in the long run, to the greatest possible good. We worship the economy and let it guide history for us, just as the ancients worshipped celestial bodies and held them to be free from blemish. The final remaining symbol is the factial symbol, which Meillassoux hopes will now emerge. Factiality, we recall, is his term for the absolute contingency of everything that exists. Once we have grasped this absolute contingency, we are free to expect the dramatic advent of the coming fourth World: the world of justice, inaugurated by a virtual God and even mediated by a messianic human figure. There is the added feature, however, that this messiah must abandon all claims to special status once the messianic realm of justice is achieved. The messianic figure will then be no more special than any person on the street, since a reign of human equality will have arisen. Although this focus on human being might seem like a return to standard humanism, Meillassoux holds that human pre-eminence has never truly been maintained. Previously, humans have been treated as special only because they contemplate the Good, because they resemble their omnipotent creator, or because they happen to be the temporary victors in a cruel Darwinian death-match between millions of living species. For Meillassoux, by contrast, humans have value because they know the eternal. But it is not the eternal that is important, since this merely represents the blind, anonymous contingency of each thing. What is important is not knowledge of the eternal , but knowledge of the eternal. We should not admire Prometheus for stealing fire from the gods; Prometheus is simply as bad as all the gods, no matter how much he increased our power. Feuerbach and Marx were wrong to say that God is a projection of the human essence, since for Meillassoux the usual concept of God represents the degradation of the human essence. If the traditional God was allowed to inflict plagues and tsunamis on the human race, the Promethean human of the twentieth century simply assumes the right to inflict death camps and atomic fireballs instead. In this respect, we have simply begun to imitate the degradation of humanity that was formerly invested in an omnipotent and arbitrary God. In response to charges that absolute contingency might lead to political quietism, Meillassoux counters that the World of justice would mean nothing unless we had already hoped for it beforehand. A World of justice that came along at random would merely be an improved third World of thought: indeed, a perfect one. But it would have satisfied no craving, and would therefore have no redemptive power. For this reason, we must actively hope for the fourth World of justice for such a fourth World ever to arise. Not only justice, but beauty is dependent on such hope: for Meillassoux, who is here somewhat dependent on Kant, beauty means an accord between our human symbolization and the actual world, which could never be present in a World of the blessed any more than justice could. And just as a messianic figure is needed to incarnate our hope and then abandon power once the World of justice is realized, it is the figure of the child whose fragile contingency shows us a dignity and a demand for justice beyond all power. 3. Meillassoux Radicalized or Reversed Given the promising reception of Meillassoux’s first book, it would not be groundless to engage in early speculation about what it might take to earn him a place in the history of philosophy. Maybe this will never happen—who knows?—but quite possibly it will: his lucid argumentative methods and sheer philosophical imagination at least make him a good candidate to be read well into the future, especially following further elaboration in print of his mature system. Philosophy is often practiced as thought it were nothing more than the amassing of “knockdown arguments.” But this is no more insightful than saying that good architecture is the amassing of steal beams. It is true that poorly constructed building cannot stand for long, but sound construction is merely the first, indispensable step in building. In fact, I am inclined to say that what really makes a philosopher important is not being right, but being wrong . I mean this in a very specific sense. I once heard the interesting remark about twentieth century culture that “you have to remember that the sixties really happened in the seventies.” That is to say, it was in the 1970’s rather than the more honored 1960’s that civil rights, free love, long hair, and the rock and roll drug culture really took root. With respect to the history of philosophy, we might just as easily say: “you have to remember that Plato really happened in Aristotle,” that “Kant really happened in Hegel” or “Hume really happened in Kant,” or that “Husserl’s phenomenology first achieved its truth in Heidegger.” One becomes an important philosopher not by being right, but by attracting rebellious admirers who tell you that you are wrong , even as their own careers silently orbit around your own. To recruit faithful disciples may be comforting and flattering, but the greatest thinkers have generally had to experience refutation at the hands of their most talented heirs. For this reason, I would propose that we size up the magnitude of living thinkers not by deciding how many times they are right and wrong, but by asking instead: who would take the trouble to refute this author? For this reason I do not ask: “Is Meillassoux right?”, since I do not believe in the virtual God myself, nor am I convinced by any important aspect of Meillassoux’s philosophy. Instead, I ask if there are interesting ways to overturn him. Only by being overturned, by no longer remaining a contemporary, does one become a classic. Let’s begin with a simple model of refutation, which can be refined further at a later date once the basic point is established. One kind of refutation simply consists in saying: “This author is a complete idiot.” The refuter now walks away in celebration, and no link between the present and the future is built; all is reduced to rubble. But this sort of mediocre triumphalism is generally practiced by those who achieve little of their own, and is not especially interesting. Much more interesting is the sort of refutation that does not take its target to be a complete idiot. I would like to suggest that there are just two basic ways in which this can be done: radicalization and reversal . It has not escaped my notice that this is a fairly good match for the Deleuzian distinction between irony and humor. Whereas irony critiques and adopts the opposite principle of what it attacks, humor accepts what it confronts but pushes it into highly exaggerated form. The ironist is like the worker who sows chaos by rebeling and contradicting the boss, while the humorist is like the worker who follows orders to an absurdly literal degree, with equally chaotic results. Let’s start with a few examples. In Aristotle’s treatment of Plato, and Heidegger’s of Husserl, we find reversal. Plato’s eidei are transformed by Aristotle into mere secondary substances, and the individual worldly things despised by Plato become what is primary. For Husserl what is primary is whatever is present to consciousness, while for Heidegger this is precisely what is secondary, since the primary stuff of the world withdraws from any form of presence at all. As for radicalization, it is most easily found in the transformation of Kant by German Idealism: “Kant was right to wall off the things-in-themselves from human access, and simply should have realized that the thought of the Ding an sich is also a thought, and thereby the noumena are just special cases of the phenomena,” with much following from this discovery. It would also be easy to read Spinoza as a radicalizer of Descartes, and Berkeley and Hume as radicalized versions of Locke. Perhaps the distinction is now sufficiently clear. Admiring refutations are not those that say “Professor X is an idiot,” which is merely the flip side of the eager disciple’s fruitless “Professor X got everything right.” Instead, it will be some variant of one of the following two options: “Professor X is important, but got it backwards,” or “Professor X is important, but didn’t push things far enough.” In the history of philosophy these two latter cases have often been painful in purely human terms: Aristotle expresses sadness at refuting Plato, Kant is openly annoyed at Fichte, and Husserl feels betrayed and used by Heidegger. Rude handling from later figures almost seems to be the sine qua non of being a great philosopher. Now, it has already been claimed that Meillassoux is an emerging philosopher of the first importance, and by no less a figure than Alain Badiou: “It would be no exaggeration to say that Quentin Meillassoux has opened up a new path in the history of philosophy…” (Preface, vii). But rather than taking Badiou’s word for it, or rejecting his word, we might experiment by asking how Meillassoux could be radicalized or reversed. Are there interesting ways of doing this that might launch whole new schools of philosophy, unexpected or even condemned by Meillassoux himself? While no one can see the future, the present is poor when it is not riddled with virtual futures. The relation between philosophers and their predecessors and successors is always somewhat complicated, of course. But generally there is one central divergence at stake, which might be taken as the key to all the others. On this basis we could say that new thinkers primarily radicalize or primarily reverse the main ideas of their chief philosophical forerunner. There may be specific historical conditions and perhaps even personality traits connected with these two types, but this question can be left aside for now. More important for us is that radicalizers will generally be followed by reversers, and vice versa. Consider the textbook example of a reversal in the history of philosophy: Kant’s Copernican Revolution, which inverts the so-called dogmatic tradition that addresses the world itself, and makes the world revolve instead around the conditions by which it is known. While it is not completely impossible that Kant’s successors might have re-reversed this principle back into a new and stronger dogmatic realism, conditions were premature for such a move. Anyone doing this too early would likely have been an angry anti-Kantian reactionary rather than an original thinker in command of a genuinely new realist principle. The far more likely outcome is the one that actually happened: Kant’s reversal of his predecessors was viewed as incomplete, or as retaining lamentable bits of the traditional view, which despite his admirable breakthrough he was unable to shake off. This was the view of German Idealism, anyway. In similar fashion, Spinoza could also be viewed as a radicalizer of Descartes, who is equally accused of preserving various Scholastic dogmas in an otherwise radical project of philosophical reversal. The point is this: reversals in the history of thought tend to be followed soon thereafter by radicalizations of those reversals. The same may hold true in reverse: radicalizations might generally be followed by reversals, given that it is not always possible to be more radical than the radicals have already been. Consider the case of Husserl, who radicalizes Brentano’s early vagueness about what lies beyond immanent objectivity, and Twardowski’s assertion that there must be an external object lying outside the intentional content, by collapsing everything into the intentional sphere: there is no difference between the Berlin in my consciousness and the actual Berlin that is home to millions of people. It is difficult to see how one could be even more radical than Husserl’s idealist turn here. And thus the road is paved to Heidegger’s reversal of classical phenomenology, in which the key point is what lies deeper than any presence to consciousness: the Sein whose power and obscurity cannot be made exhaustively present, but only sends itself in historical epochs. In similar fashion we might also read Leibniz as a reverser of Spinoza’s radicalization, retrieving a strong sense of individual substance and a certain validity of what the Scholastics had said. Returning to Meillassoux, we might ask which kind of philosopher he is: a radicalizer or a reverser? At present, Meillassoux looks to me like a radicalizer (though for now his future remains shrouded in mist). He takes the correlationist tradition, which allows us to speak only of the relation between human and world, and tries to raise it into an even more extreme claim about the absolute contingency of everything. But whereas German Idealism did this by trying to collapse the distinction between thought and world entirely into the “thought” side, Meillassoux does it by trying to shift the non-absolute contingency of the thought-world correlate from epistemology to ontology. It is no longer a question of the inability of human knowledge to know what lies outside the correlate, but the inability of reality itself to be rooted in any definite laws. Furthermore, if we look at the various features of Meillassoux’s philosophy identified earlier tonight, all but one are already so radical that there is no obvious way to push them further. The one exception would be his claim that the world as a whole can change for no reason at any moment, coupled with the inconsistent claim that within a given world there are laws of nature that everything must follow. If gravitational attraction between all masses is a current law in our world, then for Meillassoux there can be no exceptions to this law for as long as it remains in force. A toppled vase will fall to the floor every time for sure,unless there is a cosmic change by which the laws of nature as a whole have altered. (This is reminiscent of the late medieval distinction between the absolute and ordained power of God, according to which God has the power to set or change the laws of nature, but not to contravene those laws locally once they are set.) On this point, to radicalize Meillassoux would simply be to say: there are no laws of nature even in the local sense. Everything that happens, even in the world here and now, is purely contingent and not governed by even a trace of law. And while this would be a more consistent development of Meillassoux’s thoughts on contingency, it is difficult to see how it could lead to a new philosophy. Instead, the admiring successors of Meillassoux are more likely to reverse one of his already sufficiently radical points. At least four candidates come to mind: *First, we have seen that Meillassoux thinks correlationism is challenged by a time before or after consciousness, but not by a space lying outside it. Perhaps this could be reversed into saying that spatial exteriority is the really crucial point. The arguments on this point are perhaps the least convincing in After Finitude (and do not even occur in the original French edition), and therefore it might be a candidate for the “blind spot” of which no philosopher is ever free. *Second, Meillassoux uses Cantor to claim that the contingency of laws of nature would not entail that they are unstable. A successor of Meillassoux might claim that it does make them unstable, and celebrate this fact. This person would then have to explain why common sense seems to encounter a relatively stable world despite its truly rampant instability. Whereas Meillassoux’s problem is to show how stability might exist despite contingency, this successor’s problem would be slightly different: to show why actual, full-blown instability might have the appearance of stability. *Third, Meillassoux claims that the primary qualities of things are those that can be mathematized. He might be reversed by a successor who says the opposite: the mathematizable qualities are the secondary ones, and the primary ones are those that elude symbolic formulation. While this is a perfectly valid possible objection to Meillassoux, it is one that is made in advance by some of his predecessors and is still made by some of his peers, making it less interesting for futurology than some of his other points. *Fourth and finally, whereas Meillassoux claims that God does not exist but might exist in the future, a successor might argue even more bizarrely that God has always existed but might vanish in the future. Let’s arbitrarily select the first of these possibilities, and imagine briefly where it might lead, if pursued in the future by admiring detractors. Meillassoux comes from the circle of Badiou, and some of Badiou’s most ardent admirers are found in Latin America. So, let’s imagine that towards mid-century some ingenious reversers of Meillassoux emerge in that portion of the Spanish-speaking world. Just for fun, let’s call them Castro and Chávez. And in order to avoid any confusion with the present-day politicians of those names, we will stipulate that Meillassoux’s great successors are both women. The philosopher Castro (we will suppose she comes from Peru) reverses Meillassoux’s argument that the ancestral or diachronic are what most threaten the human-world correlate. Instead, she claims that the diachronic does not threaten the correlate at all, and that we must instead look at space as what ruins the correlate and demands a strange new realism. What would such a philosophy look like? In order to determine this, we might ask what price Meillassoux pays for doing it the opposite way. As I see it, he pays in two separate ways. One is that laws of nature for him are contingent over time . The laws of nature apply to the universe as a whole at any given moment, and would be changed globally if they are ever changed at all. The second price he pays is that Meillassoux has no mereology , or theory of parts and wholes. Everything for him is on the level of the given, or immanent in experience, with the sole proviso that the laws governing this immanence might change without notice at any given moment. In reversing Meillassoux, Castro makes the following claims in the preface to her stunning debut book of 2045, The Cosmos and its Neighborhoods , rapidly translated from Spanish into all the languages of the world: Despite his brilliant analysis of the contingency of laws of nature over time, Meillassoux gets two important assumptions wrong. First, he allows for only one set of contingent laws to govern nature as a whole. Second, he allows laws to govern only the world that is immanent in experience, and thereby fails to explore the contingency among part-whole relations. In this book I will argue, first, that the laws of nature vary in any given instant between one region of the universe and the next; and second, that the world is made up of layers of parts and wholes that are also contingent with respect to one another. Those are the words of Castro. This may sound like a hopeless free-for-all of chaos, yet the book somehow succeeds in drawing some compelling deductions about how laws must vary from one place or level in the world to the next. Trapped in the limited horizon of 2011, and not yet inspired by the heavily balkanized political and technological situation of 2050 that somehow lends additional credence to Castro’s vision, we can only vaguely grasp what such a philosophy might look like. After this reversal of Meillassoux by Castro, the usual pattern leads us to expect a radicalization by Chávez, a young Argentine student of Castro. How could the already strange theories of Castro be radicalized? Perhaps as follows, in a disturbing new book entitled The Implosion of the Neighborhoods , which argues as follows: Castro was right to shift the Meillassouxian framework of contingency from time to space. However, in this respect she retained a surprisingly traditional opposition between the two. In this book I will show that time and space collapse into one another. This may sound too much like the discredited four-dimensional block universe of twentieth century physics and philosophy. However, the four-dimensional universe is a model biased in favor of space, merely adding an extra dimension to the commonsense spatial continuum while stipulating that the serial passage of time is an illusion. In this book I will argue instead for a one-dimensional space-time modeled after our experience of time, in which there is no simultaneous co-existence at all between different parts of the universe, or ‘neighborhoods’ as my esteemed teacher Castro has called them. Instead, the various portions of the universe link to one another by succession rather than by coexistence. Buenos Aires, New York, and Amsterdam do not exist simultaneously in the same landscape, but one after the other in the mind of some observer, and this observer can only be an observer much larger than any human. Against Meillassoux’s notion of a virtual God that does not exist now but might exist in the future, I will argue for an actual God that surveys the universe in sequence, thereby generating the illusion of spatial diversity and even the illusion of individual minds located within that diversity. Once this divine observer dies, the universe as a whole must perish. Again, these ideas are so bizarre that we of 2011 can barely comprehend them, just as Aristotle would have had a difficult time grasping the theories of Descartes. We could then perhaps imagine a further reversal of this theory, emanating from the intellectually resurgent Philippines of the twenty-second century. The Filipino School might argue that the universe is already dead, given the collapse of its spatial richness into the serial observations of a flimsy and mortal God. The virtual universe does not yet exist, but might exist in fully spatial form in the future, and this would require the death of God and the resulting liberation of God’s succession of images as independent, spatially situated realities. With a bit of sharpening, we might be able to make all of these imaginary thinkers more intuitively clear. Along with the history of philosophy, there might arise a new discipline generating imaginary futures for philosophy. The richness of Meillassoux’s system comes not from the fact that he is plausibly right about so many things, but because his philosophy offers such a treasury of bold statements ripe for being radicalized or reversed. He is a rich target for many still-unborn intellectual heirs, and this is what gives him the chance to be an important figure. NOTES 1. Quentin Meillassoux, After Finitude . Trans. R Brassier. (London: Continuum, 2008.) Page 5. The word “correlationism” does not appear in his doctoral thesis. As Meillassoux informed me in an email of February 8, 2011, he first coined this term in 2003 or 2004, while editing for publication a lecture he had given at the École normale supérieure on a day devoted to the theme of “Philosophy and Mathematics,” an event including Alain Badiou as one of the participants. 2. Graham Harman, Quentin Meillassoux: Philosophy in the Making . (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, forthcoming 2011). 3. In an email of December 6, 2010, Meillassoux clarifies that in After Finitude he only deduces the impossibility of a “universal contradiction,” not of a determinate contradiction. In the same email he suggests that he can also prove the latter, though the proof is somewhat lengthier than the one found in After Finitude . 4. After Finitude (18-26), in the passage falling between the two sets of triple asterisks. These pages were sent by Meillassoux to translator Ray Brassier (in French) during the translation process, and do not appear in the original French version of the book. 5. Graham Harman, “Quentin Meillassoux: A New French Philosopher.” Philosophy Today 51.1 (2007): Pages 104-117. The passage where I raise the question of space can be found in the first column of page 107. 6. Vernes is first cited on p. 95 of After Finitude . See Jean-René Vernes, Critique de la raison aléatoire, ou Descartes contra Kant . (Paris: Aubier, 1982).  . (shrink)

“The Emperor’s Old—and Perennial—Clothes: Two Spanish Fine-Tunings to Andersen’s Received Wisdom” There are two Spanish versions of the famous story of the Emperor’s new clothes. They differ from Andersen’s version--the one that most people know about—in significant ways. Žižek has often used the story to illustrate the Lacanian, complex, and paradoxical nature of ideology. But nobody has used these two versions to speak of these isues. The Spanish versions maintain the core of the story but offer illuminating (...) deviations, including one in which the result of the supposed revelation of the truth results not in the unveiling, but in the further veiling of reality. The article focuses on two occasions in which Žižek has referred to the story, and its aim is simply to offer the readers of IJZS these two alternative accounts of how ideology works. (shrink)

Qaṣeeda-i Burdah written by Egyptian sufi poet Busīrī (d. 695/1296) as an eulogy for Beloved Messenger Moḥammed has received great attention in the Islamic world. This work has been recited both in cultural/social ceremonies such as weddings, holidays and funerals. On the other hand, it was also annotated, translated, and takhmīs, tesdīs, tesbī‘ and taşṭīr were written to it by the pen of scholars and litterateurs in literary circles. These activities, which have been carried out over and over again, has (...) been going on from the 15th century to the present day. Not only the reputed people, but also unknown ones or ones whose names were later forgotten have tried to translate it to their own language. The subject of the study is one of this type of poetic translations of the eulogy. Like its translator, date of this poetic translation is also unknown. This work was written in the remel baḥr type of ‘arūż in 162 verses using the spelling of the classical period. Although a significant portion of the rhyme words was adapted from the source text, it has a more understandable style than its counterpart. In terms of poetry, it is above the average. The translator decorated the meaning that he borrowed from the original text with his own poetic ability and tried to express it in a unique manner. For this aim, it is more literary, lyrical and successful than most other translations of Qaṣeeda-i Burdah. In the present study, text of the mentioned work was given with transcription along with mentioning of some of its features. Summary: Qaṣeeda-i Burdah written by Egyptian sufi poet Buṣīrī (d. 695/1296) has an important place in the Islamic world. Named by the poet himself as al-Kavākib-al-durriya fī madḥi khayr-al-bariyya, this work is also known as al-Qaṣeedat-al-mīmiyya since its rhyme letter is Arabic mim, as Qaṣeeda-i Bur’ah since it caused Buṣīrī to recover from a disease, as Qaṣeeda-i Burdah due to the rumor that this event took place while he was wearing a coat by the hands of Beloved Messenger Moḥammed. In order to prevent confusion with the eulogy of Ka‘b b. Zuhayr (d. 24/645) with the same name, it is known in cultural circles as Qaṣeeda-i Bur’ah. However, in literature, it is commonly referred as Qaṣeeda-i Burdah. The work was written in simple baḥr style of ‘arūż, and consists of 161 couplets. It has ten sections in terms of its content: longing for the beloved, complaining about the soul, eulogy for Beloved Messenger Moḥammed, his birth, miracles, dignity of the Holy Qur’ān, miracle of mi‘rāc, importance of jihad, sorrow, hope, prayer and request. The eulogy, which has an effective style, has gained great acclaim in the Islamic geography and has been read for various purposes for centuries. Some people recite it in wedding ceremonies, while some others use it in funerals. The sick people recite it with the hope of healing, while calligraphers wrote it for practice.Owing its fame more to its story rather than its value of art, the eulogy was translated into Eastern languages such as Persian, Malay, Pashto, Punjabi, Turkish and Urdu, as well as into Western languages such as German, French, Greek, English, Spanish, Italian and Latin. In addition, many annotations, footnotes, takhmīs, tesdīs, tesbī‘, taşṭīr and replies were written to it. For example, the poem annotated in Arabic by Ebū Shāme al-Maqdisī (d. 665/1266), Khalid b. ‘Abdullah al-Ezherī (d. 905/1499), Ibrahim b. Moḥammed al-Bacurī (d. 1277/1860), ‘Omer b. Aḥmed al-Ḥarpuṭī (d. 1299/1882) was translated into Persian by the men of letters such as Molla Ḥafıẓ Sharaf (d. after 810/1407), ‘Iṣāmuddin b. ‘Arabshah al-Isfarayinī (d. 945/1538), ‘Ali b. Ḥasan Zavareī (d. 968/1560). The work was annotated by Le‘alī Aḥmed b. Muṣṭafa (d. 971/1563), Sayyid Ḥasan b. ‘Abdurraḥman (d. 1071/1661), Naẓifī Ismail Aqḥiṣarī (d. after 1205/1790), Shaykh-al-Islam Makkī Meḥmed (d. 1212/1797), Moḥammed b. Fayżullah (d. 1231/1816), Moḥammed b. Aḥmed (d. 1318/1900), Anqara Governor ‘Abidin Pasha (d. 1324/1906) in Turkish language. Takhmīs was written to the work by poets such as Ṭashkoprizade Kemaleddin (d. 1030/1621) Khocazāde Asad (d. 1034/1625), Sayyid Moḥammed Sharifī (d. 1040/1631), Shaykh-al-Islam Yahya (d. 1053/1644), Suleyman Naḥifī (d. 1151/1738), ‘Abdullah Ṣalaḥī (d. 1197/1783), Shaykh-al-Islam Makkī Meḥmed, Mollacıqzāde Raif (d. 1238/1823), Muṣṭafa Maqṣud (d. 1258/1843), Yemliḥazāde Muṣṭafa (d. 1294/1878), Meḥmed Said Pasha (d. 1308/1892), Moḥammed Favzī (d. 1318/1900) while Ismail Mufid (d. 1217/1803) wrote tesdīs and Niyazī-i Mıṣrī (d. 1105/1694) wrote tesbī‘ to it.The work was translated into Turkish language by poets such as ‘Abdurraḥim Qaraḥiṣarī (d. after 888/1483), Kemal Pashazāde (d. 940/1534), Ahmed-i Rıḍvan (d. before 945/1538) Le‘alī Aḥmed b. Muṣṭafa, Shamsaddin Sivasī (d. 1006/1597), Kemalatī Meḥmed (d. before 1015/1606), Esasī (d. before 1041/1631), Sayyid Ḥusayin (d. after 1050/1641), Mehmed Ṭalib (d. 1089/1679), Sukutī Meḥmed (d. 1103/1691), ‘Abdulhay Jalvatī (d. 1117/1705), Sulayman Naḥifī, ‘Abdullah Ḥulvanī (d. 1159/1746), Aḥmed ‘Arifī (d. after 1195/1781), ‘Abdullah Ṣalaḥī, Ismail Mufid, Sivaslı Aḥmed Suzī (d. 1246/1830), Evranyali ‘Abdurraḥim (d. 1282/1865), Meḥmed Said Pasha, Qonyalı Fakhreddin (d. 1365/1950), Sazai Qaraqoç (d. 1933), Ilhan Armutchuoghlu (d. 1937), Maḥmut Qaya (d. 1945), but there are also translations whose translators are unknown. The present study deals with such a translation of the work. To our best knowledge, the translation that has not been paid much attention by scholars to date and was mentioned only by Ṣadıq Yazar. Even he articulated only a few sentences about the translation based on a deficient copy of the work. Both in the library records and in its copies, there was no information about the translator and the translation date of the work. The translation, which beginns directly without a section such as an introduction at the opening, was written in 162 verses with the spelling of the classical period. It has a remel baḥr style of ‘arūż structure with fā‘ilātun fā‘ilātun fā‘ilātun fā‘ilun rhythm. Although it has some ‘arūż mistakes, it can be said that it is successful in terms of rhythm. Using the source text rhyme of mīm letter, the translator directly adapted some rhyme words from the Arabic text, while converting some others to appropriate Turkish words. Although he used some of them only once, he used some others several times. This finding implies that the translator may have had difficulties in finding words for the rhyme. It is noteworthy that he used some of those words in different meanings, and he employed 99 different rhymes in 162 couplets. The translator used the original text for purposes other than the rhyme words. He used some words directly without translating them or only removed the ḥarf-i ta‘rif. He transformed some words to others with the same stem or to their counterparts in Persian. While converting some of the phrases to forms suitable for the structure of the Turkish language using various practices, he used the old Anatolian Turkish as well as living Turkish. Like Buṣīrī’s eulogy, the poem, which consists of 10 parts in terms of contents, is suitable for the contents of the source text, but it is not a literal translation. The translator, who cared about literary rhetoric, largely preserved or even contributed to the harmony elements of the text. He reinterpreted the meaning of Buṣīrī’s work using his poetry skills, and produced a successful translation in terms of poetry with minimal rhyme flaws. Considering other translations of Qaṣeeda-i Burdah, the translation has similarities with that by Uskudarlı ‘Abdulhay Jalvatī in terms of rhyme letter, with that by Sayyid Husayin Amasī in terms of rhyme, and with that by Ismail Mufid Afandi in terms of direct adaptation of some words in original text, while it has common characteristics with the translation by Naḥifī in terms of both rhyme letter and direct adaptation of most rhyme words from the original text. On the other hand, the translation has similarities with the translations by Kemal Pashazāde, Ahmed-i Rıḍvan, Esasī Afandi, ‘Abdullah Ṣalaḥī and Na‘imī in terms of rhyme letter, rhyme and adaptation of most rhyme words from the original text. However, it is simpler compared to the translation by Kemal Pashazāde, more loyal to the content of original text compared to the translation by Ahmed-i Rıḍvan and more robust in terms of rhyme compared to the translation by Na‘imī. (shrink)