The Translation of Father Torturo: Chapter Four

Chapter Four

   At the Parma station, he was met by a young priest from the seminary, with a very high forehead showing the signs of early hair loss.

     “Xaverio Torturo I presume?”

     “Yes.”

     “Very well, come with me,” the priest said, placing his hand on Xaverio’s shoulder and guiding him out of the station. “You are a very handsome boy. Strong shoulders. You should do well,”

     Xaverio felt very much like breaking the fellow’s fingers and telling him to go to hell, but he did not. He remembered the last words of Father Falzon and, lowering his gaze to the ground, kept silent. Pleased, the young priest smiled and patted him on the back.

     Torturo’s grip was put in the trunk of a two seater. The priest unlocked the passenger’s side, threw the keys in the air and, jauntily catching them in the other hand, stepped around to the driver’s side. As they drove through the streets and then on to the edge of town where the seminary was, the priest never ceased talking, in his clipped, slightly arrogant voice, telling the boy about the town, its history and benefits, the seminary itself, the staff and the noteworthy students. On the whole it was a well practiced speech, one Xaverio was sure had been used on numerous others. He made a mental note to despise this young priest. The fellow’s instant familiarity disgusted him to no small degree, and was a gross but prognostic taste of what life was to be away from home.

     “Are you enjoying yourself?” the priest smiled, showing his teeth.

     “Immensely,” Xaverio replied.

     He was determined to play his hand strategically.

     At the seminary he was immediately introduced to the rector, an ash-coloured man with wide, pseudo-ecstatic eyes, who said to him:

     “You have been born in lawful wedlock, have surpassed your twelfth year, and have indicated that you wish to be of service to the Church. You are here so that we may form Christ in you, for thereafter you are to form Christ in others.”

     Xaverio’s nature was such that, whatever he did, fair or foul, he put his whole nature into it. The basic courses at the seminary were for him a simple matter. His spare time he devoted to his own studies and training in the gymnasium. He read like one possessed, lifted weights, boxed and practised hand stands. At night, while the other boys slept, he devoted himself to rigorous meditation in the chapel. That there were things supramundane, things which were hidden from everyday eyes and mute to everyday ears, he knew through reading. It was not possible that there could be so many reports of the fantastic without them having any foundation in reality. The Holy Bible and the Lives of the Saints and desert fathers were full of the supernatural, not to mention all those numerous accounts he had come across in his other readings. Much of the material he had studied under Father Falzon’s care certainly had a mystical flavour to it. He felt reasonably confident that the paranormal was an actual thing. It held great attraction for him; he was fascinated with the notion of miracles and aspired to gain a bit of mystical authority. All wicked temperaments like power, and it has been generally acknowledged that the greater part of the power of the universe is hidden. What was hidden, he desired to find, without in the least equating it with a straying from his religion. Some say that magic is but a disease, a corruption of religion, while others maintain that it is the natural preliminary phase of all religions. He found the former view to be hypocritical, inwardly professed the latter and, in the end, followed a creed all his own.

Barbagia

Director: Carlo Lizzani

Year: 1969

This is a real gem by Carlo Lizzani. Or maybe gem is the wrong word, as this is not a particularly refined, precious picture, but rather a choppy ride through Sardinia, where we follow the bandit Graziano (played by Terrence Hill) and his Spanish sidekick Miguel (played by Don Backy) as they kidnap the children of rich land owners and hold them for ransom. The whole is done in a semi-documentary style, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it relates real events. This is actually the best role I have seen Hill in, and it is a real shame he did not do more like it. As for Don Backy, he is always interesting to watch. To further add to the great cast, there is Frank Wolff, who masterfully plays a sleazebag lawyer.

Great cinematography. Great score, by Don Backy, interestingly enough, who seems to have had some kind of reputation as a singer in the 60s. Yet another film definitely in need of restoration and proper DVD release.  

The Translation of Father Torturo: Chapter Three

 Chapter Three

     The parents of Xaverio Torturo were liquidated, due to a vendetta, when he was a boy of six. Found in the back bedroom of their palazzo, bodies chastised with more bullet holes then there are days in a week, and then severed into as many pieces as there are weeks in a year, they were the victims of a kind of crime which, to this day, is not uncommon in Italy. Undoubtedly he would have met the same fate, such revenges usually extending to the second and third generations, if he had not at the time been at his uncle Guido’s house, playing at marbles with his cousin Marco, who was but a year younger than himself. When the news came that young Xaverio’s house was wet with blood, he remained at his uncle’s. Guido, according to the laws of vengeance, rooted out the murderers and did them one worse than was done to his own brother and sister in law. The uncle, adopting Xaverio into his household, became more like a father than an uncle; Marco more like a brother than a cousin.

     “There is something funny about this boy,” Guido’s wife Bruna said to her husband one night. “I am afraid he will bring us trouble.”

     “Oh, I admit he is a bit naughty,” Guido said with a shrug of his shoulders, “but that just proves that he has blood and not water in his veins. Frankly I am more worried about Marco; he is obedient at school, never complains and has yet to be caught stealing so much as an apple from the neighbour’s tree.”

     “Caro figliuolo,” Bruna sighed, thinking of her son.

     Xaverio was certainly considered a wicked child. After class, he often beat the smaller boys mercilessly. The larger boys, those closer to his own size, he generally refrained from fighting. Instead, he simply humiliated them by time and again bettering them at sports and thrusting the knife of his tongue into their sides. No one dared cross him at school because it was known that his uncle was un assassino, and his nephew therefore, if not demanding the utmost respect, was certainly not a boy to have as an enemy.

The Translation of Father Torturo: Chapter Two

Chapter Two 

     “It is a tragedy.”

     “It is a crisis which must be overcome.”

     “Have the police had any luck whatsoever in tracking down the vile culprits?”

     “None. None whatsoever.”

     “And who do they suspect? There are rumours flying about, but they might easily have been created by the press. These journals, for the most part, are highly unscrupulous.”

     Cardinal Zuccarelli nodded his thin head in agreement. “Unfortunately,” he said, “the speculations engaged in by the papers are as solid as our own. We have no more facts than they. As many valuables were left behind, I don’t think it is a case of, as the Theodosian Code says, nemo martyrem mercetur, selling them, but more of some variety of sinister plot. If it was simply a matter of material gain I scarcely think that paintings by Tiepolo, Mantegna and Veronese would have been left behind.”

     “I personally would not be surprised if it was the work of the Jews,” Bishop Vivan ejaculated with a sneer.

     “It might as easily be Muslim radicals,” the cardinal said, stroking the white mouse which sat perched in his pocket with one finger.

     “Or the Buddhists.”

     “Indeed the Buddhists. Orientals will stop at nothing. They are quiet, but their very silence makes them all the more ominous.”

     “Well, at least the jaw was not taken,” Vivan said presently.

     “True, but the tongue is what people come to see. For some reason it is the tongue that fascinates, not the jaw.”

     The two men walked through the Prato della Valle, along one of the two straight paths that cut through the quadri-triangular landmark. Statues encircled the zone, adding an extreme measure of elegance to the scene, with their manneristic gestures and antique solemnity, that seemed to rub off on the holy pair as they strolled along, gracing the ground with their feet.

Afyon Oppio

Director: Ferdinando Baldi

Year: 1972

English Title: The Sicilian Connection 

First scene: Funeral. Sicily. Women dressed in black. Rough looking characters with moustaches. A policeman asks to investigate the interior of the coffin, and so it is opened. “Undress the body,” he says. The shirt of the corpse, which has been returned home from abroad, is unbuttoned, revealing a stitched up chest. “And that?” Moustached man opens wound with stiletto. Bags of morphine. But an unlucky cop, as the mafia stuffs him in the coffin and nails the lid shut.

Thereafter, some wonderful scenes in Turkey, including one about opium production which seems to have inspired a certain scene in the recent Hong Kong film Protege. Yes, there are also a number of camp episodes, such as Turkey disco dancing, but it’s all good fun.

Looking at IMDB, I noticed that, while this film has an overall good rating, those who left comments did not seem to think much of it. My conclusion is that this is because they all saw the English version. Now, though it is true that Ben Gazzara is American and was clearly saying his lines in English, one should pretty much never choose to see the English version of Italian films. The reason is this: Pretty much all Italian films were made without live sound. The sound was always added in the studio. So, very often, they would get an international cast together and everyone would more or less just mouth their lines-in the 60’s and 70’s often enough in English, even though most of the actors did not speak English. Then several versions would be made, Italian, English, German, etc. The English speaking actors would often not even dub their own voices. The Italians always would. Furthermore, when dubbing foreign actors, Italians pretty much always do a good job. They are true experts at dubbing, and very often American films are actually better in their Italian versions. The latest Star Wars films are a good example. The English versions simply suck, but in the Italian, the princess’s awful California accent is exchanged for a very enticing Italian voice. Anyhow, a lot of the B movies from the 60’s and 70’s were released to an English speaking audience dubbed, unlike the films of guys like Fellini, who I suppose they were trying to sell to a different audience. And this is a real shame, because I think many of these films would be much more appreciated if people could see them in their Italian versions with English subtitles. 

Achtung! Editors!

Authors hear a lot about what editors are looking for. Rules for submitting etc. I thought I would write some rules that I think editors should follow:

1) Reply to submissions and emails in a prompt manner. A lack of communication is a large fault and sends out a signal that you don’t really care much about the author or their work.

2) I really don’t like to have a manuscript rejected accompanied by an in depth critique of my work. These always come from non-professional editors-folks who don’t actually get paid to edit, but have set up their own zines. Almost never do professional editors do this. Yes, they might say something about how they really liked it, but decided not to publish it, but generally they leave it at that. Accept or reject the manuscript. You shouldn’t be giving lengthy feedback unless you want a rewrite.

3) After accepting a manuscript, an editor should publish it in a timely manner. I shouldn’t have to note the time between acceptance and publication by how many inches my hair line has receded.

4) If an editor accepts something, they have an obligation to publish it. Telling an author a year later that you have changed your mind is very bad form. Remember, it takes a hell of a lot of time and energy to write something.

5) When an editor publishes something, they should promote it. Being stingy with review copies, not getting the work out there, in the end makes the thing almost not worth doing.

6) An editor should actually edit. Just accepting a manuscript and printing it is not acceptable. If you have accepted a manuscript without suggesting a single change, you probably are doing something wrong. All manuscripts have at least some small factual or grammatical errors. It is your job to find these. Having a reader is also helpful. It is true however, that with flash fiction or poetry, the case is a bit different, as a story of 300 words might well be perfect just how it is.

7) Editors should pay what they say they will pay. Not getting paid is a very unpleasant thing.

The Translation of Father Torturo: Chapter One

 

  Chapter One

 

     When Father Torturo awoke it was 3 a.m.

     He climbed out of the confessional, the base of his black robe riding up, as did the leg of the pants beneath, revealing an olive coloured, hairy strip of limb, the ankle dancing in a limp sock, the foot filling out a well polished shoe.

     “Oof!” he said, cracking his back. “What an uncomfortable place to fall asleep in.”

     He rubbed his forehead, stretched himself and blinked his eyes – two glassy balls, sangue de Cristo, nearly as red as the glasses of merlot he had indulged in earlier: a bottle between himself and Bishop Vivan, and then a second to himself while alone in his room reading over the Dissertatio Epistologica de Ortu Animai Humanae of Gaultero Charleton.

     A man in his mid to late-thirties, of good build, with an aquiline nose and black, slightly thinning, streaked-with-silver hair, Father Torturo was, at least from appearances, the standard Italian Catholic priest. His features were sombre and serious. Amongst his brothers he was known for his thorough knowledge of scripture and adamantine devotion to the calling; the lay-people admired him for his steady demeanour and the sound brevity of his advice.

Recently Seen Films: Quick Comments

No Country For Old Men: Very good, though the last third doesn’t keep the pace quite like the beginning. Still, worth a look.

The Brave One: I lasted 10 minutes through this. Yawn.

The Host: Brilliant Brilliant Brilliant. We should be grateful for Kang-ho Song, a truly wonderful actor.

Brothers: A bit of a let down. Hong Kong action flic with out much action and a too small role for Andy Lau.

Protege: A much better Anday Lau flic. Definately worth a look, though it is odd that both this one and brothers had unconvincing ‘ironic’ endings. A new Hong Kong trend?

Rescue Dawn: Good, but what’s with the Rah Rah ending and the rather bad score?

Charlie Wilson’s War: The first Tom Hanks film that I can actually say I liked. 

Bandidos

Director: Massimo Dallamano

Year: 1967

A pretty good western; camera work excellent, with some shots being actually brilliant.

There is one scene in particular that is an absolute masterpiece where some bandidos set up an ambush in a bar. Lots of interesting camera angles, including one from the inside of a sombrero.

Though the movie is quite good, it doesn’t quite gel. This is probably because the lead actors never seem to be able to bring the sort of on-screen charisma necessary to make the film truly great, though Enrico Maria Salerno comes very close. Still, definitely worth a look, particularly for fans of the genre. Here is the trailer, which is very cool.

Ladro Lui, Ladra Lei

Director: Luigi Zampa

Year: 1958

Though this film never seems to have been released to an English speaking audience, I would translate the title as: He’s a Thief, She’s a Thief.

The story is about a brother (Alberto Sordi) and sister (Sylva Koscina) who are thieves in Rome-performing some very clever tricks to con various people.

For the most part, is pretty standard stuff, but Alberto Sordi elevates the whole production a considerable degree, especially in three or four scenes where he is especially brilliant, and which I believe he had a hand in constructing. Of course, comedy doesn’t do very well when described, especially Sordi’s, which really depends a lot on his tone of voice, hand gestures and timing-apart from simply the situations.

It is truly a shame that this actor isn’t better known to English speaking audiences, as his best stuff is truly world class.