thử dịch Nguyễn Ngọc Tư

 

My quick and (very) dirty translation for a part of A Disappearance at Thư Viên (Biến mất ở Thư Viên), which was included in her collection of short stories The Island (Đảo). This is from a failed attempt at trying to translate the whole short story.

   After that, I came to know that Hảo only held them books for fun to pass the long and weary nights at Thư Viên. She was not married and had no man to practice stupid things such as “Look deeply into his eyes” or “Wake him up with a delicious meal” that are shown in the books. Every Wednesday, she visited Thư Viên, took a round, wavered between two fiction shelves for a while and tried imagining how Sinh had vanished from this place: Sinh would go from the dictionary section and turned to the skill-building section in order to approach the door near where she was standing. If so, why did she not have a slightest feeling or not realize his familiar scent as he was passing by? Or, Sinh would go straight into the white wall, like when they roll up the curtain, and disappear among all the hustles.

   “What if he's entered those books?”

   Hảo asked me on one occasion, her eyes sparkled because of the new thought that suddenly sprouted in her head. It made her start devouring books despite the fact she often complained how it would make her choked to death if she happened to read, how sleepy she became if she held one book, and how she would rather eat than read a book.