Following on from my previous post, here’s another illustration of a wolf and a girl.
This time, I’ve tried my hand at a Japanese-style design.
I love to hear your free feel.
Please enjoy! 😊
Hello everyone.
I'm a Japanese writer, and English is not my first language.
I'm currently working on a gothic fantasy novel, and I'd love to hear how this passage feels to native English speakers.
I'm not looking for line-by-line editing. I'm more interested in your overall impression:
①Does it sound natural?
②Does the prose feel awkward or translated?
③What emotions or impressions does it evoke?
④What kind of atmosphere does it create?
Passage: [A]
Deep within the remote highlands of Eastern Europe―
beyond human settlements, beyond even the paths of travelers—
an ancient castle stood atop an unforgiving cliff of stone.
Behind it stretched a dark forest, dense and silent.
And then, quite suddenly, the world seemed to end.
A wall of sheer rock rose high toward the sky, as if to declare:
"This is as far as living beings may go."
Tonight, a full moon hung in the sky.
The night sky glowed brighter than usual, yet the mystery of the darkness only deepened.
The landscape was steeped in a density of shadow so profound that it threatened to deny the very outlines of reality itself.
Bathed in moonlight, the gray castle resembled the figurehead of a ship forever denied departure―
its prow fixed in place, stranded in time.
It even seemed to give shape to a frustration―
as though the castle itself had been frozen within the flow of centuries.
“Frustration… that should have vanished ages ago.”
The voice belonged to a man standing alone in one of the castle’s chambers.
He gazed at his hand, rimmed in pale moonlight.
Those bloodless fingers had remained unchanged for centuries.
He had never imagined that living among things that never changed could be so profoundly tedious.
―or could this even be called 'living'?
A faint, self-mocking laugh escaped him.
With an elegant motion, he withdrew a pocket watch from the breast pocket of his jacket.
He stared at its unmoving hands with the same look as those who carefully turn old diary pages, as if verifying their own memories again and again.
In his cold, ice-blue eyes, fragments of immeasurable years flickered like phantoms.
Dreams and ideals of youth.
The bitterness of love that once pierced his heart.
Days spent lamenting in search of salvation for the soul.
None of it stirred him now.
“And yet… why does my heart feel so restless tonight?”
His expression remained stern, but the corner of his mouth loosened slightly as he now cast the words deliberately into empty space.
Between his pale lips, sharp canine teeth briefly flashed themselves.
His profile looked like a sculpture carved by the darkness seeping from within him—
restrained only by a cool, ironic smile.
Passage: [B]
As Victor stepped toward the entrance, a porter who noticed him hurried down the stairs.
“My lord,”
the man said, struggling to maintain courtesy,
“forgive my boldness, but may I inquire about that… item you are carrying?”
―An understandable reaction,
Victor thought.
Without betraying any emotion, he replied evenly,
“And by what authority do you presume to question my belongings?”
The porter’s face drained of color.
“N-no, of course not. However, in the case of… SUCH LUGGAGE, for reasons of safety, we are required to―”
His explanation faltered, and his eyes flicked nervously toward the entrance hall.
At once, the front manager appeared, having grasped the situation. After offering a meticulous bow, he spoke with measured care.
“My lord, I am keenly aware of the impropriety of this request. Nevertheless, for security purposes alone, may I ask what your luggage contains?”
Victor answered without changing his expression.
“Clothing. Shaving tools. The necessities of travel. I was unable to find a trunk of suitable size.”
“I understand,” the manager said.
“Then, if I may trouble you once more, could you assure us that it poses no danger to our establishment?”
“Certainly. If you wish, I will even put it in writing.”
“No, your word will suffice. In that case, please allow me to escort you to reception. This way, if you please.”
Victor followed the manager inside, signed his name at the front desk, and was guided to a room on the top floor.
As someone born in 1973 in Japan, I've been reflecting on how America looked to many Gen X kids growing up overseas.
Top Gun, Levi's, Hollywood, and the idea of the frontier all shaped my image of America.
I'm curious—did any of you ever think about how American culture was perceived abroad during the 1980s and 1990s?
I'd love to hear your memories and perspectives.