Cristiana Cubas’s short story

Overview 

This passage from Cristiana Cubas’s short story, La Habitación de Nona, didn’t prove to be challenging to translate in terms of the complexity of grammar, mainly in the present tense. The content of this passage consists mainly of short neutral sentences and in its entirety, very descriptive, with a couple of colloquial expressions (más de la cuenta). I tried to translate these expressions appropriately, avoiding a lower register by trying to find a similar idiomatic expression in English. I have respected the syntax but modified the punctuation where I thought it was necessary - Cubas uses many semicolons and I replaced a few with conjunctions as this repetition in English would feel inefficient. I have also made changes to the structures of a couple of complex sentences in order to preserve the quality and content of the passage. Cubas writes in first person throughout this passage, therefore, I have chosen to use contractions as well as the first person because the narrating tone imposes informality, this register would otherwise be lost. There weren’t many problems with the vocabulary, although I had no previous knowledge of the meaning of a few words (anodino, ensimismada, pulcro).

          At first it seemed strange to me going into her bedroom without knocking. Everyone at home got used to knocking on the door, although we would open it right away without waiting for a reply^[1]. That’s why we always surprised Nona. Distant, withdrawn^[2], lost in her secret world. But today it was different. There was no one guarding her lair^[3], so I barged in, and although Nona wasn’t there, I could smell her scent. That odd smell: a mixture of medicine and eau-de-cologne. Nona’s smell. I opened the wardrobe and searched the drawers. I wasn’t surprised by neither the tidiness nor the cleanliness. I knew that it was the first condition for Crispi not to go into her bedroom any more than was agreed. Then I sat down on the bed. Nona managed wonderfully on her own. The bedsheets were perfectly tightened; the pillows, fluffy and the quilt didn’t droop too much over any corners. I went over to the window and I opened it wide. Her bedroom looked even more tidy and meticulous in the morning sunlight. It also looked more impersonal; more insignificant. Then I wondered what exactly I had been expecting to find and couldn’t find. But I didn’t know the answer myself.

          If it weren’t for Nona’s unmistakable smell permeating the bedsheets, the furniture and the curtains, that bedroom could have belonged to a total stranger. Not even a piece of clothing out of place. Not even a personal touch. Nothing that justified her interest for being confined within these four walls. However, I wasn’t deceived for long. I gradually started to understand.

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