Tonight I thought I would share with you my latest 19th Century Polish novel translation.  I have always been fascinated by the 19th Century Poles, including the funny writings of Vladislaw Kotoski.  Vladislaw Kotoski was born in Berne, Switzerland, but obviously his father was Polish.  Oh ha!  I've only gotten through the first chapter, which is 311 pages long, but I will just skip over the really boring parts.  Sometimes, Kotoski has a tendency to ramble a bit.  But never two bits!  Oh ha!  His book "You Can Bank On That In Warsaw" was very popular in 1836, but only in certain regions of the country, and ironically, not in Warsaw.  It centers around a Southern family who recently moved to Poland from Columbus, Georgia, in order to get some 'pace 'n kwat.'  Here then, is Chapter 1.  In places where I leave an ellipses (...) it means that I am skipping over some less interesting portion of the story. 

Deak Deakins and the folk from Columbus, Georgia arrived in Warsaw on the noon train.

"Grizzly Christ, that was the longest train ride I've taken in a long time, and that's the truth," said Deak.

"Bullshit, Daddy, the longest train ride we ever took was from Auckland to Pyongyang.  How soon a Southern gentleman forgets!  (Note:  Isn't that just too funny?)

"Deak," said Momma Deakins.  "Where are we?"

"We're in Warsaw, Momma," said Deak.  "It's the capital of Poland."

"Deah Lawd, this place don't look fit for a niggah, let alone a Deakins," cried Momma.

Just a sudden there, a Polish man approached them and offered to carry their bags. 

"My name is Vladislaw Kurkowski, and I would like to welcome you to Warsaw," said the man in friendly voice.

...

After they bathed, the Deakins family took Vladislaw Kurkowski up on his offer for a nice chuckwagon dinner down at Warsaw Town Square.  It was there that the rest of the Warsaw city folk introduced themselves.

"My name is Vladislaw Pulaski, grandson of Casmir the Count," said one guy.

"I remember Kashmir the Cunt," said Junior Deakins.  "Those were some fun times when we was traveling in India, or Pakistan, or whatever the fuck it is.  She was one hot little number.  Remember her, Paw?"

...

It was a loveley hospital.  In Poland, the victim of a crime must press charges or otherwise nothing is done.  That is why it is best to always murder your victim when in Poland!  (Note:  Are you hyperventalilating yet?  Sweet Jeesey Marie!)  Deak Deakins decided not to press charges against Momma.  He was sorry for his infidelity, not just in Kashmir, but everywhere else they had travelled.  He was sorry that he had given Momma 72 forms of the clap.

...

Nine years after arriving in Warsaw, a homesick Junior Deakins was out playing Kraut Frisbee with the neighbor kids when the shouting voice of Vladislaw Kurkowski came over a makeshift megaphone.

"Guess what, gang!  I just received word that my old friend Vladislaw Pichaske is coming in from Krakow this afternoon.  Oh happy day!"  (Note:  'oh happy day' is a common Polish phrase)

"Do you know Vladislaw, Junior?" asked one of his friends, Vladislaw Titooski.

"Sure, I know Vladislaw.  Back on the plantation, Pa always used to serve up some vladislaw with a slab of hog, some baked beans, and a whole mess o' chestnuts."

"Christ, you're weird," said Vladislaw Titooski.

...

On the Ides of March, Vladislaw Pichaske arrived in Warsaw on the noon train from Krakow.  Deak and Vladislaw Kurkowski met him there.  Upon exiting the train, Vladislaw Pichaske looked around devilishly, but also stupidly, not seeing his friends.

"Hey Pichaske!  Over here!" said Kurkowski.

Regaining his composure and wiping the drool from his face having just seen Miss Bulgaria board another train, Vladislaw Pichaske approached them.

"Vladislaw!" he cried.

"Vladislaw!" said Kurkowski.

They embraced in a manly, heterosexual hug.

"Vladislaw, this is my friend Deak Deakins," said Kurkowski. 

"Oh, you're that new moron who just moved in about nine years ago," Pichaske honked like a Canadian goose.  "Really, though, Southerners aren't quite as stupid as the dipshits down in Krakow."

"How bad are things down in Krakow?" Deak inquired.

"Hell, things are so ass backwards down there, even my wife's name is Vladislaw!"  harrumphed Pichaske.

...

And then they all died, paving the way for a new generation to come to be in Chapter two.

 

I hope you enjoyed my translation of chapter 1 of...I forget the title of this fucking book.  Oh well, I hope you enjoyed it anyway.  Have a nice day!