I would be terrified to translate a text with an older translation as widely revered as Moncrieff's Proust. It would feel like taking a shot at a beloved king, with all his men armed and at the ready at my back. I like what Nelson admits in his translator's preface, that inherent in any retranslation is an "implicit critique" and respect very much his boldness in proceeding with his retranslation all the same. His criticisms of Moncrieff's translation made me wonder again about Deborah Smith (who we so mercilessly crucified last week) and if what she did was really so different from him. I've read neither texts in their originals or their translations so any I impression I've formed is based on pure hearsay, but it seems like they've both altered the voice and therefore the effect of the author's narrative voice, and both translations were well received by their audiences. Why are so many ready to forgive Moncrieff and not Smith? Or could it just be that his contemporary criticisms have been washed away by the tides of time and all that remains are those who continue to enjoy his version on its own merits. Will Smith's Vegetarian enjoy the same legacy? Maybe it's still too soon to tell.
Although I did find Kilmartin's approach to retranslation a little "derivative" at the time, now I see that it was honest and gave credit to Moncrieff's translation where credit was due.
"Even good readers – and good writers – have told me that when they tried to read it, they got sleepy." I felt very validated hearing this, I also felt very validated by her "blind" translation method (which happens to also be my MO). I think Lydia Davis might be my new role model—I agreed with everything she said.
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