Sentences in English
May. 19th, 2004 12:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickEvery so and when, I'll be gathering up the English sentences and posting them as a Memories thingamabob so that anyone with a copy of HPSS can easily see how well or poorly I did without having to go through all the posts one by each. Please note that I am not doing this so that people can have a "free" copy of the damn book. People who want a "free" copy of the book can get it in minutes off of bittorrent or similar, in the original version-by-Rowling instead of in my flavorless translated prose. Don't even go there, all right? Our story so far...
The residents at Number 4 Privet Drive, the Dursleys, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal people, thank god. These people, the sort who could not abide mysterious, occult foolishness, could not possibly have imagined the supernatural incident taking place on the outskirts of their neighborhood. Mr. Dursley was a manager for Grunnings, a company that made drills. Because he was so fat and beefy, he nearly didn't have a neck. Instead, he had a large mustache that stood out. This man's wife was skinny, blonde, and seemed to have a neck long enough for two normal people. Given that inquiring into the state of the neighborhood over the fence was her wont, the crane-like neck was honestly quite suited to her. The Dursleys had a son called Dudley. The Dursleys' idiot opinion was that no matter where anyone looked for such a thing, a finer boy could not be found. The way I've drawn this portrait will have to do, except that the Dursleys also had one secret. Their greatest fear was that someone would sniff out this secret. If anyone ever found out about the Potter family, it'd be all over. Mrs. Potter was really Mrs. Dursley's little sister, but the two of them hadn't met together even once in several years.
Well. That certainly lacks the roll and thunder of the original, doesn't it? Perhaps things will improve once we get out of the initial exposition.
The residents at Number 4 Privet Drive, the Dursleys, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal people, thank god. These people, the sort who could not abide mysterious, occult foolishness, could not possibly have imagined the supernatural incident taking place on the outskirts of their neighborhood. Mr. Dursley was a manager for Grunnings, a company that made drills. Because he was so fat and beefy, he nearly didn't have a neck. Instead, he had a large mustache that stood out. This man's wife was skinny, blonde, and seemed to have a neck long enough for two normal people. Given that inquiring into the state of the neighborhood over the fence was her wont, the crane-like neck was honestly quite suited to her. The Dursleys had a son called Dudley. The Dursleys' idiot opinion was that no matter where anyone looked for such a thing, a finer boy could not be found. The way I've drawn this portrait will have to do, except that the Dursleys also had one secret. Their greatest fear was that someone would sniff out this secret. If anyone ever found out about the Potter family, it'd be all over. Mrs. Potter was really Mrs. Dursley's little sister, but the two of them hadn't met together even once in several years.
Well. That certainly lacks the roll and thunder of the original, doesn't it? Perhaps things will improve once we get out of the initial exposition.
