Word of the Month: Verlegenheitslösung

A Verlegenheit is a difficulty one may find oneself in, tinged with a whiff of embarrassment, and a Lösung is a solution. In combination, they indicate a solution that is less than ideal, the result of necessity rather than choice—there simply was no better alternative available. The so-called fiscal cliff deal we were treated to two days ago looks very much like a Verlegenheitslösung to me—nobody is happy with it, but something better was not doable, and everybody has some 'xplaining to do to their respective constituents.

In Germany, I find the term used particularly often in connection with personnel decisions, like when a coach names someone to a team only because the usual starter or substitute is injured. The whiff of embarrassment comes into play because the implication is that the team does not have enough depth to field a better replacement. It's this whiff that distinguishes a Verlegenheitslösung from what's called in English a stop-gap solution. In addition, it may not (temporarily) stop a gap: A less-than qualified cabinet member, who was a Verlegenheitslösung when appointed, may last for the entire term of a government.

Pronunciation:

Word of the Month: Index

Word of the Month: Armutszeugnis

Armut means "poverty", and a Zeugnis is a certificate or, in an educational context, a report card. Armutszeugnis referred originally to an officially recognized proof of poverty entitling the holder to certain types of government aid like legal assistance in a law suit. Nowadays, the term is used exclusively in a figurative sense: When we speak of an Armutszeugnis, we mean that a certain action (or lack thereof) is proof of somebody's glaring inadequacy with respect to a stated goal. It indicates an embarrassing gap between intent and result and can be viewed as a damning indictment of a person or group.

I find the term very useful, for example, when I contemplate the action or inaction of certain politicians or political parties, and since I know of no exact equivalent in English, Armutszeugnis is a term that comes to my mind rather often these days.

Note: The "s" between the two components of the term is a Fugen-s ("gap s"). Its function is to make the transition between the "t" and "z" easier to pronounce. The "eu" is a diphthong and sounds like the "oy" in "joy."

Word of the Month: Index

Word of the month: Putzfimmel

Word of the Month: Index

Putzen means "to clean" and a Fimmel is a craze for or an obsession with something. Putzflimmel denotes an obsession with keeping things, especially your house, not just clean, but entirely spotless. A person thus afflicted keeps cleaning utensils always in easy reach so that any trace of dirt or dust can be attacked as soon as it is discovered. This kind of person is also know as a Putzteufel (cleaning devil), the opposite of a slob.

...and speaking of slobs: I have found that it is just about impossible to live with someone who has a Putzfimmel.

Note on pronunciation: The "u" in Putz is a short "oo" as in "foot".

Word of the month: Schluckspecht

Our Schnapsdrossel (WoM for March) needs a drinking companion, and here he is. A Schluck is a gulp or swig (from schlucken - "to swallow"), and a Specht is a woodpecker. Put the two together and you have another moniker for a boozer or drunk. Again, I do not know how the word originated—perhaps the alliteration of the two components (the S in Specht is pronounced like English "sh") played a role.

Addendum (4/9/2012): According to this theory, the term goes back to certain woodpecker species that hammer holes into tree trunks in order to get to the sap.

Anyway, we have a word that may look daunting to foreigners: 11 consonants and only 2 vowels! Things appear easier when you realize that the "sch", "ck", and "ch" indicate but one phoneme each, which reduces the number of effective consonants in the word to 7. Still, for speakers of languages that avoid consonant clusters (like Japanese) the word is a challenge.

[Source: Wild Things in the German Language: Kindle version | iBook version]

Word of the month: Lebensgefährte, Lebensgefährtin

Both words mean literally "life companion" (male and female form, respectively--they combine Leben ("life") with Gefährte/Gefährtin ("companion"). The words are used to indicate the person one is sharing ones's life with without being married, i.e. a live-in lover. I do not expect these terms ever to enter English usage, but they are interesting to me because they point to a real difference I perceive in the way Americans and Germans deal "officially" with sexual relations. More in my first comment...

Word of the Month: Wanderlust

This word is in the language, but I like to talk about it anyway (see my first comment). It's composed of two Words: wandern (to hike, stroll, travel by foot) and Lust (desire). In its milder form, Wanderlust indicates a fondness for travelling, especially for travelling abroad; in its stronger form, it implies a real itch or restlessness--people overcome by Wanderlust do not want to stay home, and when they return from a (possibly extended) trip, immediately start thinking about the next one.

Hofmannsthal's poem Vorfrühling (Early Spring)

The Viennese poet Hugo von Hofmannsthal (1874-1929) is perhaps best known outside the German-speaking countries as the librettist of many Strauß operas, notably Der Rosenkavalier. What's less well know is that he also wrote some of the most beautiful and haunting poems in the German language. My favorite is his Vorfrühling (Early Spring), which is one of the three German poems I love most. Here it is, together with a prose line-by-line translation by me.

In response to a reader's comment, I've added since a second poem by Hoffmannsthal at that link, Reiselied (Travel Song).

Heine today

The indefatigable marlene has opend the discussion on another German poet who is of great interest to me, too. I will chime in after trying to get hold of the essay Die Wunde Heine by T. W. Adorno, who should have much to say about this. (Not that I take Adorno as final authority on many subjects, but I find him really illuminating when it comes to literary criticism because of his penchant for debunking established wisdom)

BTW Die Wunde Heine is hard to translate. It means literally "The Wound Heine", which isn't really English. One has a choice between "Heine as [Open] Wound", "Heine's Wound", "Heine, the [Open] Wound" and perhaps other possibilities. I probably like the first one best.

Addendum: After starting this thread, I have translated two Heine poems I like. They may offer a good way to get into this topic.

On Rilke

Marlene started a post on Rilke, and I am delighted to take her up on this. I am no specialist, though--which should encourage other non-specialists to contribute!

Translating Der Erlkönig and such

Motivated by today's NYT crossword puzzle, I present here, for further discussion, my thoughts on the chances and pitfalls of translating German texts into English--and vice-versa.

Here's the comment I put on the puzzle blog: Der Erlkönig (The Erlking): A Lied (art song) by the greatest composer of such songs in German, Schubert, using as lyrics the perhaps best known ballad by the greatest German poet of all time, Goethe... The ballad/song has not lost its appeal to the present day. Nabokov quotes the first two lines in my favorite Nabokov book, Pale Fire; Hilary Hahn has a wonderful version of it for solo violin; and Kraut Rock is also not immune to its allure.

Among the versions I found on youtube, I liked this audio-only version by the great basso A. Kipnis because of the clarity of his diction. If you do not know the lyrics, here is the German text together with a (workable, if flat-footed) prose translation.

This brings me to the present thread. For starters, please read some of my general thoughts on translation and take a look at my own prose line-by-line translation of this gem by Goethe.