Lost in Translation

I like to read, almost too much.  If a book is too interesting, I'll keep reading it and neglect other important things like going for walks or knitting or sleeping.  Therefore weekday reading must not be too interesting and so I am currently re-reading Don Quixote.  The first time was for my university novel class which was twenty years ago.  Don Q has gotten livelier and more interesting over the years.  What, you say my comprehension has grown?  How kind of you.

The thing I want to share with you is the translator's note to the following passage.  In this scene Don Quixote's friends and housekeeper are going over his books deciding which ones to burn because they believe that the novels of chivalry have blurred Don Q's grasp on reality, causing him to think he is a knight.

"With all my heart," said the barber; and not caring to tire himself with reading more books of chivalry, he told the housekeeper to take all the big ones and throw them into the yard. It was not said to one dull or deaf, but to one who enjoyed burning them more than cleaning out the biggest and finest cobwebs. So, seizing about eight at a time, she flung them out of the window.

 I am reading a Norton critical edition, geared towards students.  The footnote adds clarification for the translation of what the housekeeper enjoyed less than burning the books; the part in italics. The footnote explains:

Ormsby and others translate this as "weave cloth" or "weave a tapestry," which seems illogical.  Perhaps the text is faulty.

Faulty!  I laughed out loud.  When I think of the fiber artists I know and read about who can barely keep their hands off their projects, I perfectly well understand what Cervantes was writing here and I'll bet you do too.  The online translations do better by the author's original intentions:

"With all my heart," said the barber; and not caring to tire himself with reading more books of chivalry, he told the housekeeper to take all the big ones and throw them into the yard. It was not said to one dull or deaf, but to one who enjoyed burning them more than weaving the broadest and finest web that could be; and seizing about eight at a time, she flung them out of the window.

 Ah yes!  That would be a true test of what is more enjoyable.  I think what was really lost in translation was a man's comprehension of how much a woman might enjoy her weaving.