Really? Slappin down a blogpost at 11:26 p.m.? Shouldn’t you be reading The Diamond Sutra and running saline solution through your nasal cavity? Quoinstone and Frangipane had Italian friends in town; I forced one of the friends to write the following on a napkin for me:
TRANSLATES: MOODY, WALLACE, AND OTHER AMERICAN CULT AUTHORS
IMPOSSIBLE TO TRANSLATE ITALIAN BOOK: “LIBERA NOS A MALO,” BY LUIGI MENEGHELLO
At the time, in the bar, it seemed like this new Italian friend was overstating the “untranslatable” case. Subsequent research reveals Meneghello’s obituary from the Guardian, which confirms that
It is a pity that [Libera nos a Malo] has not been translated into English. Its use of language would present problems for any translator, but languages which have exchanged works reciprocally such as those of Joyce or Carlo Emilio Gadda should not shy from this challenge. In this context we should recall the poems translated by Meneghello from English into Vicentino, in his Trapianti (2002), as well as his essays on translation.
Well say but who’s Carlo Emilio Gadda? Etc.
The computer must yawn closed.
Good night, ad infinitum–