06 Mar

Notes from Slavic Quick Cataloging, Pt. 4

Notes from Slavic Cataloging, Pt. 4

The books in languages I can almost understand make me want to do some sort of grand project, like Ezra Pound, who translated Chinese poetry without knowing Chinese, but extrapolating from the idea that the ideograms originate from visual representations of something. To pseudo-translate these Eastern European novels into something entirely different and new, only slightly connected to the original work. Start with what the first page might say, to my understanding, and go from there. Or just the title.

Here’s a good one in Slovenian. “Sanja in Samostan” I presume Sanja to be a person, and Samostan to be a place. But maybe Slovenian “in” isn’t equivalent to English “in.” Maybe it is equivalent to “and”, “or”, or “of.” Perhaps Sanja is a place, and Samostan a person. Or both people. Sanja and Samostan.

Сам [sam] means ‘self’ in Russian, and perhaps in Slovenian as well. Sanja is probably a short-name for Alexander, or Alexandra. Sanja and Samostan. Best friends since childhood. Samostan is a big fellow, strong and trusting. Sanja is the scrawny one who gets them into and out of trouble.

Then again, саня [sanya] also means ‘sleigh.’ The sleighride to Samostan. But Samostan sounds like a desert place, or a jagged mountain place, that would be hard to get to by sleigh…

Here’s another option: самостоятельный [samostoyatel’nyi] means independnt, self-reliant, literally “self-standing.” Sanja the Independent. It’s a political novel, about a dissident. Or it is satirical, a harshly ironic tale of a the young man who becomes part of The System, despite his belief in original thought. Or the independent sled. Sanja is actually the name of a factory, making sleds, and the tale is told to show how the people involved in sled-making fare with the fall of communism and the rise of independent business. Samostan is an allegorical location where all must be self-dependent, and no long rely upon the state to provide things like pensions for them.

[Ed. –The native speaker in my life informs me that саня [sanya] is rarely, if ever, used in the singular. It’s always сани [sani]. But he agrees with “samostan” bringing self-reliance to mind.]

04 Mar

Notes from Slavic Quick Cataloging, Pt. 3

Notes from Slavic Cataloging, Pt. 3

[I was writing these notes out for a week or two before I got around to posting them, which I only mention because this one is dated.]

In the aftermath of the grammies? Oscars? I’m so out of touch I’m not sure which awards ceremony just happened, but now the media librarians are discussing which films are in the collection so they can add the appropriate tags for the winners. Wait, there’s the conversational cue — the Academy Awards. Did I mention I am out of touch with popular culture? My weekend included Javanese shadow puppetry, a concert in a catholic cathedral, and the fiftieth birthday of my martial arts teacher. Plus schoolwork and kitten time, of course.

**

One Latvian publisher, Dienas Grāmata, has their books marked as printed on paper from mixed sources, as certified by the Forest Stewardship Council.

**

I hear my supervisor and the other slavic cataloguer talking. “…and she’ll ask, if she has any questions.” Next thing I know, I’m looking for copy on a stack of books from the other cataloguer’s shelves — a stack of books mostly in German. And a few in English, like “Love Me Turkmenistan”, a brightly colored photobook illustrating the personality cult built around the former Turkmenistan dictator, Saparmurat Niyazov, who proclaimed himself Turkmenbashi — father of the Turkmen — and, among other things, renamed months after himself and his family members. Of the first eight books, there’s only one with copy I think we can use, but it is a large series, and the screen is filled with a palimpsest of isbn numbers for the individual volumes, then a confusing bit of contents field. Pretty sure, though, that the individual title of this volume is “Texte der deutschen Tischgesellschaft”. Text of the german something. I know that “bruderschaft” means brotherhood. Tischgesell-hood. I use an online dictionary to check Russian words I don’t know, and it says Tischgesellschaft means общество [компания] за обеденным столом, which is to say society (company) at the dinner table. The social interactions during meals. That group of friends you always sit with in the cafeteria.

02 Mar

Notes from Slavic Quick Cataloging, Pt. 2

Notes from Slavic Cataloging, Pt. 2

this morning starts with polish. actually, it starts in the sub-basement, filling up the cart with new books to check through. We’re up to last August, only seven months backlog to work through! Last time I went to the sub-basement there was a crumbling newspaper on a table near the stacks of slavic orders. It was a Seattle publication from 1904 or so, and had a front page story decrying the fact that the price of vegetables increased far more than the cost of transport between eastern Washington and Seattle. How could they possibly charge so much more, when it certainly costs less than a cent, per item, to bring them from Yakima?

**

The first polish book I find copy for has the author’s face inside the back cover, right where I need to put the barcode. She has crooked teeth, and is drinking a cup of tea, so I carefully place the barcode over her forehead, just above her eyebrows.

**

From a string of Bulgarian books:
–Book printed in Blagojevgrad — probably where a certain former governor’s forebears came from. Insert your own Bulgarian/gipsy joke here.
–Title: Diplomatic records on the ruination of Bulgarians from Macedonia and the region of Edirne in the times of reforms 1904-08

**

Here’s a great name: Ладыженская [Ladyzhenskaya]. For those of you unfamiliar with slavic languages, “zhenskaya” also means lady.
Also, Безносикова [Beznosikov] — no socks.

[Ed. –The native speaker in my life helpfully reminds me that носки [noski] is socks, but носик [nosik] is a diminutive of нос [nos], or nose. These are the kinds of non-native mistakes that are easy, and silly to make. TNSPIML once commented on someone’s sedimentary lifestyle (meaning sedentary), and my mother once explained in Russian that my younger sister was seven o’clock (семь часов) instead of seven years (семь лет). Anyhoo, it’s more unfortunate that way – I’d rather be without socks than without a nose.]

**

Russian-Chinese Customs Dictionary — customs, as in border-crossing customs.

27 Feb

Notes from Slavic Quick Cataloging, Pt. 1

I’m working at the university library this quarter and next, as a “slavic quick cataloger.” New books come to the library, go sit in the basement, and six months later the quick catalogers (there are two student workers in my position) catch up to them. We look the book up by their call number, and if another library has entered its information in worldcat, we copy it to our catalog. But only if it is a library which is trusted to enter it correctly.

So I’m seeing a ton of books from all over Russia and Eastern Europe, and overhearing conversations from other people working in the library’s cataloging section. I started keeping notes of the interesting bits, and I keep meaning to carry in my camera to document some of the covers and such, but so far I haven’t remembered.

Notes from Slavic Cataloging, Pt. 1

here’s a useful book?
Information science and processing vocabulary : Estonian-English-German-Russian
Mostly I was just intrigued to see that this exists.

**

A dissertation published (in English) by the Institute of Mathematics, Polish Academy of Sciences, “Cooperative guards in art galleries.” It is mathematical models of how many people are needed to be able to see everything in art galleries of various shapes, and also how to have the guards all be able to see each other, in case one is disabled.

**

funny name:
Институт этнографии имени Н.Н. Миклухо-Маклая [Institue of ethnography in the name of N.N. Miklukho-Maklaya]
Миклухо-Маклая!! [Milukho-Maklaya]

**

today’s discussion topic among the 40-ish media librarians (as in their age, not that there are 40 of them) – going to “geezer” shows as older people and no longer wanting musicians to take off their shirts.

2nd topic: this book is about green cemeteries.
lib. 1: if you want to be green, why don’t you just get cremated?
lib. 2: they bury them without the coffin, and not too deep, so they can contribute to the soil.
lib 1: do they have anything to keep the raccoons from digging them up?
lib. 2: they say they haven’t had any problems with it, so far. no bear has been intrepid enough to exhume anyone.
lib 1: but they’re still taking up space. once you’re dead, you should get off the earth.

**

there is something seriously wrong with mathematical education in Serbia. I’ve just added to a series called ‘documents on foreign politics of the Serbian crown 1903-1914’ (at least that’s the best I can gather from Serbian) the following books:
vol. 2, part 4, no. 1
vol. 2, part 4, no. 2
vol. 2, supplement 2

“volume 2” is at least ten separate books! Seriously! They are also labeled by both old & new calendar dates*. I’m postulating extreme counting issues in the Balkans.

*if you’re not familiar with the old & new calendar concept, it has to do with the followers of Russian Orthodoxy not switching to the Gregorian calendar until early twentieth century.

25 Oct

Russian cooking Friday: golubtsi

Another Russian cooking Friday!

I made borshch a while back, and today I made golubtsi, which are kind of like Russian burritos. Except, of course, they don’t have tortillas in Russia, so none of that wheat stuff. You gotta use something that Russian cooking is full of — cabbage! That’s right, golubtsi are traditionally a rice and meat filling wrapped in a cabbage leaf, with tomato sauce. I didn’t take any pictures this time around, but there are some good ones here.

Here’s my recipe. They were surprisingly quick and easy.

Core a head of cabbage and boil it in lightly salted salted water for 10-15 minutes. Carefully peel off 8-10 leaves, taking care not to rip them. Set aside.

For the filling: Saute one small onion, diced, with 1-2 seeded and diced tomatoes. In a bowl, mix together 1 cup cooked rice, 2 cups ground meat or veggie equivalent (veggie ground, textured vegetable protein, diced mushrooms, etc), onion and tomato, large spoonful tomato paste from a 6 oz/170 g can, and salt and pepper to taste.

Place a large dollop of filling on the inside of each cabbage leaf and fold together “like an envelope”. Stick a toothpick through the folded ends to hold it together. Repeat until filling is used up.

Put assembled golubtsi to fry in a pan with melted butter, turning once. (Use a fork and the toothpick to hold on to them as you flip them.) Meanwhile, put the rest of the tomato paste in a sauce pan mixed with water or broth, and a spoonful of sugar. Add one or two bay leaves and bring to boil, allow to thicken to tomato soup consistency.

Put fried golubtsi in a casserole dish. Remove the toothpicks and pour tomato sauce over them. Place in a 350 F oven for 30-45 minutes. If you have a meat filling, you want to make sure it is cooked through. If a veggie filling, you are just wanting the cabbage leaves to be soft.

Serve with tomato sauce spooned over them, and a dollop of sour cream.

04 Oct

Russian cooking: borscht

This afternoon, being finished with the week’s classes (though, of course, not the week’s schoolwork), I rocked out to blues guitar and made borshch. At least, my version of borshch. I have been sort of hoping that my boyfriend’s mom, an authentic Russian mother, will come and visit and show me whatever the “family recipe” is. However, she wasn’t around and I wanted my soup – it’s rainy and soup is definitely in order, so I forged ahead on my own.

First, there was chopping of cabbage.

About half of a cabbage, sliced thinly, and then the resulting shreds cut up a bit, so that over all there were many little pieces. It looks like a lot in the bowl, but it will get cooked a little before it goes into the soup, and will decrease in size.

To the cabbage, I added one shredded carrot. I was going to do more carrot, but once it was shredded it seemed like a lot. Next I diced up half a large onion, and broke up a big handful of green beans. All these went in the bowl, as storage before they went in a big frying pan.

Mmmm… veggies!


Once I had the veggies squared away, I also diced up four medium potatoes – two Yukon gold, and two red. You can see how differently colored they are, inside and out! I’m not sure that my palate is sophisticated to describe the differences in their tastes, though.

Before I started chopping anything, I had three beets cooking in almost boiling water. They take a while to cook, so it is good to get them started early. By the time I had the veggies frying, they were soft enough to stick a fork in, so I moved them to the cutting board to cool off. I saved the water they cooked in to add to the broth.

While the veggies were frying up…

I was peeling beets…

…and grating them…


…and getting very pink.

It washes off pretty well, but you might want to wear gloves. And don’t expect it to come easily out of a wooden cutting board. This is a powerful color. If you’ve never eaten beets before, the color does go all the way through you. My mother is not a lover of beets, so I never ate them as a child. At some point in college I cooked some for myself, and in true collegiate fashion, ate little else for a day or two. Then my pee was pink, and I thought it was blood and I was dying of some horrible disease. But no, it was just from the beets. No worries!

By the time the beets were all shredded, the veggies, were pretty well cooked, so I put them back in the bowl to cohabit with the beets, and put the potatoes in to fry.

I had some trouble with the potatoes, which probably had to do with not using a non-stick frying pan — they stuck like crazy. Every time I would leave them alone for two minutes, they would affix to the bottom. By the time they were cooked up, there was a layer of potato on the bottom of the pan that I had to leave to soak off later.

Finally, we’re ready to actually put everything together as soup! First, we have the water that the beets were in. It is super ruby red, and very pretty. I added the potatoes first, since they maybe needed some cooking still. Then, my secret ingredients!

That’s right — veggie broth. Organic and on sale at the store recently. Some tomato paste because last winter when I made borshch I didn’t realize it was supposed to include tomato anything, and my boyfriend explained that I did it all wrong. And some black-eyed peas, because I vaguely recall some beans in the borshch that his mother made, except I think they may have been cannelloni, which I didn’t find at the store.

Secret ingredient #4 is the squish inside bits of a squash I baked the other day. I took out most of the seeds and fried them, and I was going to put the stringy bits in the compost, but then I wondered why I’ve never eaten that part of the squash — I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it… so I saved it, and now it’s soup. I did cut it up some, because it was originally one big fibrous mass.

So here’s everything in the pot!

I let it simmer for a while, mixed everything in pretty well. There was salt in the vegetable broth, and the borshch tasted pretty good as it was, so I didn’t add any spices. Just a little salt once I got it in my bowl.

And here’s the final product! Red red red Soviet soup! Yum!

This reminds me of something I learned in high school — a somewhat non- sensical reasoning for why fire engines are red.

1. Fire engines have ladders.

2. A ladder has 12 rungs.

3. There are 12 inches on a ruler.

4. Queen Mary was a ruler.

5. Queen Mary is also a ship.

6. Ships sail on the ocean.

7. Fish live in the ocean.

8. Fish have fins.

9. The Finns fought the Russians.

10. The Russians were Communists.

11. Communists wear red.

Ergo…