An introduction
Translation is more than the mere issue of a mental process. It is both an intellectual enterprise and a physical task. Things become even more difficult when having to deal with a literary text: literature has its own determining features, and language, the instrument of its expression, is a self-sufficient living system in which every presupposition of perfection has been fulfilled. The risks a translator is obliged to take in this case are much similar to those taken by a surgeon who performs a delicate operation: although the result may perfectly be accomplished under conditions of utmost conscientiousness and knowledge, nothing can guarantee that the patient will eventually survive. In fact, a literary text rarely manages to survive without any more or less serious damages when transferred from one language into another. The task is excessively hazardous; skill in manipulating written speech is as essential as profound linguistic intuition and instruction; a wide spectrum of academic information is as indispensable as personal sensitivity to the subject one is occupied with.
Ronald Knox poses the fundamental question of whether the literal or literary aspect of a text is to prevail in a translation. The only possible answer to this would be that both aspects have to be equally taken into consideration. The internal system of a language is actually the primary determining factor in the construction, as well as in the meaning, of a text written in this language. But language is a human invention, and therefore administerd by human data. Different national groups have formed different mentalities, languages and civilisations, each according to their particular historical experience. The Hebrew language, for instance, contains no verb corresponding in meaning to the English verb "to have". Its equivalent is a periphrase signifying "(an object) is with me". Israeli novelist Amos Oz humorously remarks that if, instead of "to be or not to be", Hamlet were wondering "to have or not to have", the whole play would have been impossible to translate in modern Hebrew! This linguistic particularity is a remnant of the nomadic life of the Hebrew people in the past, when the notion of possession and property was unfamiliar due to material circumstances. To insist on a word-for-word translation of this expression into any modern European language, where the idea of property is clearly and definitely established, would obviously yield hilarious results. The translator must therefore be able to move with relative ease from one level of expression to another; and for this to be achieved, a certain flexibility is demanded, not so much towards the language of the original, but mainly towards the translator's own mother tongue.
Knox also wonders whether the translator is free to interpret "the sense of the original in any style and idiom he chooses" or not. The question is in fact rather unsubstantial, since the original in itself is a complete creation (one might also say "creature") with its own spine, limbs and individual features, and, most of all, its own undeniable and unshakeable logic. One can by no means ignore the style and idiom of the original: a tragic, amusing, ironical or neutral tonality will invariably remain so no matter the language. The mood of the original always has to be respected. The truth is that, once a translator, one is by definition limited within the field of one's own preconceptions and possibilities, that is, never free to choose. One might at most be given the chance, provided, of course, that the text lends itself to such a process, to discreetly comment upon the context through the use of a certain kind of diction; but a danger lurks here that the translated text might end up as a paraphrase, or even worse, a parody in bad taste of its original. If such a personal involvement on the translator's part results in the alteration of a text's "personality", then the translator has definitely failed. Emotional involvement is, of course, inevitable; but here the translator should, as Sartre observes, invest his own sensitivity in the interpretation of the "borrowed passions" described in the original. To form a successful and harmonious whole, the style and content of a text (as well as of any other intellectual or artistic creation) must eventually become identified. And this identity of form and meaning, of the signifying and the signified, has to be profoundly felt and understood so as to be transferred safe and sound into the language of arrival.
One of the most important modern linguists and literary critics, George Steiner, complains, for his part, of the "very meagre" number of "original, significant ideas" on the subject of translation. But the number of similar ideas on the matter of literature itself is equally meagre, which does not actually signify or prove anything. What really matters is not so much the theory of intellectual processes, but the processes themselves and their visible, audible or tangible fruit. Physical proof invariably precedes abstract generalisations; most objects and phenomena have existed before their names were invented and scientific theories or laws concerning them were formulated. If we accept Tolstoy's statement that each work of art constitutes more or less a portrait of its creator, then every monument of written speech is the image and likeness of its writer. And in this light the translator's task acquires a thrilling quality, that of a point of transcendance from where the created universe will be projected onto a different level, a different universe, in which the author will in a way be impersonated by the translator so that his portrait beneath and between the lines remains intact.
A note on translating poetry
The poems presented here are part of the fruit of 10 years' hard labour and research over the matter of translating poetry. It all began as a simple bet with myself, only to turn into an irresistible challenge and end up in an obsessive hunt for perfection and clarity of form. Having up to then mainly dealt with the professional translation of novels and magazine articles, this headlong dive into the magically harmonious universe of condensed poetic forms was for me a literal baptism by fire. It would not be an exaggeration to say that while working on these poems, Walt Whitman's plea for "Outline!" kept hammering in my head. I do hope the visitors of this site enjoy and - why not - love the poems I chose to share with them as much as I did.
You may have noticed that the featuring samples are described as either "translated" or "adapted". The "translated" ones are those whose transfer into English demanded the least possible (or no) alteration in their form or content. The "adapted" ones bear a greater deal of intervention on the translator's part. In either case, sincere - and often painful - efforts were made to keep as close to the letter and spirit of the original as possible.
Indicative bibliography
- Apollinaire, Guillaume: Alcools, Le Bestiaire, Vitam Impendere Amori (Gallimard, Paris 1920)
- Barthes, Roland: Le Degre Zero de l'Ecriture (Editions du Seuil, 1953)
- Baudelaire, Charles: Les Fleurs du Mal (Gallimard, Paris 1972)
- Bergez, Daniel: La Poesie Francaise du XXe Siecle (Bordas, Paris 1986)
- Bonnard, Henri: Code du Francais Courant (Magnard, Paris 1990)
- Butor, Michel: La Modification (Les Editions de Minuit, Paris 1960)
- Cavafy, Constantine P.: The Poems (Ikaros, Athens 1952)
- Cirlot, Juan Eduardo: Diccionario de Simbolos (Editorial Labor SA, Barcelona 1992)
- Ducasse, Isidore, le Comte de Lautreamont: Les Chants de Maldoror, Poesies I et II, Correspondance (Flammarion, Paris, 1990)
- Evola, Julius: La Tradizione Ermetica (Edizioni Mediterranee, Rome 1971)
- Garcia Lorca, Federico: Sonetos del Amor Oscuro (Bootleg Edition, Granada 1989)
- Karyotakis, Kostas G.: Elegies & Satires (Ideogramma, Athens 1998)
- March, Robert H.: Physics for Poets (Mc Graw-Hill Inc., USA 1992)
- Todorov, Tzvetan: Poetique de la Prose (Editions du Seuil, Paris 1971)
- Verlaine, Paul: La Bonne Chanson, Romances sans Paroles, Sagesse (Livre de Poche, Paris 1963)
- Villon, Francois: Le Grant Testament Villon et le Petit. Son Codicille. Le Jargon et ses Ballades (Pierre Levet, Paris 1489)
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