The following excerpt is from one chapter in a well-read children's novel aimed at early high school teens by a famous NL writer who is well-known for the detail and accuracy to history in her works of historical fiction: though she may invent (some) fictitious characters, they're always set amongst real history and real characters and a real sense of time. (As a point of comparison: English language "serious" historical fiction takes far more liberties with history than such NL authors do. Actual history-writing is better in mainland Europe in general.)
A relevant portion's translated below to show:
1. the everyday existence of dowry in 14th century christian Europe. This is not only before christoeurope invaded/colonised India, it's about a part of Europe that didn't colonise India.
2. that dowry - as everyone already knows - was always heavily demanded by the church whenever anyone (especially women) entered it. Families paid, as christoconverts in India still do, to get their daughters taken up by convents as nuns. The same was true among Romans when Rome was converted to christianism. Dowry to enrich the church's coffers is a longstanding christoEuropean tradition. The novices already worked everyday for their upkeep - completing tasks and chores for their church - and yet their families were expected to pay their way too, so can't argue that it's for supporting the nuns.
3. that all the low-level opinions on daughters that (Indian and foreign) christians ascribe to unconverted Indians is actually described as being the norm in Europe in the following.
I've left out identifying markers such as for placenames and character names, but these are described in <>. Inserts to clarify bits implicit from the sentence in the original are in []. The rest of the translation is as in text. As literal as possible. And the original is indeed written in the present tense - so that's been retained in the translation even when this sounds weird in English, whereas it's not so weird in NLs - despite the story taking place in the 14th century in NW Europe.
Further notes: the work is not a romance - minus for a brief bit in passing - it's just plain historical fiction with the twin purpose of teaching history (which is clearly the author's passion) in an entertaining setting. The author's purpose with the work is, as usual, to paint the time and place and introduce famous historical events. (The author's historical fictions are recommended by history teachers for a purpose.) The above excerpt is from a work that's IIRC mostly about a famous war and its famous battles in that period of history, the real way the aristocratic knights and peasant footsoldiers fought their battles: the conceitedness and snobbishness of the French aristocracy, the cheating of the English with their terrorist guerilla warfare - this work isn't going to get translated into English any time soon, I suspect. Also: the complete contempt with which the aristocracy treated the peasants/serfs and all in between and how this was ultimately considered gawd-ordained, the utter and pervasive misery and grime in that time in christian medieval Europe, the reality of the scale of impact of disease/epidemics, etc. Other things that get covered: superstition, maltreatment, church twohandedness/hypocrisy (powergreed versus pretence of piety), christian-instilled bigotry, even a very brief illustration of the ready nature of christian pogroms against Jews (on the slightest of pretexts). Clearly, this book is not going to be translated for Indian children studying in christian schools in India etc, despite Indian christian schools' preference for "western" literature... I think there's a reason people in the christianising world - both among the missionary and in the 3rd world being converted - stick studiously to the English language and strictly avoid translating mainstream works from other European languages. English really is the language of christianism. And of all the European languages, English seems to have the least offensive (and least effective) literature vis-a-vis christianism. In the comparison, translations of the above and other NL authors' works can be found in most other European languages - most everything except English, in fact. "Curious." Either native English speakers think their native literature is the only kind worthwhile or there's some other reason for their selective translations (or absence of any translation*) of famous works in other languages.
(* The thus-far total avoidance of Deschner's works comes to mind as an example of the latter.)
A relevant portion's translated below to show:
1. the everyday existence of dowry in 14th century christian Europe. This is not only before christoeurope invaded/colonised India, it's about a part of Europe that didn't colonise India.
2. that dowry - as everyone already knows - was always heavily demanded by the church whenever anyone (especially women) entered it. Families paid, as christoconverts in India still do, to get their daughters taken up by convents as nuns. The same was true among Romans when Rome was converted to christianism. Dowry to enrich the church's coffers is a longstanding christoEuropean tradition. The novices already worked everyday for their upkeep - completing tasks and chores for their church - and yet their families were expected to pay their way too, so can't argue that it's for supporting the nuns.
3. that all the low-level opinions on daughters that (Indian and foreign) christians ascribe to unconverted Indians is actually described as being the norm in Europe in the following.
I've left out identifying markers such as for placenames and character names, but these are described in <>. Inserts to clarify bits implicit from the sentence in the original are in []. The rest of the translation is as in text. As literal as possible. And the original is indeed written in the present tense - so that's been retained in the translation even when this sounds weird in English, whereas it's not so weird in NLs - despite the story taking place in the 14th century in NW Europe.
Quote:[...]
She wants to think about the insane fact that she has been engaged since the last few days.
She's now 15 years old. Her parents think it's time that a suitable husband is sought for her and 3 days ago father brought up the name of <character name>, the 17-year old son of a rich broker. That shocked <her> terribly.
[...]
"If the <prospective groom's> family discover what kind of character our <daughter> has, it's but the question if they would still want her," she heard her mother say now. It sounds bitter, but <the girl> suddenly holds her breath. Yes, consider: *that* would be a way out! She lies quietly listening, and then hears her mother ponder: "<Another male name>, the son of the Guildmaster <family-name> also has an eye on <the girl>. Maybe...."
"[I'll have] None of <guildmaster's family>," rages the father. "That one demands too high a dowry. The <broker family> [constantly] send the most profitable business my way and demand only half [the dowry] of what the <guildmaster family> want for <my daughter>. She will marry <the broker's son> and that's the end of it!"
<The girl> quickly hides her head under her cover and forces her tears back.
[...]
She knows that her parents never loved her. But do they even love each other? <Her> mother was of course also married out to the most profitable match; she wasn't asked for her opinion. Who knows, she might have as much a dislike for her husband as <the protagonist Girl> has of <her intended, the broker's son>. In any case, <she> has never noticed anything of affection between her parents. Mrs <Girl's mother> quietly goes about her business, speaks little, never laughs. Is she unhappy, or merely proud?
[color="#0000FF"]<The Girl's> birth must have been a disappointment to merchant <Girl's dad>, because he'd been hoping for a successor and got a daughter. Daughters are worthless, they only cost money. The most use you get from a daughter is to marry her out to a befriended business-family, to make the bonds [between business families] even stronger. Moreover, it took another 3 years before the next child came, <the Girl's brother's name>. This time a boy, fortunately![/color] Her father had hardly considered <the Girl> again/after that. Mother had entrusted the care of the little daughter to the <servant name> and she had but little time to give to the child. And so, the <Girl> had grown up: neglected by her father, treated coolly by her mother. The sole person with whom she found a little friendship and happiness was <male name>, the old servant to look after the horses. He had taught her how you should handle horses. The stable's still the only place where <the Girl> can count on some sympathy and understanding. She's learnt little beyond that. She's spent 2 years at school with the nuns to learn to count and especially: learning to pray. Her father found any more than that to be unnecessary. But she speaks good French, which she has picked up in town and also at school. French is the trade-language, and even the most ignorant <inhabitant of this Belgian town> can more or less express themselves in that language. Beyond that...
Beyond that, she's nothing more than a well-dressed maidservant, destined to marry a boy whom she rather wishes into the other end of the world. Everything in <the Girl> rebels against that prospect. And once more the impossible thought of a flight turns up...
[...]
To <the Girl>, France is the land of great wonder. There the people are gallant and beautiful. There they're not of the pedestrian ways of the Flemish. There the sun always shines and the farmers sing at their work; there lie cities, much greater, richer and mightier than <her own Belgian town>. There the wine-grapes ripen, the minstrels sing, and the king is honoured as a saint. Whoever wants to be happy, ought to go to France.
Or so <the Girl> thinks, at any rate. And that is curious, because it's precisely the <inhabitants of her Flemish town> who have little reason to be well-disposed to the French king (who's also *their* king). The great Flemish townships had long fought for independence and, at first, even with much success. At <Flemish placename or battle named after place>, the Flemish had brought on a terrific defeat to the French cavalry [literally "army of knights"] and that battle is still called the ["Golden trail battle"????]. But thereafter the French king had been able to subject the rebellious Flemish people again and the [Flemish] cities were punished severely.
Still, the Flemish remained unwilling. And that is no wonder, because the trade-interests of the <inhabitant's of the Girl's Flemish town> were dependent on the import of English wool, the best in the world. All of <this Flemish town> lives off of it. That's why the town chose the side of the English when the English king Edward III was seeking allies because he was preparing for a war with France. [It was] Because this Edward III was of the opinion that it was he who had the right to the French throne and not Phillippe VI of Valois, who now reigned in Paris.
Maybe <the Girl> is dreaming of France precisely because her father, the cloth-merchant, is so favourably disposed towards the English. At home she always hears her parents swear at France. She would rather hear them swear at <the broker's son (her intended fionce)>, in place of [their swearing at] King Phillipe and his entire band of knights.
Thus dozing about <famous French province> and the lovely France, <the Girl> finally falls in sleep.
[...]
[Next day, while trying to purchase onions, the Girl meets the broker's son - who is well-known to her - and tries to ignore him. He taunts her and threatens to beat her up regularly each morning once they're married - which is set to happen in about a year's time - as he claims that will make her obedient. She promises to stab him if he ever tries anything, and ends by telling him he ought to be an executioner rather than a broker.]
[...]
Raging, she marches and arrives home 10 minutes later, without the onions. When her father comes home for his afternoon meal, he appears to already be aware [of what had transpired].
"<Girl's name>! You have been arguing in the middle of the street with <the broker's son> like a typical mean [low-bred] maid," he yells. "What possesses you child? The <Broker's family> might not even want to take you up in their family next. But I warn you! If that happens, you will be sorry." [Note: her dad had previously sent her to bed black and blue - with her mother's approval - for losing some money when sent on a shopping errand.]
With the courage of desperation, <the Girl> yells: "<The broker's son> has promised to beat me up every morning once I'm married to him. I told him that the daughter of cloth-merchant <her father's surname> is not served by this/not brought up for this."
That [comment] reaches its mark. Mother looks at her dismayed, father frowns. His family pride has been hit.
"Is that true?"
"It's true, father. <The broker's son> said that with a face as if he was already looking forward to the beatings. That boy is mad. Who'd say such a thing... to his fioncee."
"I don't want such things spoken of at table," mother says quickly. She has turned pale. Which memories have surfaced in her?
"Father, I can't marry <the broker's son>. I hate him," <the Girl> yells.
"Silence!" her mother demands sternly.
"You will marry <the broker's son> and that's an end on it," her father says implacably. "But there's no hurry; you're [both] still children and argue like children. You will see that in a year or two <the broker's son> would be completely changed." <The Girl> snorts. She doesn't believe in that[/such a] change. Once a vicious sneak, always a vicious sneak, she thinks. It's *in* him, it's his character.
"I'd as lief go into a convent," she whispers. She almost chokes on a fishbone.
"A convent life wouldn't suit you," her mother says quickly, her eyes fastened on her tin plate.
No, certainly not! [i.e. "a convent life would certainly not suit"] <The girl> can't even think of being locked up forever [as would happen to nuns in a convent]... But at this moment it seems to her the only way out. "Anything is better than marrying an executioner," she screams at the top of her voice.
"Eat," her father says gruffly. <The Girl> is already ducking, because she expects an outburst of fury after all her impertinence. To her surprise, it doesn't come. Instead, father looks broodingly at the table and messes about with the buttersauce. And suddenly <the Girl> understands! The convent of the <Convent name or name of nuns> would gladly accept the daughter of a well-to-do merchant.
But the abbess ["mother superior" type] would certainly demand a dowry as great as that of the <guildmaster family> for <the Girl's> entry into the convent. And her parents don't intend to settle much money on that troublesome daughter of theirs. They want to get rid of her, but as inexpensively/cheaply as possible. That's why <the broker's son> is the appointed groom. Sold to the least demanding, <the Girl> thinks, grinding her teeth. So that's my life, the future of a free citizen's/burgher's daughter.
[...]
Further notes: the work is not a romance - minus for a brief bit in passing - it's just plain historical fiction with the twin purpose of teaching history (which is clearly the author's passion) in an entertaining setting. The author's purpose with the work is, as usual, to paint the time and place and introduce famous historical events. (The author's historical fictions are recommended by history teachers for a purpose.) The above excerpt is from a work that's IIRC mostly about a famous war and its famous battles in that period of history, the real way the aristocratic knights and peasant footsoldiers fought their battles: the conceitedness and snobbishness of the French aristocracy, the cheating of the English with their terrorist guerilla warfare - this work isn't going to get translated into English any time soon, I suspect. Also: the complete contempt with which the aristocracy treated the peasants/serfs and all in between and how this was ultimately considered gawd-ordained, the utter and pervasive misery and grime in that time in christian medieval Europe, the reality of the scale of impact of disease/epidemics, etc. Other things that get covered: superstition, maltreatment, church twohandedness/hypocrisy (powergreed versus pretence of piety), christian-instilled bigotry, even a very brief illustration of the ready nature of christian pogroms against Jews (on the slightest of pretexts). Clearly, this book is not going to be translated for Indian children studying in christian schools in India etc, despite Indian christian schools' preference for "western" literature... I think there's a reason people in the christianising world - both among the missionary and in the 3rd world being converted - stick studiously to the English language and strictly avoid translating mainstream works from other European languages. English really is the language of christianism. And of all the European languages, English seems to have the least offensive (and least effective) literature vis-a-vis christianism. In the comparison, translations of the above and other NL authors' works can be found in most other European languages - most everything except English, in fact. "Curious." Either native English speakers think their native literature is the only kind worthwhile or there's some other reason for their selective translations (or absence of any translation*) of famous works in other languages.
(* The thus-far total avoidance of Deschner's works comes to mind as an example of the latter.)