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The Setting Lake Sun

by (author) J.R. Léveillé

translated by S.E. Stewart

Publisher
Signature Editions
Initial publish date
Sep 2011
Subjects
Literary
  • eBook

    ISBN
    9781897109595
    Publish Date
    Sep 2011
    List Price
    $9.99

Library Ordering Options

Description

Le soleil du lac qui se couche/The Setting Lake Sun, J.R. Léveillé's first novel set in his native Manitoba, describes the unforgettable encounter of Angèle, an aspiring young Métis architect, with Ueno Takami, an older Japanese poet. The story begins when they meet at an art gallery in Winnipeg, a city surprisingly rich both physically, in its architecture, and culturally, with its mix of heritage and customs brought by people who have emigrated there from all over the world. From Winnipeg Angèle and Ueno head north through the wilds to Thompson. Narrated by Angèle, who is remembering her feelings of excitement, surprise and wonder at the discoveries inspired by the Japanese artist, The Setting Lake Sun is as much a love story as a spiritual journey, a celebration of life in all its incompleteness, imperfection, and impermanence. This bilingual version includes both the original French and the English translation.

About the authors

Born in Winnipeg, J.R. Léveillé is the author of over thirty books of poetry, fiction and essays published in Canada and abroad. He is the most widely reviewed contemporary Western Canadian Francophone author. An international symposium on his work was held in 2005. Leveille has won numerous literary awards, including the Manitoba Lifetime Writing and Publishing Award. Le soleil du lac qui se couche/The Setting Lake Sun has amassed numerous accolades, including winner of the Prix Champlain, winner of Le Prix Litteraire Rue-Deschambault, Very Honourable Mention--John Glassco Translation Award, and shortlisted for the Carol Shields Winnipeg Book Award. It was chosen by readers as the winner in Manitoba's On the Same Page competition in 2011.

J.R. Léveillé's profile page

S.E. Stewart has translated poetry, plays, film scripts and fiction, as well as various non-fiction texts on literary, performing, visual and media arts. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of British Columbia and studied translation at the Université Laval.

S.E. Stewart's profile page

Awards

  • Winner, On the Same Page

Excerpt: The Setting Lake Sun (by (author) J.R. Léveillé; translated by S.E. Stewart)

77

En rentrant dans le bureau de Frank, j'ai vu Ueno et Sara penchés sur des épreuves d'images et de textes. Ils ont levé les yeux quand ils nous ont sentis entrer et ont tourné simultanément la tête vers nous.

- Ah, Angèle! a fait Sara, tout simplement.

- Quelle belle surprise, a dit Ueno. Frank m'a averti qu'il y aurait de la visite aujourd'hui, je ne pouvais m'imaginer... Ta chevelure en queue de cheval, ça te va très bien. Et j'aime tes baskets.

Ueno portait un t-shirt marron, une vieille veste en lin kaki décolorée, des jeans et ses bottes de travail.

Il m'a serré la main de telle façon que j'en ai perdu le souffle.

*

77

 

As I entered Frank's office I saw Ueno and Sara huddled over the proofs of illustrations and text. They raised their eyes when they felt us come in and simultaneously turned their heads to us.

"Ah, Angèle!" said Sara, quite simply.

"What a wonderful surprise," said Ueno. "Frank told me there would be a visitor today, but I never imagined... You look good with your hair in a ponytail. And I like your shoes."

Ueno had on a reddish-brown T-shirt, a jacket of faded khaki linen, jeans and his work boots.

He shook my hand in a way that left me breathless.

*

78

Je l'ai salué, timidement, mais avec un plaisir visible, il me semble. J'ai embrassé Sara, et Frank m'a préparé un cappuccino.

- Comment te portes-tu? a ajouté Ueno. Et il a en-chaîné, en se retournant vers la table de travail: Nous terminons un petit quelque chose et on prend une pause.

- Ne vous dérangez pas pour moi, ai-je dit. Pas du tout, c'est ce que j'imaginais entendre -- une politesse -- mais il a bien dit:

- Au contraire.

Je ne sais pourquoi, j'ai dit une banalité en prenant une gorgée de café:

- Ce sont vos poèmes?

- Oui. Vous allez les traduire.

*

78

I said hello, timidly, but with a pleasure that must have been plain for all to see. I kissed Sara and Frank prepared a cappuccino for me.

"How are you?" Ueno asked. Turning back to the work table, he continued, "We'll just finish up this one little thing and then we'll take a break."

"Don't stop on my account," I said.

"Not at all," is what I expected to hear -- a mere politeness--but instead he said, "On the contrary."

I don't know why, but I blurted out a platitude, something like, "Are those your poems?"

"Yes. And you're going to translate them."

*

79

Frank m'a regardée avec un air d'émerveillement et un petit signe italien qui, j'imagine, voulait dire: Hé! hé!

Moi, je suis restée abasourdie, ne sachant quoi répliquer. J'entendais les voix d'Ueno et de Sara comme une rumeur lointaine. Je voyais un échafaudage de feuilles couleur de papier bible, les caractères dansaient comme tant de lucioles noires.

C'est beaucoup dire que je pensais m'évanouir. Il reste que, soudain, je me suis retrouvée dans la pénombre, devant moi une petite lanterne allumée.

*

79

Frank looked at me in wonder and made a small Italian gesture that I suppose means, Hey, hey!

As for me, I was dumbfounded, with no idea what to say. I heard the voices of Ueno and Sara run on like a distant hum. I could see a welter of sheets the colour of India paper, and letters swarming like black fireflies.

I would be exaggerating if I said I thought I would faint. But I suddenly found myself engulfed in a kind of darkness, with a small lantern shining out before me.

*

80

Puis cela a passé. Nous avons en effet pris une pause. Ueno est sorti dans la rue et a acheté des hot-dogs à un marchand ambulant. Puis nous avons mangé dans le bureau. Frank est allé chercher une de ses cruches de vin.

- Du vin de riz? a demandé Ueno en plaisantant.

- À peu près, a répondu Frank.

Moi, je regardais les deux ou trois poèmes dont on avait tiré les épreuves. Le caractère était simple et stylisé à la fois, on le voyait. L'effet par contre avait quelque chose de primitif, de fait à la main. Frank a expliqué que c'étaient toutes d'anciennes lettres de plomb comme il ne s'en fabriquait plus. L'oeil et le corps variaient donc légèrement de l'une à l'autre. Ueno lui a dit: Il y a de la beauté dans l'imparfait.

Et à moi penchée sur le texte: Tu vas les traduire. Il a dit cela avec la même certitude que la première fois que je l'ai rencontré et qu'il a dit: Toi, tu es Métisse. Sans exclamation, sans question. Avec la confiance de celui qui sait. Une espèce de science infuse.

- Oh non! je ne peux pas. Je n'ai jamais fait ça. Je n'ai pas les aptitudes.

- Oui, vous le pouvez.

- Qu'est-ce qui vous fait dire cela?

- C'est en raison de votre double nature.

- Vous parlez français. Vous devriez le faire vous-même.

- Tu sais...

Il passait du tu au vous lorsqu'il m'adressait la parole. Je ne sais pas s'il s'en rendait compte ou si, comme il disait:

- ...ma maîtrise de la langue n'est pas si grande.

- Moi non plus. Je n'ai pas de compétences particulières et...

- Non, non. Je sens que tu vas le faire. Tu t'intéresses aux arts, à la littérature, à l'architecture; et la traduction, c'est une espèce d'édifice.

- J'aime beaucoup celui-ci.

- Ah! le poème des oies et des grenouilles. Pourquoi?

- Parce qu'il me ressemble.

*

80

Then it passed. They did actually take a break. Ueno went out on the street to buy hot dogs from a vendor's wagon. We ate them in the office. Frank brought us one of his jugs of wine.

"Rice wine?" Ueno asked him jokingly.

"Almost," replied Frank.

I was looking at the two or three poems of which proofs had been printed. The lettering was at once simple and stylized, that was clear. But it produced a somewhat primitive look, of something handmade. Frank explained that they had used old-fashioned lead type of a kind that was no longer manufactured. As a result, there were slight variations from letter to letter in the opening and the body. Ueno told him, "There is beauty in imperfection."

Then he leaned over to me and gently repeated, "You're going to translate them." He said it with the same certainty as the first time I met him when he said, "You're Métis, aren't you?" Not an exclamation, nor really a question. With the confidence of one who knows. A sort of innate knowledge.

"Oh, no. I've never done that kind of thing. I have no talent for it. I couldn't."

"Yes, you can."

"What makes you say that?"

"It's because of your dual nature."

"You can speak French. You should do it yourself."

"You know..." When he addressed me, he would go freely from "vous" to "tu" and back again, formal to informal, sometimes in the same sentence. I don't know if he was doing it consciously or whether, as he said, "...my mastery of the language is not that good."

"Neither is mine. I don't have any particular skills and...;"

"No, no. I have a feeling you can do it. You are interested in the arts, in literature, in architecture, and translation is a form of construction."

I turned to the proofs. "I like this one very much."

"Ah, the poem about the geese and the frogs. Why?"

"Because it's like me."

*

81

- C'est un peu mélancolique, ai-je ajouté après une pause.

- Un peu, en un sens.

- Pas complètement.

- Non, pas tout à fait.

- C'est joyeux en même temps.

- C'est naturel. Vous voyez, vous avez déjà une grande sensibilité pour votre travail.

- Je ne sais pas...

- Mais oui! D'ailleurs, il n'y a pas de mal à échouer. Cette traduction, elle sera pour toi. Et ça me fera un grand plaisir, a-t-il chuchoté avec le plus gentil sourire du monde. Puis il a ajouté: Les oies, c'est moi. Les grenouilles, c'est toi.

*

81

"It's a bit sad," I added, after a pause.

"A bit, in a way."

"Not completely."

"No, not altogether."

"At the same time it's joyful."

"That's natural. You see, you already have a great sensitivity for the work."

"I don't know..."

"Of course! On the other hand, there's nothing wrong with failure. The translation will be for you alone. And it will give me great pleasure," he whispered with the gentlest smile in the world. Then he added, "The geese, that's me. The frogs, that's you."

Editorial Reviews

This quiet, elegantly suspended story generates an aura that is softly enfolding, stirring respect for elusive connections and a gentle engagement with mysteries.

The Globe and Mail