Though I Walk Through … What?
Posted: June 8th, 2009 | Filed under: Pop Culture | 68 Comments »
The following is not intended in any way to be about religion. This is entirely about being a writer. I attended a funeral on Monday, and there at the burial the pastor read the 23rd Psalm, which I love. She read from some small bible — it was about the size of a Harlequin Romance — and I have absolutely no idea what version she was using. None. But it was clear as she began reading that it was some kind of newer translation, one that tries to use more modern language. I can appreciate that.
However, then we came to the heart of the 23rd psalm and one of the most famous passages in the English language — one of my favorite quotes too:
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death … I will fear no evil.”
I’m no bible scholar to say the least, but I will say it’s pretty tough to top that phrase — valley of the shadow of death. The 23rd Psalm, many believe, was written by King David himself, the original underdog, the only guy who ever had the right to tell the media: “Yeah, I knew it was David vs. Goliath out there but I believed in myself.” I’m thinking: To take out Goliath AND write those words*, to capture life that perfectly in 10 words — I walk through the valley of the shadow of death — makes for a pretty impressive life.
*Yes, I do realize that David — if David indeed wrote the Psalm — did not write it in English. So credit is really due to the artists who translated and edited the King James Bible — great editors! But the whole David joke worked better.
Anyway, I waited on the big payoff. Yea, I walk through the valley …
Only then this is what the pastor said:
“Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid.”
Um … what? Seriously? What? That’s what she said. Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid. What does that even mean? We’re reducing the magnitude of the 23rd Psalm to, what, a stroll through Gotham City? What’s the next line: “Because I have mace in my purse and I took that self-defense class?”
I have worked with editors all of my professional life. Some have been brilliant. Some, maybe not. Editors have saved me on countless occasions and made my writing better, what, 97% of the time. This blog post, clearly, could use an editor. Of course, there are also many famous editing nightmares. I remember reading in Boys of Summer the famous story of Dave Anderson who, after the Dodgers made numerous errors in a game, led with the brilliant “They died with their boots,” which was changed by an editor to the suddenly incomprehensible “They died with their boots on.”
I have a friend who, writing about record-setting milk cow, led with the reasonably droll, “She’s supercow.” It was changed by an editor to the not so droll “She’s a super cow!” — a cringe-worthy change, but the reason is even worse. The editor changed it because … “supercow” did not come up on spellcheck. I have a couple of stories of my own, of course, but they’re boring*.
*I also remember Dan Jenkins’ brilliant bit in “Ya Gotta Play Hurt,” where he imagined famous leads of history as rewritten by the desk. The most hilarious and likely of those:
“It was the best of times and, ironically, the worst of times.”
But this is real: Some editor really changed valley of the shadow of death to “Darkest valley.” I have to stick up for the people I’ve worked with: None would have made THAT change. I cannot imagine — imagine — the agony of writing “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,” then going to bed at night feeling pretty good about myself, then waking up the next morning to read that it had been changed to: “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid.”
I suspect the call to the editor the next day would go a bit like this:
Me: Um, listen I was reading the paper …
Editor: Hey, meant to call you, but deadline was tight. We had some space issues and had to tighten your column a bit.
Me: Right. No problem there. It’s just that, um, listen, you kind of butchered my copy there.
Editor: What do you mean?
Me: Well, um, you know that part about the valley of the shadow of death. I mean, I really liked that.
Editor: Really? I have to tell you, that confused me. I think darkest valley is more precise.
Me: But, um, it’s not really a dark valley.
Editor: Shadow. You said shadow. Shadows are dark.
Me: Right, shadows are dark. But I really was referring to, you know, something a bit bigger than a valley. Kind of, well, like, life, I guess?
Editor: Life? Well, I didn’t get that at all. Did you mean Death Valley? Because you didn’t exactly say “Death Valley.” Were you talking about the real Death Valley or the football field at Clemson or …
Me: No. I didn’t mean Death Valley.
Editor: And I thought the whole “fear no evil” thing was wordy.
Me: It’s not really wordy. It’s like the same number of words as what you wrote.
Editor: I just think “I will not be afraid” tells the story a little bit better.
Me: Right. Um, OK. Hey, did you get my story for tomorrow?
Editor: Yeah, I’m only starting reading it. But I guess I should tell you that I did change the lead.
Me: Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears?
Editor: Yeah. Now, it’s “People. Listen up.”
Loading ...
That whole brilliant book by Jenkins is a diatribe against bad editors. Can’t recommend it enough.
“It was the best of times and, ironically, the worst of times.”
I almost died laughing, Joe.
And now we know why newspapers are dead.
A brief search on biblegateway.com led me to answer the question you didn’t ask, but I wanted to know anyway. The bible of which you speak is the “New Living Translation,” a much more “thought-for-thought” (as opposed to “word for word”) translation of the original Hebrew. I often find the NLT to be a useful tool, as other Bibles (the King James in particular) to be cumbersome, and the NLT to be… well, pretty much the way normal people talk these days. But I will agree with you here that the translators of the NLT did a disservice to the vivid imagery that the KJV (and numerous other translations) leave intact. Perhaps the only contribution I can give them in this case was the replacement of the old English “Yea” with the word “even,” a more suitable translation to today’s English. But every other Bible translated sinced 1970 does that too, so it’s not much of a contribution at all, really…
’show me the non-vegan content”
‘reach out and poke someone’
‘tubie or not tubie’, a good question’
good editing made each of these slogans better…it is unfair for someone as talented as le pos to pick on those of us, whom, lacking skills as writers, become editors.
Anybody have any thoughts on why the NLT is choosing these translations? “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death” is pretty much a straight translation of St. Jerome’s Latin text (more than can be said for other parts of the bible…). Why change it? I mean, with any author it’s an absurd license to so greatly distort the original words. Why is this case any different? It being the Vulgate, shouldn’t there be even more respect for the original text? It’s not like it’s unclear.
Joe, as a writer (aspiring writer? bad writer?) I loved this post. It’s definitely my favorite non-baseball post you’ve ever had.
Editors are like the defensive backs of the literary world. A DB would be a wide receiver if he could catch, and an editor wouldn’t be an editor if he (or she) could write (note: I know plenty of good writers are also editors, but those writers would NOT do some of the things discussed here).
My understanding is that the language used in the King James version, largely based on the Tyndall Bible of 80 or so years earlier, was outdated by the publication year, 1611. The decision was made to retain the archaic style because of the strength of the poetry. No question, it was the correct decision.
These modern translators are to religion and poetry what vegetarians are to food and haute cuisine.
By the way, brilliant piece.
Let it be said, however, that — contrary to some of the posts here — all editors are not editors because they can’t write.
All good writers know that.
Well, of course, buckweaver. I’ve spent a large part of my working life making authors look good. I’d have been the guy calling Dickens . . . “You know, Chas, I’d drop the ‘ironically’. You’re labelling – don’t do it. While you’re at it, replace the ‘and’ with a comma, maybe a semi. Whaddaya think? Dramatic, huh.”
I believe the NLT is also the version that removes the great “I AM” statement in the New Testament, also replacing it with something rather pedestrian: “I knew Moses before I was born.” It reminds me of when Principal Skinner told Willie to add more water to the lemonade…”I’ve watered it down as much as I can!”
“If you look at any list of great modern writers — such as Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, and F. Scott Fitzgerald — you’ll notice two things about them:
“1. They all had editors.
“2. They are all dead.
“Thus we can draw the scientific conclusion that editors are fatal.” — Dave Barry
Several translations of the Bible use ‘deep darkness’ (or something to that effect) instead of ’shadow of death’. One of these is the NRSV, which is used in almost all academic studies of Religion and is considered to be a very accurate translation. Also, the New JPS (widely used Jewish translation) uses ‘deepest darkness’ as their translators also agreed that it was closest to the original Hebrew.
The short answer is: Many of the translations attempting to be most accurate choose not to use ’shadow of death’. It is very possible, and perhaps likely, that David wrote ‘deepest darkness’ and a later editor altered it to ’shadow of death’. (Probably in when Rabbis translated the Hebrew Bible into Greek – B.C.)
All that being said, even as a grad student of Religion, I still believe that a pastor should ALWAYS read the King James Version of the 23rd Psalm because of its familiarity with popular culture and the emotional connection that most people have to it. Accuracy of translation is not always the most important thing…
First time I have ever seen someone reference “You Gotta Play Hurt”. The first time I read it I was in 10th grade. My English teacher actually gave my friend and I his copy telling us it was a “terrific book” (he obviously never read it, the use of hamsters or gerbils in the book is not appropriate for 10th graders). His face was pretty red when we started discussing the plot.
Thanks for the trip down memory lane, Joe.
That translation will kill all the Renaissance Faire language classes. We always taught the 23rd Psalm because in Elizabethan spoken dialect, they use a hard “a” universally (i.e. “walk” becomes “whack”).
So all I need to know is how to use spell check and I can be an editor? awesome…
If you want to argue that the pastor should have read from the King James version, fine, but don’t fault the editors of the NRSV (New Revised Standard Version). A whole lot of scholarly work went into the translation and I have no doubt that it’s much closer to meaning of the original Hebrew.
uh, closer to the* meaning…
Nice piece, Joe.
I stick with the NASB or ESV.
ESV
Psalm 23:4-Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
NASB
Psalm 23:4-Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
Incidentally, this verse is my favorite use of #23…even more so than Jordan, Mattingly, or Bron-Bron.
The “valley of the shadow of death” line was used in a Coolio song, which was a huge hit (and immensely popular among teens.) I don’t know that it really needs much dumbing down in order to make it mainstream. It wasn’t exactly indecipherable.
I’m absolutely non-religious – if someone came up with a “Jesus n’ Pals Farting Adventures!” version of the Bible, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it – so kudos to the translators of the new version for actually offending my sensibilities with this version.
I was a college newspaper editor and had to fire one of the copy editors – every night was a fight with her trying to “correct” the grammar in sports stories. The sports editor was apoplectic – and you never want that, at least not on a DAILY basis.
My lone editing story…
A few years ago I wrote a movie/book review of ‘Eragon’ for my university newspaper. Needless to say the movie was atrocious.
But the book – while not really original – had a good story behind it. Written by sixteen year old Christopher Paolini and self-published by his parents, the book became a hit and so of course Hollywood came a-calling.
I finished my article with what I thought was a pretty decent line:
“Rather than wasting ten dollars on a bad movie, spend it on a good book.”
Not exactly Shakespeare, but fine. Yet, after running through the gauntlet of three editors – and never getting a chance to look at it post-edit before printing – it came out as such:
“Rather than spending 10 dollars on a bad movie, spend it on a good book with the same name.”
‘With the same name’? Really?? Is that really necessary?? *Sigh*
We Catholics have a long-running joke about liturgical translators:
Q – What’s the difference between a liturgist and the IRS?
A – You can negotiate with the IRS.
For us it’s not so much the actual Scripture (though the lectionary has a few head-scratchers), but the prayers at Mass. You’d think a translation of the Latin would be in order, not a complete re-rendering. I mean, it’s CHURCH – we’re supposed to worship Jesus, not vaguely approve of Him.
Still, my favorite example of this is from Strunk and White’s “Elements of Style,” where the authors take famous examples and over-edit them. Thomas Paine’s “These are the times that try men’s souls” becomes “Times like these try our souls” and “Soulwise, these are trying times.” Ummmm….. no.
Translating the Bible is itself one of the most difficult challenges in language for all sorts of reasons. And then within that, the Psalms have to be the toughest book because these are poetry and not prose.
I remember getting a more modern translation when I was in high school, and I loved it. And then I encountered “To thee, O Lord, I lift up my soul” rendered as “I pray to you.” I don’t know the Hebrew that they were based upon, but I have no doubt that they are basically faithful translations of whatever it is.
Ultimately, I think, the problem is not that the modern version is wrong, but that it attempted to translate poetry with prose, and that will usually blow.
modern scholarship tries very hard to make what they come with as reflective of the original meanings of the original written languages, rather than making an effort to sustain mistranslations or misunderstandings (some of which were intentional and done by authority, some of which were intentional and were done by scribes for very personal reasons, and some of which were just…sloppiness)..
while that may change the traditional and more poetic phrases…it has the benefit of…again…being much closer to the original meanings.
which, you know…if you actually care much about religion as a societal/moral force? sort of supersedes things like…cool poetry, or a traditions that have been based on human error.
yes, that sounds snarky as hell. apologies. but as an agnostic interested in people and their myths…i appreciate the effort being made to give these sorts of things their proper reading and context.
like…you know…baseball history and stats…
The New Living Translation was never intended to be a word for word translation. It is based off the original Living Translation that was more thought for thought or paraphrasing of the KJV, but the NLT translation team brought in a more scholarly approach to translating the Hebrew and Greek to a more fluid “thought for thought” translation. I think this is more of a case of what you are used to and accustomed to in this Psalm. I understand the desire to hold to the KJV translation, but it is not necessarily the only way to read it.
I would also like to point out that the NLT does maintain the “I Am” passages in the Gospel of John…
@Jason– I would agree with Jason’s critique that if you are going to use the 23rd Psalm in a funeral service, you should stick with the translation most common in our culture…especially since it is the only passage used in any funeral scene for a movie or tv show.
The literature geek in me just died laughing. “People. Listen up!” is priceless.
The Septuagint has the following (don’t know if this will come out):
??? ??? ??? ??????? ?? ???? ????? ???????,
?? ??????????? ????, ??? ?? ???’ ???? ???
Literally translated: “For even if I walk in the middle of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, since you are with me.” So the replacement of ‘middle’ by ‘valley’ is a translator’s interpretation.
Unfortunately, I don’t read Hebrew.
About 20 comments up: “Let it be said, however, that — contrary to some of the posts here — all editors are not editors because they can’t write.”
This is a joke, right? “All editors are not editors?” That is, they’re all really something else? And they are this something else because they can’t write? “Not all editors have become editors because they can’t write?” That’s what the editor in each of us is supposed to substitute?
Reminds me of a piece in the New Yorker Talk of the Town from many years ago, when references to/from the Simpsons were first starting to seep into everyday language. Someone had written and article that contained a Homeresque “D’oh!”, and an editor had changed it to “Duh!”, and then for the next hour or more, some of the best writers and editors working in the English language today argued over which was right.
Hey, Joe. I’m a pastor with education in Biblical Hebrew. Sorry to affect your view of the 23rd Psalm! The Hebrew word from which the translation rendered “darkest valley” is actually more accurate than the KJV’s “shadow of death.” In a most literal way, the word means “deep shadows.” As you poignantly noted, it is more difficult to understand the author’s intent. That’s where being a shepherd (or at least around sheep) is important. Those in that arena know that sheep are deathly afraid of shadows. So, life may include being led by the Great Shepherd through canyons with high walls and no escape, plunging one into the most frightening circumstances. Even in this the sheep will not fear.
David in Toledo | June 9th, 2009 at 10:51 am [#30]
About 20 comments up: “Let it be said, however, that — contrary to some of the posts here — all editors are not editors because they can’t write.”
This is a joke, right? “All editors are not editors?” That is, they’re all really something else? And they are this something else because they can’t write? “Not all editors have become editors because they can’t write?” That’s what the editor in each of us is supposed to substitute?
—–
I think you’re misunderstanding, David… it seems he is saying that editors don’t have that role solely because they cannot write; some may be talented writers as well but they happen to be editors…
It reminds me of Joe’s post about Lincoln’s first inaugural and the “mystic chords of memory” line:
http://joeposnanski.com/JoeBlog/2007/11/26/the-art-of-abe/
Seward:
We are not, we must not be aliens or enemies but fellow countrymen and brethren. Although passion has strained our bonds of affection too hardly, they must not, I am sure they will not be broken. The mystic chords which proceeding from so many battle fields and so many patriot graves pass through all our hearts and all the hearths in this broad continent of ours will yet again harmonize in their ancient music when breathed upon by the guardian angel of the nation.
Lincoln:
I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave, to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.
(Lincoln, of course, was heavily influenced by the Bible (I’m pretty sure it was the King James, but it might have been a variant of that basic version), one of the few literary sources he had available as a child.)
As a non-practicing semi-agnostic Methodist, I vote for the King James Version. Along with Shakespeare’s plays and, later, Johnson’s dictionary, it was one base of the pyramid that has become English writing now. It just sounds a lot better than the newer versions, probably because religions are traditional and authoritative, and we like sacred writings to sound ancient and solemn.
My understanding is, by the way, that the group of theologians, academics, etc. who were recruited by King James, was influenced by Tyndale’s version, but also did original translations from the Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek.
For an example of what I suspect was an editor’s correction of Homer’s “D’oh!’ to “D’uh!” see this recent column in the KC Star:
http://voices.kansascity.com/node/4761
“Octomom Comes Clean,” by Lewis W. Diuguid
I even wrote a comment on the error.
It’s the random posts like this that turn this blog from an A+ blog to the best blog on the ‘net.
[...] [...]
Not only do I love that Joe’s post is brilliant, but also that it has sparked not one, but TWO Simpsons’ cultural relevancy references, including one comparison of the show to the Bible.
Joe, I’ve said it before, but once again, thank you for this place.
“People. Listen up.” is hilarious.
Here, in Poland, we have a canonical translation of “Winnie-the-Pooh” by Milne (is it aspopular in America as it is in poland?). And the translation is fantastic, but … for example, it is Jacob-the-Pooh, tha translator has used a male name.
So in late 80s somebody made a more precise translation. And it’s unreadable.
JOE: SIMPLY CLASSIC!! BRAVO!!
“. . .all editors are not editors because they can’t write.”
“. . .it seems he is saying that editors don’t have that role solely because they cannot write; some may be talented writers as well but they happen to be editors.”
“It seems he is saying that [SOME] editors don’t have that role. . . because they cannot write, [but that these] . . . may be talented writers as well [as serving as] editors?” “Solely” puts the editors in the condition of being unable to write, then looking for an additional reason to excuse their sorry status as editors.
“All editors” means all editors. “Not all editors” allows the sentence to reach the possibility that some can’t write and that some can.
Maybe I’m just too much in the spirit of the thread. . . .
Do you folks recall how in “The Life of Brian” movie (made primarily by some of the Monty Python fellows) that the main characters are standing quite a distance away from the presumed Jesus as he preaches to a throng of followers in a desolate valley? One of those who has been listening closest to the words but is still too far away from the soft-speaking Jesus to hear the sermon clearly is saying “He said, ‘Blessed are the Cheesemakers’! The main group questions this and wonders, “Why just the cheesemakers?” Someone else speaks up and says, “Well, he probably is speaking about all of those who toil in the dairy business.” (or something close to that, anyway)
Not exactly a poor editor/editing story, but one of my favorite silly movie story-lines and sort of along that subject line…Michael Palin was behind much of the writing of “Brian” I believe, maybe from around 1979?
I am loving, just loving, the interaction on this site about this post. I have occasionally recommended JoePos to to others with the bonus comment that the responders were the most intelligent and courteous found in the blogoshpere. I mean that as a positive, by the way. Then this comes my way. Tyndall, Aramaic, Johnson, Winnie -the-Pooh rendered unto Polska-Too much. Just too much. Thanks Joe, and thank you, everyone.
Great post, and great comments… two Simpsons references, a Life of Brian reference, and interjections from Biblical and Hebrew language experts. What more could we want? Anyone fluent in Aramaic? Anyone? Anyone?
I think this is a good example of the way in which a translator can often become a secondary author– one word changed or placed differently can significantly change the meaning, and how does one render the sense of what is said as opposed to a word-for-word translation, which would (because of differences in language, etc) be less accurate? I’m no kind of Christian, but (as a sometime writer myself) I do appreciate the line Joe mentioned.
I think an editor can be a fantastic addition to a piece, if that person is on the same wavelength as the writer and is working to make the author’s vision clearer, as opposed to putting his or her own spin on it. That’s not easy to find, but it’s what the best editors do, and they’re worth their weight in gold (and frankincense, and myrrh).
Another pastor (Jason H) has already clarified the meaning of the original Hebrew, which I was going to do, so I will just add that some translations, such as the NRSV which I use, try to be as faithful to the original languages as possible, (although that can be quite difficult). The Bible scholar part of me would (does) enjoy comparing translations and the original languages, but the pastor part of me would choose the King James for a funeral unless requested otherwise. Funerals are not the time to mess with people’s heads.
Love your column.
The Hebrew original is ???? ?? ???
‘B’gay Tzal Mavet’
Which does literally mean “in [the] valley [of the] shadow of death”.
King David wrote that line? I thought it was Coolio.
Clearly Joe is obsessed with walking.
Jacob the Pooh?
Spud, Yes, very good point and vs. Clemson on the road to boot!
So…will Coolio be re-releasing Gangsta’s Paradise with revised lyrics?
Of course the irony is we are all discussing a document that was written by many different men assigned by Constantine to put together a story of a supposed prophet who lived over 300 years before him to appease the masses of his own Byzantine empire. The whole thing is a load of bollocks anyway.
There is no irony. Among other things, we are discussing one of the greatest, if not the greatest, literary works ever compiled by man. If you cannot appreciate the beauty of the language then it is your loss and you are to be pitied.
And “Hugh Jorgan”? Really? You chose that? Another reason for pity.
An editor and a writer are lost wandering the desert and approaching delirium.
Up ahead appears an oasis. The writer rushes forward, excited and full of hope. The skeptical editor declares it only a mirage.
When they reach the oasis, it is indeed real. The writer dives into the shimmering pool and drinks deeply. As the wonder of this improbable salvation washes over him, he looks up and sees the editor standing beside the water and urinating into it.
“What the hell are you doing?” asks the writer.
“Making it better.”
Fascinating article and discussion. As someone who loves the Hebrew language and its logic and nuances (as well as beauty and humor), I appreciate this strand tremendously. Keep in mind that while much of modern Hebrew (the day-to-day language of Israel) is brand new, its foundations and a huge chunk of its vocabulary go straight back to the Bible and subsequent scholarly commentaries. That makes Hebrew such a rich and meaningful language. That said, far too few modern Israeli writers utilize that foundation in their work.
For much of the 1990s, while serving as The Jerusalem Post’s Washington bureau chief, I had a side gig at C-SPAN, doing its on-air translations (voiceovers) of major news events from Israel. Sometimes, I got the tape of the satellite transmission hours before heading into the studio, so I could review the Knesset address, campaign speech, etc., and consult my dictionary for words I didn’t know or when I felt the need to more precisely nail the word used. Writing about diplomacy was good preparation for the translation job because words, and the precision in the choice of words, are everything. Ideally, when a translator has the luxury of time, he/she should first translate, almost literally, the material. Only THEN should he/she smooth out all the rough edges in the flow, always careful to do such smoothing only to reflect such things as sensibility in the spoken/written language, idiomatic usage, etc. He/she should not be using the material as an opportunity to demonstrate creativity or cleverness. That opportunity resided in the writer, not in the translator.
I learned that lesson the hard way two decades ago, as the editor of a literary magazine. One writer submitted a nice poem, which I ran. Either because of my own typographical mistake or because I edited it incorrectly, one letter (one letter!) was off, and thus the word was off. I didn’t notice it until the magazine was printed. The poet noted the error and said that it threw off his poem. He said it was like a musician who writes a piece, but one note was off, thus rendering everything out of whack. That’s why editors really should (within reason) ask the writer what was intended so as not to make incorrect assumptions or careless edits.
Lastly, on the content of the Psalm 23 translations: I also dislike the pastor’s translation. Indeed, I could even quibble with the traditional KJ translation of the Hebrew original, which is what also is used in many Jewish prayer books. In my view, most accurately, the translation should be, “… in [not "through"] the valley of the shadow of death, I will not fear [not "fear no"] evil.” Also, “evil” could also be “badness,” but that’s splitting hairs.
Hillel Kuttler (hillelthescribecommunications.com)
Hugh wrote: “Of course the irony is we are all discussing a document that was written by many different men assigned by Constantine to put together a story of a supposed prophet who lived over 300 years before him to appease the masses of his own Byzantine empire. The whole thing is a load of bollocks anyway.”
Ummm, if you’re going to slam Christianity (which is out of bounds I think because Joe said at the beginning that the post was not about religion), at least get your history right. The 23rd Psalm was written over 1,000 years before Constantine.
I love this blog and the discussions it causes to happen (that sentence likely needs an editor, as does my excessive use of parenthesis).
One of the things about language and translation, for me at least, is that direct translation does not necessarily reflect the meaning of what was said (and what was supposed to be understood by the reader/listener). My sons are both in a Spanish Immersion program. If they translated some phrases directly to English, they would lose the actual meaning – and often would result in good humor or misunderstanding. Translations are not about word for word, but thought for thought. That said, translations and editing shouldn’t also be about efficiency and elegance, sometimes they should be about eloquence and effectiveness.
sigh, as does my spelling.
Winnie the Pooh is a dude right?
High picthed voice, sure, but I always thought it was a male bear.
Joe, Richard Iurilli #28, and TRad #40 –
Bob Newhart actually did this in the first bit on his first album, “The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart” (which is unbelievably, brilliantly funny for those of you who only know him from TV), in a piece called “Abe Lincoln Vs. Madison Avenue”. (Before any of our editors complain about the capital “V” in “Vs.”, that’s the way it appears on the album.)
Abe is talking on the phone to his PR man (Newhart) about the Gettysburg Address, and apparently has some issue with the opening “Four score and seven years ago”, thinking it a bit too florid. PR man/Newhart responds with (quoting from memory), “Abe, that’s meant to be a grabber. Changing it to ‘87 years’ would be like having Mark Antony say, ‘Friends, Romans, and countrymen — I got somehing I want to tell you.”
As for the Bible and its translations, I have to go with the KJV. I suppose that is at least partly because it’s the one I grew up with, but mostly it’s because it is, IMHO, without a doubt the most poetic and inspirational of the translations I have read. It is much more important to capture the meaning than to do a literal translation. (And a funeral is hardly the place to experiment with different versions.)
As reporter Dickie Dunn repeats to player-coach Reg Dunlop about his game reports (in the movie “Slap Shot”), “I just tried to capture the spirit of the thing.”
I think there has to be a place for both of these translations. I tend to agree that at a funeral, the 23rd psalm is so culturally well known that something close to the common usage is probably best. That said, it seems like there is a place for going back to the source Hebrew or Aramaic as the case may be (not sure why some folks talked baout the Latin as if it were source material — this is Old Testament, folks, the Latin is itself a translation). One of the best classes I took in college was a historical study of the Old Testament, and our professor used what he thought was the best translation, occasionally replacing with his own translations, as he was a scholar of that order. Using the KJV for that class would have been fruitless, but it obviosuly has enormous literary value.
The King James version was an orator’s bible, and was deliberately designed to be so. Its compilers set out to produce something that a preacher could use to inspire his congregation. You’d have to say they succeeded.
If those oldtimers had been handed the NRSV and told “Preach from this”, Christianity would have withered on the vine.
Scotty @ #55.
I guess that story is mildly amusing, if obviously derivative.
But here’s how the scene would play out if a little reality were brought to bear . . .
The writer dives into the shimmering pool and drinks deeply. When he lifts his head he notices the editor hasn’t joined him but is scurrying about in a purposeful manner.
“What the hell are you doing?” asks the writer. “Jump in. It’s wonderful.”
“I’ve just cleared the scorpions out of the date palms and there’s a nest of snakes I’ll have to see to,” the editor replies. “By the smell that’s coming out of the well, there’s a dead body down there. And don’t eat those nuts until I’ve checked them; at least half are poisonous. By the way, you may want to borrow my insect repellent. There’s a swarm of mosquitoes on your back.
“I’ll join you when I’ve finished. Then we can pretend that this is all yours and you are the King of Oasisania.”
My last contribution here, I promise. But I thought Joe’s editing scene needed some sort of rebuttal.
It’s 1608. A group of monks are sitting around a large table, working on the new Bible that’s been commissioned by King James. One turns to his neighbour and the following conversation ensues . . .
Thrushpeck: Can you run your eye over this 23 thing for me please, Groundy. I’m about halfway through. Got the shepherding analogy going and set up a lovely pastoral scene but for the life of me I can’t get any oomph into it.
Groundswell: Hmm. This the original eh? “Walking in the dark scares me. But You are my minder. And that helps. A lot.” Not exactly Shakespeare, those old Hebrews.
Thrushpeck: No. I tell ya, it’s getting to me. Wish I could draw. Those curly letter guys got the cushy number on this gig.
Groundswell: What have you done so far?
Thrushpeck: I’m thinking of upping the scariness. Shadows maybe. Dark is scary, sure, but if I go for shadows it’ll just add that edginess that’ll maybe make ‘em sit up in their pews.
Groundswell: You’re on the right track. I’ll tell you what’ll work. Valleys. Dark valleys. Shadowy valleys. Oooo. Scar-y. Especially for sheep.
Thrushpeck: OK. What say I kick off with a “Yea”; that’ll wake the sheep-shaggers up. Then bring in “though I walk in a dark, shadowy valley, I fear no evil” – we need an “evil” in there somewhere, even as a negative – “because You are with me” . . .
Groundswell: I’m with you. Keep going, you’re on a roll. What do shepherds carry to beat off wolves? Crooks. Staffs. Sticks. Slings.
Thrushpeck: Rods and staffs. It’s almost musical. How’s this? “Thy rod and thy staff, they keep the baddies at bay”.
Groundswell: Keep going, Pecky. You’ll get there eventually.
. . .
And he did.
Later . . .
Groundswell: Pecky, you know they’ve been having trouble with the opening line of the whole book, putting it off time and time again. I’ve been asked by the chief cassock to have a go. Pull this off and it’s a double layer of straw on the palliasse. How about lending a hand?
Thrushpeck: As long as you remember me when the gruel bowl comes round. This the original? Not promising eh. “It was a dark and stormy night.” We’ve got our work cut out.
[...] This post was Twitted by chavelaque – Real-url.org [...]
My only MUST SEE TV is a Dodger game. Other baseball will suffice. Nothing else on is MUST SEE.
Some times is happening that people require to get know close to this post and in that case this is worth to find a support of the trustworthy paper writing services and buy an essay there only.