متن زیر را به فارسی بصورت دقیق و عالی ترجمه کن

Only the reader, finally, can decide if a chapter does indeed make sense in
the context of its novel. They can be straightforward or subtle, logical or
mystifying, transparent or opaque. They can be, as in Helen Fielding’s Bridget
Jones novels, diary entries for single days or, as in the openings of some James
A. Michener novels, records of geological time. None of that matters. What does
matter is that somehow, and that how is pretty variable, the chapter must work
for the novel that houses it.
I started thinking seriously about chapters a couple of decades ago when I
read one called “Oh, Mama, Can This Really Be the End?” Two things were
going on when I saw the title. First, like every other person of my generation, I
could complete the couplet: “to be stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis
Blues again.” It’s Bob Dylan, of course. No one else could or would write those
lines. The second thing I noticed was that the context had absolutely nothing to
do with Dylan or Memphis or Mobile or even America, except that its author
had, like me, first heard the song when it was new, in his youth. He’s T.
Coraghessan Boyle, whose nom de plume (his birth name is Thomas John
Boyle) ranks among my absolute favorites with Petroleum V. Nasby and Sparse
Grey Hackle. And the novel is Water Music, a wily mix of genres set in the late
eighteenth and very early nineteenth centuries and centered on the discovery and
early exploration of the River Niger. The novel bounces between dueling
storylines, one an adventure, or possibly misadventure, yarn involving the
historical discoverer of the Niger, Mungo Park. The other is a picaresque romp
featuring the entirely fictitious and wonderfully named Ned Rise, a ne’er-do-well
who manages to scuffle his way from one calamity to another yet keep on
scuffling. This being a contemporary novel, the reader knows which character
will, as it were, rise to the top by novel’s end. Indeed, the relative fortunes of the
high-and low-born protagonists constitutes one of Boyle’s main critiques of the
traditional novel. And the lengthy Dylan quotation relative to a very short (only
about a page) chapter reminds readers, were they ever in doubt, that this is a
postmodern novel. The anachronism, the cheeky attitude, the element of parody
that is present throughout all announce a take on the world and the novel that is
less than earnest, that is an attack on earnestness. That’s a lot for a tiny chapter
and its unwieldy title to accomplish.
When you see something like Boyle’s chapter, you have to consider the
function of chapters, or at least I do. And it turns out they can be anything. They
can be solid narratives, complete in themselves. They can even be freestanding
stories that make sense out of the context of their novel. They can focus on
single events or on chains of occurrences. They can be impressionistic
renderings or subjective responses to the events of the novel. They can be, in
short, whatever the novelist wants them to be.
So who benefits from chapters? Almost anyone whose stories are heavily
plot-driven. I already mentioned the great Victorians. But also mystery novelists,
writers of historical romances (or every other kind) or westerns or horror novels.
All those mini-endings allow for upticks in tension, suspense, or revelation. That
part’s pretty obvious, right? But also novelists who don’t plot much at all. A
writer of impressionistic fiction can indicate the organization of the larger work
through the organization of the smaller.
Most of all, readers. Chapters provide us with breaks in the reading. Hey,
never discount the dumb stuff. Even when we read straight through huge chunks,
those breaks provide moments to consider the implications of what we’ve just
read, to see how things are fitting together. Chapters tell us what’s important in
the novel, what’s important to the novel. How is it constructed? Does it
emphasize revelation or the withholding of information? Does it prize external
event or internal impression? Is it tight and coherent or loose and rambling?
Chapters help teach us how to read the novel. And we’ll take all the help we can
get.