SPRING FEVER

something about a book. something about a book. something about a book. something about a book. something about a book. something about a book. something about a book. something about a book. or just something. about a book. i never did find that copy of other people we married that was supposed to be in the small press section of the downtown powell's. powells.com still tells me that there's a used copy of death in spring at the downtown store, but the only copy i found on the shelf yesterday was the new not new one from a couple of weeks ago. so i have my justified doubts about the used copy that the website tells me is at the hawthorne store. but, it's supposed to be sunny and in the sixties tomorrow, so it might be nice to ride through southeast portland to 38th and hawthorne, even if i am already borrowing a friend's library copy of the book. the clothes, they start to come off this time of year. (in the sixties is warm here.) i'm also confounded by an image at the beginning of the fourth chapter (i'm not completely sure because the book isn't with me and i can only guess at how far i've read) that for some reason has me frustrated to the point of being unable to read on until i can picture it. i think that my frustration might be a result of my wondering if the translator of death in spring understood the image herself, which is probably also the manifestation of a memory i repressed of having once translated something too literally because i couldn't picture what the original words described well enough to be freer with my own. something about a pool shot. a massé. i think i got it wrong. i've got the gist of chapter four (or whichever): i understand what happens and why the boy's surprised. what happens with the bark, however, after the man cuts the transverse line of the cross into the tree i just can't picture. i shouldn't blame the translator, even if mercè rodoreda does usually have such an amazing way with describing simple things both simply and profoundly. all of the words of hers that i've read have been translated, too. it's just a distracting time of year. it's going to be warm and sunny tomorrow. "if this is the life, why does it feel so good to die today?" death in spring. or spring fever. all yours.