„how easily do you put words to something you felt?”

I think, I won’t say nothing new or distinct. Situation may be thought and that situation evokes emotions. There is always a reason. I just try to find the intention, the background. Then, sometimes (if not often), the name of emotion, feeling comes. It might be that that name has a meaning only for me.

---

"like a shadow, I am and I am not"

hi jc: i like when people disagree with me and say why they do. what i expressed about suzanne having found her own true voice is a personal opinion. i continue to stand by it because i feel that, through all this time, she has been working language to a point where she recognizes its face. it's like looking in a mirror: you look at an image of yourself and you can (or sometimes you can't) recognize yourself. suzanne's language speaks back to her, helps to define her and her work. this, to me, is what a true voice is. but suzanne is aware that language is a tool, a means to an end, something in between. it isn't an aim in itself. and, as something in between, it must change as we who use it go along our personal journeys in life and seek to express them. that's an unfinished job, sure, and so language is also an unfinished job, the struggle she mentions. but that's different from knowing you have found your language's face. it changes, yes, but you know it'll speak to you and for you. this is what i meant. and again, it's just the way i feel it.

hi anna: i understand what you mean. i just added something else. actually were it not for your first post i would not have written mine. your words made mine possible. that's the beauty of language: it triggers itself by contact and hopefully triggers something in us, something that seeks words to express it, whether we manage to find them or not.

and hi sue: welcome back. i read your post and i chose to make a comment about it here, in this thread, because i too find a connection and i found it through language, your language. those words ("the phenomenon called "i" is one blue light. it is one blue light radiating from an electric current") fit so incredibly well in suzanne's universe. and the wish of someone changing "herself from the inside out" and wanting to just be acknowledged run through suzanne's body of work like a vein of pulsating blood. i wish i'd seen even just one show of that performance. thanks for your words and for sharing your experience.

---

chance is the only thing that doesn't happen by chance

I love this Language thread. Just like language, it goes on flowing and growing and changing...

I agree with Fatima about the idea of finding one's own language, in the sense (I think) of the best way of expressing oneself, one's own ideas and feelings. I would also add that Suzanne uses more than one language at the same time, that might make it easier for her...she uses music as well as words, they melt together and thus express feelings in ways that plain spoken words may not be able to do. So maybe that's why you find it difficult to find expressions for your feelings, Fatima. I don't know, I'm just guessing.

I also wanted to add my ideas to what Jose said about translation. That's a well-known saying, "to translate is to betray". To me it makes sense and it doesn't at the same time. It makes sense if you want to get the "primary, original, actual intention and effect" that the author of what you're translating had in mind. BUT there are lots of reasons to say that this is nonsense. I'll give you a few that comes upo to my mind now. First, because art works (texts, songs...) are not meant to be taken only according to what those original intentions were. We all know that each of us interprets Suzanne's songs in our own ways and finds different meanings and connections, and they are all right and true in their own ways. Second , because a translation is another art work in itself. Translators put their knowledge and sensibility and actual words in it, and most of those who'll enjoy the translation won't ever know or read the original, so the translation creates and speaks to a partly different world than the source text... Translations are part of the culture whose language they are in, much more than of the one the source text was in... Finally, thinking of what you said, that language in general is some kind of translation and thus a struggle to betray the intended meaning as little as possible (I guess that's what you meant with the comparison)... I don't agree with this idea much. I think that what you call and consider a "betrayal" is actually the way each of us can contribute to make the world and life richer. All the ways in which we interpret and give words to our thoughts and feelings (connected or not to art works...) are relevant and beautiful as such, and not insofar as they more closely resemble a supposed "actual meaning". Words ARE meaning, if you get what I mean. So of course we must put maximum care in how we pick words to express what we have inside...and yet I think we must be aware that the way in which we choose to convey it is in no way a betrayal, but our own relevant contribution to the richness of human life and expression. I think when we try to express ourselves in the best possible way, there's no betrayal and no loss. It's a successful communication, not because we expressed all we wanted in the way we wanted, but because with our words we gave away a little bit of ourselves, we contributed to enrich language by adding our own take, our own meaning. Some important linguistic expert said that what is really relevant in the act of communication is not what the sender and the receiver share in the interpretation of the message, but what they add to it, the differences in their respective interpretations of the message.

So of course we go on struggling to find new and better ways to contribute to all dialogues with our ideas and give expression to our feelings, hoping to find our own language. But I wouldn't think of this as a struggle *against* and *in spite of* these ever-betraying words. Words are our best allies, even if they might need music or visual parts to give a perfect picture of what's inside of us. I think that's why the song LANGUAGE has in a way been left behind. It's not words that can't be trusted, but ourselves. It's not words that don't mean what we meant, but us who are not really sure of what we meant. Wording it can only help us see better. That's why writing is a reward in itself (and I'm quoting something J.C. wrote in another thread...). ;)

That's what I think. I fought against words for ages, until I found out they are actually my best and more helpful friends (and you can see it by the length of this message ;) ...).

Till soon

Miki

OT: Lost In Translation

This discussion reminds me of the 2003 movie Lost In Translation, written and directed by Sofia Coppola. In the movie, two Americans are passing time in Tokyo, exposing themselves to some of the more Japanese aspects of this otherwise very western city. These seemingly different, foreign, weird aspects are an integral part of Japanese modern culture, but to westerners they seem bizarre and unusual. The attempt to bridge this cultural gap in a short period of time is doomed to fail, and so the main characters are inevitably 'lost in translation'.

Of course this is an extreme example of a cultural gap, and may not be relevant to the sort of translation that Miki is talking about. A translation between two close languages (which usually stem from neighboring cultures) can be done, and yet there's always something lost and something added. A culture is a mentality. It is expressed with food, with art, with attitude, with sports, with politics, and perhaps most basically, with the language. An old quote that comes to mind says that the United States and England are two countries divided by a common language, and this fits well with this view of the cultural differences.

So for artistic purposes, translation can only bring more meanings to an artistic creation, but in everyday communications translation must bridge a sometimes impossible gap between two cultures, between two languages.

Miki,

It's "betrayal" in the sense that meanings may be changed, and a careless reader may not be aware they're dealing with an interpretation, not the original ideas.

You're saying that in art that is sometimes the goal, to reinterpret and take pleasure in that dynamic "reading" of a work. I agree completely, but that's something different.

Fátima and me were not talking about the richeness we get from interpreting a work of art, but from the struggle to have our inner voice fully grasped by others as we'd like to. Sometimes it seems impossible. How many people have really understood me completely? Some in some brief moments in time, just that. Those moments when you feel a magical communion with someone guessing your thoughts, feelings and needs. It's magical, because it's rare.

Verbal communication sometimes is too clumsy for that. That's what I see in this song, maybe I'm totally mislead.

j.c.

---

http://www.vega.net
http://setlists.vega.net
http://rustedpipe.vega.net

Yuval,

Of course we must be thankful to translations. How could people communicate otherwise.

But it's good to be aware translations have limits. And if in 95% of the cases you can correctly translate a simple idea, in the other 5%, when you try to go deeper, you may be in troubles. I know what I'm talking about.

By the way, I loved the movie "Lost in Translation", but I don't think the title is well chosen. It's cute, and works well, but if the main characters were surely lost, translation was never their problem, as they never tried to fit in the Japanese society.

All the best,
j.c.

---

http://www.vega.net
http://setlists.vega.net
http://rustedpipe.vega.net

> Verbal communication sometimes is too clumsy for that. That's what I > see in this song, maybe I'm totally mislead. > > j.c.

That's what the song is about for me too, I agree, but what I wanted to say is that I kind of went on from there, and so did Suzanne maybe (in different ways...). You know, when Fatima says she's found her language and thus doesn't sing the song anymore... I wanted to say that I used to think verbal communication is clumsy and thus insufficient, too, but now I changed my mind, and I think verbal communication, in its clumsyness or even because of it, lets us understand ourselves better and thus helps us to open ourselves to others more...Everytime you feel someone didn't understand your words, I think you have the chance to understand yourself better, to try and make clearer your thoughts and feelings to yourself, and thus find other words. I just wanted to say that "struggle" as a bad thing is not what I see in this process. I think words _can_ express what we feel and think, maybe it takes a thousand of them, or just a few very weird ones, but they are a good instrument. Sometimes WE are not that good at seeing inside ourselves and thus we pick the wrong words and only realize it when they're already out there.

As for translations in art works, I was talking of an average good one....IF the translator is good enough, although you can't have a perfect reproduction of the original, it's just as good, actually, it's part of the idea of translating putting in the inevitable changes to convey the language and spirit of the source. That's why, although some bad translations could be a betrayal in a bad sense, the good ones cannot really be called that, in my opinion.

I liked Lost In Translation too...I think the title actually does play with the idea of the Japanese environment, but actually hints at the translation image we are talking about here.... what is inside of us and we try to convey, and what the others get, or what we try to understand of the others...

I also wanted to add something else, about LANGUAGE, connected to the way I feel I kind of moved on from this song. You know the bit: "I'd like to meet you in a timeless placeless place, somewhere out of context, and beyond all consequences..." I used to love this part and think "Yes, that's exactly what I'd want...." This isn't so anymore. Right now I feel the only way to really meet someone is in a time and a place, in a context, with due consequences. Otherwise it wouldn't really make sense. I feel time, space, context and consequences are what we are made of, are what life is made of... I used to feel the "timeless placeless place" would make me feel freer to say and do all I wanted...maybe, but now I think it would also make it all quite irrelevant... And so it is with words. You might feel it could be easier if we could kind of send our thoughts and feelings straight to another soul and mind... but then you wouldn't have to really go through them, you wouldn't have to explain, you wouldn't have to make them relevant with the richness and uniqueness of your search for the right words and language.

That's what I meant, I hope that's clearer. It is for me, now that I had to look for other ways to tell you about it.

Till soon...

Miki

Miki,

You wrote:
Right now I feel the only way to really meet someone is in a time and a place, in a context, with due consequences. Otherwise it wouldn't really make sense.
Sense is meaning, and therefore a direct result of language. Perhaps Suzanne meant that she wishes to lose that sense, that meaning, in order to rise above the bondage of the language. To me, this means transcending the limitations of verbal (or other) communication and, as you put it, send our thoughts and feelings straight to another soul and mind.
We are indeed made of time and place. Does that mean we shouldn't aspire to be more, to reinvent ourselves?

> We are indeed made of time and place. Does that mean we shouldn't > aspire to be more, to reinvent ourselves?

Sure! But I don't feel trapped in myself, my time and place, as much as I used to, and I don't feel language as a bondage that limits me that much anymore. I kind of reinvented myself, as you say, and found out that time and place and context are great things in many ways. I think this idea of a timeless placeless languageless place was a way to run away for me, run away FROM me as well as from the world that didn't seem to ever understand me. That is now changed and so I see the song in a different way too. That's just my experience, of course, it may not be yours.

This doesn't mean that I couldn't see myself in a different world where time and place meant nothing and I could share ideas and feelings with no need for words. Why do you think I love fantasy books and sci-fi stuff so much? ;))

Miki

Dear Miki,

"I just wanted to say that "struggle" as a bad thing is not what I see in this process."

We agree. The struggle is the positive outcome, it's realising the limitation of languages and, despite of that, being able to try again, as you said.

The only bad thing would be to trust language blindly. It's up to us to be aware of its limitations and find the methods to make it serve our purposes. That's the beauty of it. That's the struggle. And that's what I meant since my first post in this thread. Never taking it for granted, trying always harder, and learning always with it.

Again, that's what I see in the song.

j.c.

---

http://www.vega.net
http://setlists.vega.net
http://rustedpipe.vega.net

since i basically agree with what has been expressed here after my last post (i actually see us arriving at the same core point through different routes) i'll just add a few words on the subject of translation, in a wide meaning.

american poet robert frost once said: "poetry is what gets lost in translation". i don't know when he said this or how he said it exactly since all i have (and i have it for years) is the portuguese translation (of his original sentence) which i just put back into english.

his thought always made me think of these three songs, which, by the way, are interconnected in my personal view: "language", "rusted pipe" and "big space". and he uses the expression "lost in translation" just like miki attributed to the film's title and plot. suzanne uses something similar when she sings, "all feeling falls into the big space", and thus is apparently lost, but then inside this "somewhere deep within" place we are invited to "hear the creak, that lets the tale begin". these thoughts (which are one and the same to me) are just so beautiful and hopeful: when we try to translate who we are we are probably bound to lose or miss, but, during the process, we may trigger something we probably didn't expect, a "tale" or "poetry", which might be just beginning (a "creak"). it's the process that counts, always, and this thought is so pivotal in suzanne's work.

---

chance is the only thing that doesn't happen by chance

I'm just amazed at the few clear beautiful words it took Fatima to say what I barely began saying in so many posts. ;) And quoting two more SV songs, and favourite bits of mine!

The Robert Frost quote is exactly like you wrote, BTW.

Till soon...

Miki

I was thinking about this song again after i've read your posts.This song was a favourite to me ever since i can remember.
What you've all said is completely right. But there is a thing about this song that has always caught my attention and that i wish to mention. Its about the "if"s and the wishes expressed.

Using a 1st person to express this: There are no words to make you understand if you cannot comprehend the realms in my mind. What i wish for us will get lost in my imagination.
Words are just a way to express ourselves, and the fact that there are no words that can make you connect to my mind, this will make my illusions gone along with what i wish reality were.It's not only about the words, moreover it is about the endless gap between us that seems cannot be solved.So instead, there is silence, "and it's gone, gone".

This is my personal view of the song, which doesn't focus so much in language.
Keep always happy,
Paulo

---

- Are you serious?
- Yes, i am. I'm your guardian angel.
- Amazing!I've never believed in that.Am i dead?
- No. You're just hallucinating.

Miki mentioned the part: "I'd like to meet you in a timeless, placeless place" which reminded me of a mental link I use to make with the song: "Some Journey".

I think it's pretty obvious: the need to escape physical and limiting realities, the hope that in a complete change of circumstances people (and Suzanne herself) would free themselves in a way they'd be closer to their inner instincts and feelings, their true selves.

I won't elaborate more about it now, but it's a concept very dear to me, and some of the lines regarding this, on both songs, became part of me.

j.c.

---

http://www.vega.net
http://setlists.vega.net
http://rustedpipe.vega.net

I don't know, Jose_Carlos, how you would elaborate. Maybe what I want to say is what you had in mind, maybe not. However, the timeless, placeless place does feel like this for me, but there's something else I think, quite difficult to define.
I feel that place is the place of the truth, not only the place of freedom. Well, that's pretty hard to explain, but to me it's a place where you are fully yourself, that is, really nothing : there are lots of possibilities in front of you, you might be this or that, but inside there's nothing BUT one thing, the pure feeling of life. Meaning, it's not your life; it's life, and you're but a part of it.
Reminds me something that happened to me. It was during a concert. Not a Suzanne concert, it was a piano concert of Schuman concerto in A minor. During the intermezzo, when the piano plays very long and soft trills, I suddenly noticed everybody in the theatre was holding his breath, because those trills were really beautifull, and fragile too.
Then something happened to me - I can't say what exactly - and I felt I could breathe like I had never breathed before. That may sound a bit dumb, said like that, but I thought at that moment that life, I mean my life, didn't matter at all, and I was glad of it. I was no longer of any significance.
Well, back to the topic, when I hear this line of Suzanne Vega, it always remind me of such moments : they are out of time and space, so that you're free, certainly, but not only in a psycholgical way. You're free of yourself too. Don't know if it makes sense.

Of course, it may not be at all what SV had in mind when she wrote the song, but it seems to me there is something almost religious in it. It was there for a moment, and it's gone but it will never disappear.

A bit further : we could say those moments are the only ones where you are in the very heart of language. You're not using it, from the outside, you're an elusive whisper yourself.