secession by Chus Pato with insecession by Erín Moure secession by Chus Pato the Erín Moure translation with insecession by Erín Moure her Chus Pato echolation A Sample from the text BookThug · 2014 !"#$% &'"%"() Secesión by Chus Pato © *++, by Chus Pato and Edicións Galaxia, Vigo, Spain Secession English Translation © *+-. Erín Moure Insecession © *+-. Erín Moure /00 #"12%$ #&$&#3&' Secession / Insecession No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. 4e production of this book was made possible through the generous assistance of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council. 5"6#/#7 /)' 8#92"3&$ :/)/'/ :/%/0(1;")1 ") <;60"9/%"() Pato, Chus, -,==– [Secesión. English] Secession by Chus Pato : the Erín Moure translation. With, Insecession by Erín Moure, her Chus Pato echolation. Translation of Chus Pato’s Secesión with Erín Moure’s Insecession on opposite pages. Issued in print and electronic formats. >?@A ,BC---BB-DD-+E.-- (6(;)').–>?@A ,BC---BB-DD-+E,-D (F'!) I. Mouré, Erin, -,==-, author, translator II. Mouré, Erin, -,==- . Insecession. III. Title. IV. Title: Secesión. English. <G,.D,.*.<EB?.*-E *+-. CD,.-’. :*+-E-,+CB*=-B :*+-E-,+CB*D-= &<HI: "$6) ,BC---BB-DD-+=,-. F#")%&' ") 9/)/'/ INSECESSION SECESSION Erín Moure Chus Pato INSECESSION SECESSION An echolation-homage and biopoetics by Erín Moure, Montreal poet A biopoetics by Chus Pato, Galician poet from Ourense, Galicia born the same year as Chus Pato, in the green Atlantic climate of the northwest of Spain, Europe. in a city traversed by two rivers, just east of the Canadian Rockies. Translated from the Galician Each text in Canadian English responds to a Pato text, into Canadian English with one added Chinook wind. in Montreal and Kelowna by Erín Moure Erín Moure thanks Chus Pato and Jay MillAr ! | "#$%& F/%( | B A readerly text is one I cannot re-produce (today I cannot write like A readerly text is one I cannot rewrite (can I write today like Balzac?); Atwood); a writerly text is one I can read only if I utterly transform a writerly text is one I read with diJculty, unless I completely trans- my reading regime. I now recognize a third text alongside the readerly form my reading regime. I now conceive that there may be a third text: and the writerly: let’s call it the intranslatable. The intranslatable is the alongside the readerly and the writerly, there would be something like unreaderly text which catches fire, burns in the mouth, an instance the receivable. 4e receivable is the unreaderly text which catches hold, continuously outside any likelihood, whose function – ardently assumed the red-hot text, a product continuously outside any likelihood, whose by its scripter – is to contest the mercantile constraints on what is function – visibly assumed by its scripter – would be to contest the mer- written. This text, guided, armed by a notion of material, prompts me cantile constraint of what is written; this text, guided, armed by a notion to redact the following words: Dear Chus, I can neither read nor write of the unpublishable, would elicit the following response: I can neither what you produce, but I can intranslate it, like a conflagration, a drug, an read nor write what you produce, but I receive it, like a Kre, a drug, an insecession, an e(ri)nigmatic disorganization. enigmatic disorganization. Roland Barthes by Roland Barthes Roland Barthes by Roland Barthes Richard Howard translation, Richard Howard translation altered by Ruin E. Rome ' | "#$%& F/%( | , We recognize altitude as we ascend, we call the ocean that unfolds below: We recognize altitude from elevation, we call the most extensive prairie: Canadian Rockies Ocean Translation pivots on the word – as painting does on paint – this word that Literature is based on the word – as the visual arts are on the gaze – is not ours makes us feel, infects us… a translator’s gaze, a painter’s, are this word that is not ours makes us feel, commits us… a painter’s authentic mutations, and thus their works can cross the gap between word eyes, a !lmmaker’s, are authentic mutations, and thus their works and meaning, paint and gaze ring true translation, to sustain Literature, does not disdain or push away what rejects it the word that sustains Literature does not disdain or push away what and never disguises silence, it touches our interior, the machine of our organs, rejects it and must not be confused with silence, it touches animality magnetizes the black holes of the language, potentates meaning and machines, magnetizes the stars of the language, polarizes meaning because of this, the deer lie in a space of light and murmurs because of this, lovers lie in the hugest of intervals —the deer are in the aspens? —the lovers are in the circle? —circles mark the grass amid the aspens where they have lain —the circle marks where they had lain —did they die? —they died? —no, they awoke to glean —of course —when you translate Chus Pato, where are you? —when you make love, where are you? —in the startling air, in the no-event: on Air Galicia, for example —in the unexpected, in what will never occur: being a trapeze artist, for —and when you write your own poems? example —in the continual fold of the event —and when you write? —in what occurs, in what continually takes place where words are ecstatic figures and unjudgeable, marred and irretrievable, which is to say, amid the aspens so, words are free to be extreme !gures and unjudgeable, irreparable () | "#$%& F/%( | -- ASPENS IRREPARABLE I I THE BRAGG CREEK ICE CAVE (* WHERE THE CAVERNS SING -B Riel (' Carral -, River Park ++ Central Galleries *E Snows +! Deserts *B Altadore +! Egypt *B Glenmore ,) HaLa E- Quoth the Magpie ,! Nevermore EB Litany from Cassandra -+ Letter from Tangiers .E Northeast of the Carpathians .! 4e Distant Carpathians =B FACE AND MOUNTAINS !! FACE AND MOUNTAINS DB Benito !' Felix D, Ottawa *) Almorfe B- Equation *+ Equation BE Amygdala *! Amygdala BB Hide *' Jekyll B, Afternoon, Swallows '+ 4is I, Mountain CE Penthesilea '- Penthesilea C= Achilleía '! Achilles CB Yard /) Garden ,- Walnuts /+ DaLodils ,E Emotion /- Emotion ,= PIRATES /! GHOSTS ,B Lgiht’s End /' Finisterra ,, Fascination of an ABC ()) Fragments of an ABC -+- The House Which is Not Extension but Dispositio Itself ()- 4e House, Which is Not Extension but the Body Itself -+= This Dead Woman is Not Much Quieter ()' 4is Dead Woman Who Can’t Stop Talking -+, II II WHILE THERE’S STILL INK ((! WHILE I’M WRITING --B THOUGHTS, MIND YOUR MANNERS! (,- THOUGHTS, BEHAVE YOURSELVES! -E= This I is Not a Murderer (,! 4is I is not a Murderer -EB The I That Writes is… I Forget (,' 4e I 4at Writes is Not 4e I 4at Remembers -E, This I is Hardly Death (-+ 4is I is Not Death -.E This Fold Dreams and Undreams Until a Last... (-- 4is I Folds and Unfolds Until a Last Fold Which Is a Dream -.= Consciousness May Ponder but Does Not Mistake... (.' 4e I 4at Ponders is Not Consciousness -=, RUIN E. ROME (!- RUINS -D= ~ 48, OR 49 (*) ABOUT THIS BOOK -BE ON THIS BOOK (*+ I I THE BRAGG CREEK ICE CAVE WHERE THE CAVERNS SING RIEL CARRAL I knew nothing more beautiful and I had no word for beauty. Standing For a long time, I didn’t know what the word meant but I still kept at the stucco wall of the house, greeting with my arms the blooms that reading the pages where the philosopher repeated, always in English, were my height and bore my name: Erin! Erin! Delicately veined purple da"odils; I realized from the context that for Rancière da"odils was flowers. They grew after the snow, when sun had warmed the stucco emblematic of the poet’s writing; in the same way he used hummingbird wall that in turn warmed the soil beneath. I did not discern the di0erence for Mandelstam, he used daLodils for the author of the Prelude. between my name and theirs until that day. In my youth, in my childhood, there were no daLodils; at least I My mother squatted and her height went small beside me and she don’t remember them, not in the village nor in the Mower shops. In the told me in her language: you are Erin; those are Irises. I remember her painter’s city, in the author’s city, I did visit one of those shops on the size and movement and one word, my name, becoming two words in the cobblers’ street with my mother; it was an enigmatic site, as if it hadn’t mouth of my mother. always been a Morist’s but was an old-fashioned shop that had once So language comes clear in soft skulls. It is (/.!. The anterior needed many shelves, for shirts, to keep merchandise where people fontanelle gradually ossifies, the last fontanelle to close. could see it, but obviously there were never Mowers there. I had never heard of a flower shop. The enigmatic site for me was T. Fog, this is what the shelves behind the counter held, an L-shaped Eaton’s, the national department store where my mother led me on a counter, dark, of chestnut wood. harness lined with green felt (I don’t remember how we traversed the 4ere were ghosts, I breathed ghosts, they were very warm. space between the wall and downtown, perhaps by bus), and I waited 4ere were two salesladies, surely the owners of the shop and related beneath a circular low rack of women’s clothes while she spoke with the in some way, particularly beautiful, with taut faces, very pale and even sales clerks who were her height.