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Rapunzel

The Frog King

Review of Tangled

Review of The Princess and the Frog

For the final project, I selected two traditional fairy tales, Rapunzel and The Frog King, and two reviews of modern takes on the same fairy tales.

I began the project with machine translation, using the google translator toolkit to give a rough translation of each text. I then went through the texts paragraph by paragraph, dissecting the machine translation and refinining it. Machine translation worked best with the two fairy tales because of their simple sentence structure. Translating the two articles, which contained more complex ideas and sentence structure, presented more of a challenge.

One of the most troubling issues I ran into was how to translate the text. What tone should I take? Would a literal, albeit clunky translation be the most accurate, or should I seek to capture the spirit of the text? With all four of the texts, I eventually decided to try for a natural-sounding English translation, with a more traditional fairytale tone for the two fairy tales, and a more professional tone for the two articles. This meant dividing up long run-on sentences and occasionally adding information to clarify different points.

The first text I translated was the fairy tale Rapunzel. Right off the bat, I was presented with a problem: how should rapunzel be translated? Research revealed that rapunzel is a type of lettuce, called corn salad or lamb’s lettuce. So I could translate rapunzel into either of those. But then it would no longer be clear why the girl is given the name Rapunzel. And just leaving it as rapunzel would be confusing for younger readers, who might not know what sort of plant rapunzel is, or that it’s even a plant at all – a problem I remember having a child. The best solution seemed to be leaving rapunzel untranslated and adding in more information, clarifying it as a type of lettuce. At the beginning of my translation, I attempted to give a more literal, word-for-word translation, keeping the run-on sentences and occasionally odd phrasing. However, this soon became awkward and clunky, and I decided to try for a natural-sounding translation instead.

A similar problem as that in Rapunzel awaited me in The Frog Prince, namely, the title, and how to translate it. The literal translation of Der Froschkönig is not The Frog Prince, but The Frog King. Although The Frog Prince is traditionally the English title, and the frog is referred to as both a prince and a king in the story, I used The Frog King as the final title. In this case the desire for an accurate translation overrode the need to adhere to traditional English precedents. It could also be argued that The Frog Prince refers to the story where the princess breaks the spell by kissing the frog and The Frog King refers to the story where the princess breaks the spell by throwing the frog against the wall. For the most part the translation of the text was simple. The exception was the word ‘Wasserpatscher’ which is something the princess calls the frog. Online dictionaries failed to supply a  satisfactory translation, but some searching revealed that ‘auf wasserpatscher’ refers to hitting the water with flat, open hands. ‘Water-slapper’ rather than than the suggested ’splasher’ seemed to be the more accurate translation, and is the one I went with. However, ’splasher’ could have worked just as well, and neither choice would have affected the story.

As I moved onto the translation of a review of the movie Tangled, I was once again confronted with the problem of how to translate the title. It seems to be a consistent theme here. As I was translating the review into English, I went ahead and used the English title for the new Disney movie, Tangled. The German title, Rapunzel – Neu verföhnt, is – as near as I can tell – a pun. ‘Verföhnt’ means that the hair drying was a failure, and seems to be a pun on the word ‘verfilmt.’  This would never have translated over into English. Overall this translation was more difficult than the previous two, with more complex sentences to decipher and more complex ideas to convey. Additional research was require so that I could understand some of the terms – for example, that non-photorealistic rendering referred to a specific technique.

The final translation, a review of the movie The Princess and the Frog, required yet another alteration of the title, from the German ‘Küss den Frosch’ to the English ‘The Princess and the Frog.’ The issues that arose when translating it were similar to issues in the previous article.

Overall, translating the four texts was a challenge, but an enjoyable one. It required research into the cultural context of the fairy tales – their origins and how the details of the stories have changed over the years – and research into the more recent history of  the modern adaption of fairy tales. As with previous assignments, the more information and knowledge I had about the context, the easier it was to get a satisfactory translation.

Back to its roots: Forty-ninth in Disney’s feature-length films returns to classic narrative material, children’s fairy tales.

A story, as it’s been read, seen, or heard countless times: The story begins in New Orleans, at the turn of the century before the first World War. The young waitress Tiana (Cassandra Steen) loses her father to this war, and she and her mother are left on their own. Tiana works days and nights, pursuing the memory of her father and their dream, to one day open their own restaurant.

At the same time, Prince Naveen (Roger Cicero) arrives in New Orleans, searching for a wife. He is not only a vain dandy, but also happens to be completely broke. By marrying Charlotte, the daughter of a wealthy industrialist “Big Daddy” La Bouff, Naveen seeks to restore his own wealth. However, Voodoo magician Dr. Facilier (Thomas Amper) senses a chance to get in on some big money, and, in complicity with Lawrence, the servant of the prince, he turns Naveen into a frog. Lawrence, now in the form of the prince, shall take Naveen’s place in order to get La Bouffe’s money.

Tiana is working at the costume party held in honor of prince Naveen’s arrival, and when she takes a break from the hype of the party, she is confronted by frog-Naveen. Versed in Grimm’s fairy tales, Naveen asks Tiana to kiss him. And the magic works… but in the opposite direction. To her horror, Tiana finds herself turned into a frog. Together with Naveen, the trumpet playing alligator Louis (Bill Ramsey) and the firefly romantic Ray (Robert Missler) they must now find the infamous Mama Odie (Marianne Rosenberg) to change the magic back, the evil Facilier hot on their heels.

With The Princess and the Frog, Disney breaks away from the new and returns to the tried and true. In only 2004, with the film Home on the Range, Disney left behind traditional animation (excluding films created in collaboration with Pixar), but it now swims toward a return to the classics against the wave of dominate 3-D films. This step is doubtless for economic reasons, an attempt to build at the success of the years before 2004, and appears to be, for the time being, Disney’s new direction.

The current film is a strange work, a mixture of powdered sugar and musical palimpsest. It has everything it needs to send the audience into nostalgia, borrowing from the Rescuers (1997), the traditions that  The Little Mermaid (1989) and then culminated with The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996), sending reviewers on an exhausting flashback to Disney ideology. The film is indeed a real potpourri of Disney work (without counting as post-modern), returning to its own Disney past of previous films and visual experience. The central motif of transformation, found in The Little Mermaid and Beauty and the Beast (1991), with the key of “true love’s kiss.” New Orleans brings back memories of the lair of the evil Medusa from The Rescuers, and the voodoo priest Facilier looks like a modern version of the Grand Vizier Jafar from Aladdin (1992). Not to mention all the singing and dancing, a Disney staple.

And although the changes from tradition appear marginal, they are not to be dismissed out of hand. Not only does Disney finally – without being forced – have a black heroine in the center of the story (who comes from a poor family and is – of course – pure of heart), but war is actually identified. In some places, the film is darker than its predecessors. Not only does Tiana’s father die in the “Great War”, but one of the characters sacrifices his life at the end of the film, although not without a cheesy ceremony (and subsequent re-birth according to Disney theology). In addition to these, there is the issue of Dr. Facilier’s voodoo and black magic, his wire to the other world, and bloody rituals is only partially suitable for children of all ages.

Perhaps one could say The Princess and the Frog is corny and full of fluff. But that fully meets the expectations of Disney, no matter whether the expectations are positive or not.

An old tale, distorted beyond recognition: Disney offers an entertaining variation on the Brothers Grimm fairy tale with lots of hair, music, and humor.

It is an old story, yet still always new: When the production machinery of the Disney Corporation takes a fairy tale, you get the feeling that the story is twisted until it’s unrecognizable. Often enough it seems that only the catchiest, most compelling features of the original narrative remain, especially in the latest animated films.

This is the impression that Tangled gives at first. In the Brothers Grimm version, Rapunzel is locked away in a tower, because her mother had stolen lettuce (Rapunzel) from the garden of a witch, and letting down her hair was the only way in or out of the tower. Because she falls in love with a prince, Rapunzel is banished to the desert. The prince loses his eyesight, but regains it when when her tears wet his blind eyes.

From this story, only the tower and the long hair remains (and later the tears). Everything else has been moved and changed. Screenwriter Dan Fogelman has woven a new story, a story of a magical flower. It was jealously guarded by the witch Gothel, for it gave her eternal life. When the magic power of the flower is used to save the pregnant and gravely ill queen, the power manifests in the hair of the newborn princess. So Gothel steals the child and locks her in a tower – and never, never is the hair to be cut, otherwise the power would be lost.

Tangled places the hair as the focus of its story. It serves as not only the pivotal point of the plot, but also as a means of locomotion, as a weapon, and show value. The young lady has, in nearly eighteen years of captivity, acquired an extraordinary mastery of her hair, using it as a fifth limb and telescopic arm to swing over chasms, as a restraining device, and a tripping hazard.

Of course this is an opportunity for the studio to exhibit the technical and aesthetic level of their work. Well-animated hair in computer animation has always been troublesome business and a status symbol. The film also makes use of non-photorealistic rendering. Proliferate directors Nathan Gerno and Byron Howard, along with author Fogelman who worked together previously on Bolt, collaborated to create visual film at its best, finding striking images where words would only detract – the grief of Rapunzel’s parents over their missing daughter, for instance, or a romantic moment on the lake.

In such a moment one suspects that the guiding hand of Pixar stalwart John Lasserter, the executive producer, was involved. As Pixar is known for, Tangled speeds right to the plot, despite some singing and dancing along the way. The unwritten Disney rule of strange animal sidekicks is here too. On Rapunzel’s shoulder is a mostly silent, but very ironic chameleon, and as the faithful steed, Maximus, a palace horse bent on capturing the self-confident male protagonist. This is Flynn Rider, thief and would-be philanderer. On the run after stealing the crown of the princess, he ends up in Rapunzel’s tower, and becomes a reluctant accomplice to her breakout.

For Rapunzel, who has never sought to leave her tower until just before her eighteenth birthday, her escape with Flynn is a metaphor on several levels: not only are growing up and self-discovery played out in slow motion here with the separation from the (false) mother and the binding to the (of course in the end) lover; the story of trust, betrayal, and redemption is also pervaded with sexual motives, which are highly encoded and defused for the family-friendly Disney universe.

Disney’s Rapunzel is a thoroughly self-conscious princess, and the apparent contradiction between her years of captivity and her usually confident appearance is never discussed (and if they’re referenced at all, it is for comic purposes). Strangely enough, Rapunzel’s story takes a backseat to Flynn’s in the narrative. This shift seems like a deliberate attempt to appeal to boys who would otherwise be put off by a “princess movie.”

That the filmmakers use very traditional gender roles – she waits patiently and selflessly, he is brave and strives for a goal – is the greatest weakness of an otherwise very entertaining family movie. One is surprised to find this in Disney anymore, especially after all the discussion on ethnicity and gender that had been sparked in the USA by Disney’s adaptation of Princess and the Frog. Thus the film finally ends with the greatest possible distance from the old fairy tale on the surface of the narrative, but a little harmless “Gender Trouble” brings us back to the very same old stereotypes.

In the old times, when wishing still helped, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the most beautiful was the youngest. She was so beautiful that the sun itself, who had seen so much, was astonished whenever it shone on her face.

Next to the royal castle there was a grand, dark forest, and in the forest, under an old lime tree, was a fountain. Whenever it was warm, the king’s child went out into the woods and sat by the fountain. When she became bored, she took a golden ball, threw it into the air and caught it again; and that was her favorite pastime.

Now one day it happened that the golden ball fell not into the princess’s outstretched hands, but instead onto the ground and rolled straight into the water. The princess followed after it with her eyes, but it vanished, and the well was so deep, so deep that you could not see the bottom. She began to cry and cried louder and louder, and could not be comforted. And as she lamented, someone called to her, “What is wrong, princess? You weep so that a stone itself would have mercy.” She looked to where the voice came from, and saw a frog stretching his thick ugly head out of the water.

“Oh, you old water-slapper,” she said. “I weep because my golden ball has fallen into the well.” “Be sill and cry not,” answered the frog. “I can help you. But what can you give me if I bring up your plaything again?” “Whatever you want, dear frog,” she said. “My clothes, my pearls and precious stones, and even the golden crown that I wear.” The frog replied, “Your clothes, your pearls and precious stones, and your golden crown I do not like. But if you love me, and let me be your companion and playmate, and let me sit next to your little table, eat from your plate, drink from your cup, and sleep in your little bed; if you promise to give me this, I will go down and fetch you your golden ball again.” “Oh yes,” she said. “I promise you everything you want if you but bring back my ball and give it to me.” But she thought to herself, “What nonsense the frog gabbles. He sits in the water with the others and croaks, he could be no human companion.

When the frog heard her promise he dipped his head underwater and dove down. After awhile he swam up again with the ball in his mouth and threw it onto the grass. The princess, delighted to see her pretty plaything once more, picked it up and ran off. “Wait, wait!” said the frog. “Take me up, I cannot run like you!” But it was no use! She did not hear him, and ran home, soon forgetting about the poor frog, who had to return to his well.

The next day, as she was sitting with the king and all the court and eating from her little golden plate, there came a splish splash, splish splash as something crept up the marble stairs. When it reached the top, there was a knock at the door. “Princess, youngest, let me in!”

She ran to see who was outside, but when she opened the door, there sat the frog. She hastily slammed the door and sat down at the table, quite frightened. The king saw how her heart was racing and said, “My child, what frightens you so? Is there a giant at the door ready to carry you away?” “Ah, dear father, yesterday as I played in the forest by the well, my golden ball fell into the water. And because I cried so, a frog retrieved it for me, as long as I promised him that he would be my companion. But I never thought he would leave the water. Now he is outside, and wants me to let him in.”

The frog knocked a second time and called,
“Princess, youngest,
let me in.
Don’t you remember, only yesterday,
what you said to me,
by the cool well water?
Princess, youngest,
let me in.”

Then the king said: “What you promised you must keep, now go and let him in.” She went and opened the door. The frog hopped in and followed at her heels to her chair. There he sat and cried, “Lift me up to you!” She hesitated, until the at last the king commanded her to. When the frog was on the chair he wanted onto the table, and as he sat there he said: “Now push your golden plate closer, so we may eat together.” And so she did, though everyone saw that she did not do it willingly. The frog enjoyed the meal, but for her every bit caught in her throat.

Finally, he said, “I have eaten my fill, and I am tired. Now carry me to your little silken bed, that we may go to sleep. The princess began to cray. She was afraid of touching the cold frog, and now he must sleep in her nice clean bed. The king grew angry and said, “Who helped you when you were in trouble? You shall not despise him afterward.” So she grabbed the frog with two fingers, carried him upstairs, and put him in a corner.

But when she was in bed, he came creeping up, saying, “I am tired. I want to sleep as well as you do, so lift me up or I shall tell your father.” The princess, beside herself with rage, grabbed the frog and threw him with all her strength against the wall. “Now you will be quiet, you horrid frog!”

When he fell down, he was no longer a frog, but a king with kind and beautiful eyes. He was now, after her father’s will, her dear companion and husband. Then he told her how he had been cursed by a wicked witch, and that no one could rescue him from the well but herself, and that they could now go together to his kingdom. Then they fell asleep, and the next morning a carriage drove up, drawn by eight white horses with white ostrich feathers on their head and harnessed with golden chains. And behind them was the loyal servant of the young king, the faithful Henry.

Faithful Henry had been so distraught when his master was turned into a frog, that he had been given three iron bands to put around his heart, lest it should burst with grief and sadness. The carriage was to take the young king to his kingdom, and Henry helped them both in, then got on behind and was filled with joy at his master’s salvation. And as they traveled, the king heard a crash behind him, as if something had broken. He turned and shouted:
“Henry, the carriage is breaking!”
“No, sir, not the carriage,
it is a band from my heart,
which was put there to stave the pain
from your imprisonment in the well
as you waited, a frog, in vain.”

Once more and once again came the crash, and each time the king thought the carriage had broken, but it was only the breaking of the bands on the heart of the faithful Henry, because his master was free and happy.

There was once a man and a woman who longed in vain many years for a child. At length, the woman held hope that God had granted her wish. The couple had a small window in the back of their house, and out of it one could see a magnificent garden, full of the most beautiful flowers and herbs. But it was surrounded by a high wall and no one dared to go inside, for the garden belonged to a witch, who had great power and was feared by all the world.

One day the woman stood at the window and looked out at the garden below. She beheld a bed that was planted with the most beautiful rapunzel lettuce. It looked so fresh and green that she began to crave it with a great appetite. Every day the cravings increased, though she knew she could not get it, and she pined away and grew pale and miserable.

Alarmed, the man asked, “What do you want, dear wife?” “Alas,” she answered, “If I don’t eat some of the lettuce from the garden behind our house, I’ll surely die.” The man, who loved her so, thought: “Before you let your wife die, you must bring her some lettuce. Let it cost what it wants.”

At twilight he climbed over the wall into the garden of the witch, hastily grabbed a handful of rapunzel, and brought it to his wife. She made herself a salad out of it at once and ate until her appetite was sated. But she liked it so well, it tasted so good, that the next day she craved it three times as much. If she was to have any peace, the man must once again descend into the garden.

Again, he went at twilight. But as he was climbing over the wall he was struck with fear, for the witch stood before him. “How dare you,” said she with a wrathful gaze, “descend into my garden and steal my rapunzel like a thief? Your punishment will be great.” “Alas,” he replied, “I only did was I had to. My wife spotted your rapunzel from the window, and she had such a strong craving for it that she would die if she could not eat it.” The witch’s anger left her, and she said to him: “If it is as you say, I will allow you to take as much rapunzel as you please, on one condition: You must give me the child that your wife brings into this world. It shall be healthy, and I will care for it like a mother.” In his terror, the man accepted, and when his wife gave birth weeks later, the witch appeared at once, gave the child the name Rapunzel, and took it away with her.

Rapunzel was the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old, the witch secluded her in a tower in the midst of the woods, with neither stairs nor a door, only a little window at the top. Whenever the witch wanted in, she stood at the base and cried, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” Rapunzel had long, beautiful hair, fine as spun gold. When she heard the voice of the witch she unfastened her braided tresses, wound them around a window hook, and let the hair fall twenty ells down. Then the witch would climb up it.

After a few years, it came to pass that the king’s son was riding through the forest and passed by the tower. He heard a voice singing so sweetly that he stopped still and listened. It was Rapunzel, who, in her solitude, passed time by letting sweet voice resound. The prince wished to climb up to her, and sought the door of the tower, but it was nowhere to be found. He rode home, but the singing had deeply touched his heart, and every day he went out into the forest and listened. One day, as he stood behind a tree, he saw the witch come up, and heard her cry, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” Then Rapunzel let down her long tresses, and the enchantress climbed up to her. “There is the ladder with which to climb up,” thought the prince. “I will try my luck with it.”

And the next day, as it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” Immediately, the hair fell down, and the prince climbed up. At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man entered the tower, as she had never seen one before. But the prince spoke to her in a friendly manner, and told her that his heart had been so stirred that he could not rest, and he had been forced to come see her. At this Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take him for a husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she thought, “He will love me more than old woman Gothel has.” She said yes, and laid her hand in his hand. She said, “I will be glad to go with you, but I do not know how to get down. Whenever you come, bring a skein of silk, and I will weave a ladder. When that is done, I will climb down and you may take me on your horse.”

They agreed that he would come to her every evening, after the old woman came by day. The enchantress knew nothing of this, until Rapunzel remarked, “Tell me, Mother Gothel, how it is that you are much harder to draw up than the young prince who will soon visit.” “Oh, you wicked child!” cried the witch. “What is this I hear from you? I thought I had separated you from the world, and you have betrayed me!” In her anger, she grabbed Rapunzel’s beautiful hair with her left hand, a pair of scissors with her right, and snip snap, Rapunzel’s hair was cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. The witch was so pitiless that she dragged poor Rapunzel to the desert, and left the girl to live there in great misery and destitution.

That evening, on the same day that she had cast Rapunzel, the witch fastened the severed locks of hair to the top of the window hooks, and when the prince came and cried, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” she let the hair down. The prince ascended the tower, but at the top he found not his dearest Rapunzel, but the witch, who regarded with a cruel and venomous look.

“Aha, she said scornfully. “Do not yearn for your darling, for the beautiful bird no longer sits in the nest and no longer sings. The cat has got her and will scratch out your eyes. Rapunzel is lost, and you will never see her again!” The prince was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns onto which he fell pierced his eyes.

He stumbled blind through the wood, eating nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest wife. For several years, he wandered in misery, and at length he came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins she had borne, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. He heard a voice, a voice so familiar, and he went towards it. As he approached, Rapunzel knew him, and she fell on his neck and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes, and they became clear again, and he could see once more.

He took her to his kingdom where he was received with joy, and they lived long and happily.

Nach meinem Interview über die Thema Kreditkarten, denke ich mehr über warum Amerikaner benutzen Kreditkarten mehr als die Deutschen. Kreditkarten funktionieren nicht, wenn die Menschen kein Vertrauen Banken. Menschen müssen die Banken sind zuverlässig denken.

Amerikaner hatten eine zuverlässige Bankensystem. Sie vertrauten Kreditkarten leichter. Diese lassen Kreditkarten Ausbreitung schneller. Verbreitete Kreditkarte Nutzung führte zu einer Kultur der Unmittelbarkeit.

Die Deutschen hatten Geldsorgen für viele Jahre. Es gab Probleme mit der Inflation und Veränderungen in der Währung. Vielleicht das ist warum Menschen nicht vertrauen Kreditkarten. Greifbare Bargeld war besser als einer Plastikkarte.

“You’re wearing a new ring,” said my friend Lehmann, setting down his cue.

I held out my hand with the ring. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” I pronounced proudly and laid the stone under the gas flame. “I’ve inherited a fine prize, have I not?”

“Hm, indeed, very fine,” nodded Lehmann, but there was some hesitation in his voice. “Very beautiful, quite so.”

“You say that so hesitantly, Lehmann. I chose this. There was a ruby pin as well, but my brother took that. I liked the ring too well.”

“Yes, it is beautiful, but–by the way–are you not superstitious?”

“Superstitious?” I was astonished. “It’s all poppycock. Why?”

“Well, it’s only my opinion,” said Lehmann. “Opals are bad luck.”

“

So-o-o!” I stretched. “How ridiculous. You’re talking nonsense. Let’s get back to the usual business.”

Lehmann “made” the ball, and I, annoyed by the ridiculous comment about the opal, missed and pushed a hole in the billiard cloth. I thus had the high pleasure of shelling out twenty marks.

“Hm, hm,” Lehmann said, casting meaningful look at the ring.

“Ridiculous!” I growled, and shrugged my shoulders contemptuously. But my mood was spoiled. Annoyed, I put on my coat and went home.

At home it was quite unpleasant. I usually arrived home later, and my landlady had allowed the fire to go out. It took repeated and energetic tries to get her to appear, and she was in an ungracious mood.

She was a little round person in her mid-fifties, with the noble name Burgratz. But she looked less like a rat and more like a gentle gray mouse. The Burgratze suffered dizzy spells–connected perhaps with the rapid decline of my Cognac stores.  Besides the said fraud, she had the distressing condition of being totally deaf at times. Oddly enough, this deafness always occurred when I demanded something from her  that didn’t suit her.

She appeared, as I’d said before, very ungracious, with a hood and suspicious red cheeks. She seemed to be suffering another dizzy spell. My complaints of the cold oven fell on her seemingly-deaf ears. She knelt down in silence in front of the oven, and made such a dreadful racket with the coal shovel and poker that I couldn’t hear myself speak. Finally, she rose and turned–to my amazement–to me.

One of the biggest challenges with the text was just reading Fraktur. Many of the letters–’s’ and ‘f”, ‘w’ and ‘m’–look almost exactly alike to my untrained eye, which hinders the translation process. Once I really began reading through the text, though, it became fairly easy to decipher confusing letters through context. It may look like ‘fie’, but it’s far more likely that it’s ’sie.’ Content-wise, the text I received appears fairly straightforward.

As for how I, as a translator, research and represent historical context in the translation of the primary source text, I would have to say it depends on what the text is being translated for. Is this text for someone who is already aware of the historical context and only wishes for an accurate translation of the actual text? Is the text going to be used as an educational device for people unaware of the historical context? In that case more information may need to be included to make the text understandable.

Höflichkeit in Deustchland is anders als Höflichkeit in Amerika. Die kulturelle Unterschiede verursachen so viele Missverständnisse wie sprachliche Unterschiede. Aber wie viele ist Kultur und wie viele ist Sprach? Sogar in der gleichen Sprache treten Missverständnisse auf. Zum Beispiel, Amerikanisches Englisch und Britisches Englisch.

Ich habe einen Artikel aufgefunden, über amerikanisches Höflichkeit und britisches Höflichkeit. Der Artikel spricht über zwei Arten von Höflichkeit: negativ Höflichkeit und positiv Höflichkeit. (link) Negativ Höflichkeit ist etwa nicht lästig. Positiv Höflichkeit ist über Vergabe Wertschätzung. In Großbritannien, Sie benützen negativ Höflichkeit. In Amerika, Sie benützen positiv Höflichkeit. Die Unterscheide sind Kultur. Kultur lernen ist wichtig, ebenso wichtig wie Sprach lernen.

Datum: Freitag 29.10.10

Ich habe vergessen, sich Notizen machen, und weiβ ich nicht was wir haben über gesprochen. Also, schreibe ich über etwas anderes.

Gern ich Deutsch studieren. Manchmal lese ich Bücher auf Deutsch–wie Harry Potter, weil weiβ ich sehr gut die Buch auf Englisch. Aber ich lese sehr langsam. Es gibt viele Wörter, weiβ ich nicht. Deutsche Filme sind gut auch. Und manchmal ich höre auf Disney Lieder. Ich gern Disney Lieder hören. Ich weiβ sie auf Englisch sehr gut, also kann ich die englische Version und deutsche Version vergleiche. Ist interessant, wie sie sind anderer.