Lina Brockdorff’s beautiful War Memoirs, originally published in Maltese as Sireni u Serenati, are now available in English. But oddly enough, no mention whatsoever has been made in the papers and in the many promotional reviews which appeared all over the place, that the English translation of the work was mine. And cynical that I am, I think that this has been intentional all along. Only, I don’t know why. It is after all ethical that a translated work carries the name of its translator. But ethics on these tiny islands are not exactly on top of everyone’s agenda.

Indeed, I am not surprised, and by now I have grown used to having my name deliberately ignored, and can well guess why. Many still remember the day Roberto Benigni was invited over to Malta to have an Honoris Causa and was informed by some wise guy at the University of Malta that there was no Maltese translation of Dante’s Commedia.

Not only was I completely left out of the picture, but a few other wise guys at the University had the cheek to distribute pamphlets with my tampered translation of Canto XXXIII of the Paradiso, without even seeking my permission.

And more recently, during the distinguished actor and director Mario Micallef’s lengthy biography on TVM, reference to the many theatrical works I had  written  exclusively for Micallef was repeatedly made, but my name was not mentioned even once, in spite  of the fact that by then I had already been collaborating with him for nearly 17 years.

I don’t know exactly who lurks behind these studies in gross unethical behaviour, although I know very well  why;  and by now I am more than ever convinced that more than a question of sheer (un)ethics, the scope behind it all is saturated in shades of deep green.