Queen Berta and King Pippin, yet again

I'm giving a house concert of "Queen Berta and King Pippin" tomorrow. Am I working on the story now? No. I'm simultaneously stalling and chastising myself for not working on it. This is my pattern. I know it, it happens often with large projects, and yet...

Still, I did work on "Queen Berta and King Pippin," a.k.a. "Berte aus grans pies" or "Berthe aux grands pieds," intensively while I was in Belgium. Because I didn't have performances every day, I set myself the task of translating the story into English. I began this two years ago, working from the Old French (OF). That was before I dug up the Modern French (MF) version (published in 1897, and delivered by mail from Belgium, coincidentally). I read the whole thing several times and slogged through translating about half of the OF. The last time I studied OF was 26 years ago.

I didn't need to prove to myself that I could translate the OF. What I wanted most was the story, so I worked on the translation from MF. Adenet Li Rois, the author of this Medieval work wrote it originally in verse. The MF version was in prose. Much easier. In both, there's lots of repetition, likely because the story was intended to be read aloud and that way the listeners could have a short reminder of where the reader left off in the previous session.

I did it! I finished on the Wednesday before I came home, fortunate as my friend had warned me that she wouldn't take me to the airport if I wasn't finished (my sweetie at home, when I told him this on the phone, said something along the lines of, "Ahem. I'll come get you in that case").

It was incredibly satisfying to get to the last page (165 in the book, translated to 70 in a single-spaced Word document), to chapter CXLIV.

Before I finished the translation, I told it twice in Belgium, also at Marie's kitchen table. You might remember that I told the story last year at the Going Deep Long Traditional Story Retreat, and I told it a few other times. Each telling gets a little richer.

I'm planning to run through it tomorrow morning, possibly on a walk where I can't interrupt myself to do laundry or bake bread or vacuum the living room or engage in any number of other stalling techniques.

Music, dance, poetry, clowning, puppets--and even a little storytelling!

What a nice day yesterday was. I sat in a coffee shop and wrote while I waited for my laundry to be finished, wandered around a bit, had a big lunch (wishing I'd remembered to take a picture of the buffet), and eventually met Pati at SESC where we watched a show for children called As Aventuras de Bambolina, based on the book by Michele Iaccoca. It's put on by the group Pia Fraus, which from their website I see means "a lie told with good intentions." 

It's a combination of live actors with puppets and dolls, with no words. Bambolina herself is a big floppy doll (manipulated by the actors as a puppet) who gets thrown away by a child but who continues to live on, taken in by various people. She finds her own true life in the end. It's a lovely show. The audience was packed, mostly families with small children. Some of the tinies got alarmed at a scary police siren and a couple of other tense scenes, but they calmed down and thoroughly enjoyed the show. As did Pati and I.

From there we wandered back to the neighborhood where my hotel is and had a snack at a temaki place. Yum.

Then we stopped off at my hotel so I could change clothes. We met Pati's sister Cris and her partner Fernando, and off we went to an evening of music, dance, poetry, clowning, puppets and even a little storytelling at the house of Regina Machado, probably Brazil's most-honored and respected storyteller. It was wonderful to meet her--I wish I had more time so we could sit down and talk story. Next visit, I guess.

Regina has a lovely studio on a hill behind her house, with a covered outdoor performance space underneath it. I was deeply jealous! It was all well-organized, with candles, flowers, plenty of seats, and food and drinks for sale. Old friends greeted each other in an atmosphere of pleasant anticipation.

I really wish I'd brought my camera to the sarau. There must have been over 100 people there, happy to be enjoying the arts together. I knew there was a chance I would be asked to tell a story, but I wasn't sure until Regina sat me and Cris down to discuss it a little beforehand.

I was in the second half of the show. In the first, there was poetry, dance, and puppets. Chita the clown was emcee for the second half, so when it was my turn, we played a little first. Then I told The Great Sharp Scissors by Philippa Pearce, and Pati translated. I don't think I've ever had a translator before, other than sign language. I did step on Pati's lines a few times, but she did a stellar job. Just as I began, it started to rain, so the people in the back weren't able to hear as well, but those close in were listening attentively, laughing at all the right parts, even joining in the small bit of participation I build into the story.

When I was done, there was more music, poetry, clowning, and of course dance. The evening ended with a big dance, and everybody was invited to join in. That was a tremendous end to the evening.

This was also the night to turn the clocks forward, so when I turned out my light in the hotel, the new time was 2:45. I fell right asleep, content.

Tell the World: Storytelling Across Language Barriers

A few weeks ago the UPS man stopped by. Must be a Christmas present. Strange, it was from a publisher, Libraries Unlimited. Huh?

I had completely forgotten my contribution to Margaret Read MacDonald's book, Tell the World: Storytelling Across Language Barriers. This copy was my payment for contributing. I sat right down and started reading. If I've counted right, there are 39 contributors to the book, all of whom have experience performing across languages. It's a fascinating look at what works and what doesn't.

My article is about telling stories in French when I travel to Belgium. Usually I perform in English, but there's one school where I usually perform in French (didn't get there last time) and I tell stories in French to my friends.

In the article, I talk about how I prepare for performances by telling to the friends with whom I stay, how I've learned to ask the listeners for help, how I choose the most appropriate stories for the audience and my own language level. I also say a little about telling stories in other languages to kids here in the US.

Some of the articles in the book are about telling with translators, some are about telling to deaf audiences with a translator, some are about using stories in language instruction, some are about traveling as a storyteller. Reading the last section made me think of the funny connection I made with a little girl on the bus from Turkey to Bulgaria a couple of years ago.


I had a seagull puppet and she had a Barbie. Those were the languages we had in common. We got along swimmingly.