Mary Elliot, 3/25 Readings

 On the newspaper coverage:

• The issue with Rijneveld seems to be twofold. First that Gorman herslef selected Rijeveld (Guardian article), as "a fellow young writer who had also come to fame early." The second part of the issue is that apparently (NY Times article) there were several qualified Black spoken word poets who were overlooked for the opportunity. What is unclear to me is whether Gorman was given a list from the publisher that excluded those poets and she chose Rijneveld from that list, or whether she herself suggested Rijneveld out of previous acquaintance with their work/Booker prize. If the issue is that she was given a list or something that excluded Black spoken word poets, that's clearly a significant injustice. But if she chose the writer herself based on the excellence of their work, we've drastically assigned an "otherness" to Gorman's identity that is unnecessary. 
• The NY Times article also mentioned that German translators took a group approach, which seems to safeguard some of the mistakes (eg, the Morrison example) that could happen in translating Black American literature in contexts without slavery.
• Finally, I really appreciate the format of the Patel and Youssef piece. I appreciated so many of the perspectives of translators they quoted. I do think the heart of the issue comes through with one, in particular, "I am a writer as well as a translator, which I like to think means I approach language with a lot of intention. I would even go so far as to say that I approach it with more intention than white writers and translators, if only because my claims of mastery over it are always tenuous, always being called into question." I think what all of us hope for in a translator is someone who understands the untranslatability of the piece on some level, but who also believes in the power of this piece as a worthy piece of literature, which means its plurality of meanings can resonate in other languages. I think the most essential thing is that the translator comes to the project with the intention of care and an awareness of limits. 
• Lastly, I think the question of access and the notes about the Iowa program's inability to recruit minority students is extremely important. This question -- I think -- applies to class differences as well. 

Leah Smolin 3.25 Readings

Who gets to translate Amanda Gorman?

I agree with Achy Obejas that there are "no easy answers" to the question of identity and translation, and that identity impacts the work. If this controversy means black translators get more jobs and opportunities, that’s a good thing, but it doesn’t solve inequality, and any sphere where only a few people get to do the job is fundamentally unfair. It means five people in the world got a cool opportunity. That matters, but it isn’t changing society. Like Patel and Youssef say in their article: “Promoting diversity”, “celebrating multilingualism”, “nurturing minority talent”, and “championing international voices” are all things that can be done without acknowledging or challenging underlying structures.

All the Violence It May Carry on its Back – 

Gitanjali Patel and Nariman Youssef

“The experience of grappling with, translating from, your heritage language can be intense and emotional, you have a different relationship to the language…” 

One of the anecdotes from translators of color that stood out to me was about grappling with your heritage language and how it can be “intense and emotional, you have a different relationship to the language…” I’ve talked to friends about this who grew up translating for their parents. Translation can be so emotionally loaded when it’s connected to your relationship to your family (including the unhappiness therein) and it’s also a moment where you might be made fun of or dismissed or simply not understood, which especially makes you feel vulnerable when you’re young. Then as an adult, I imagine of course it brings back a lot of memories and emotions. 

“But you still feel insecure that you learnt the language in the home, you didn't learn it in a thorough and formal way…” 

“Formal” education is so overvalued, where everything has to be through an institution and have some official stamp on it! Yet we all know intuitively the best way to learn anything is to do it. Professionalization is the death of art.

Translation and Identity - Olsson

 I was very interested in the readings, especially the “Conversation About Diversity and Literary Translation”. On a personal note, one line from that piece suggested that translators were generally assumed to be white English speakers; this surprised me, as before taking this class I generally assumed that translators were more likely to be native speakers of a language (ie spanish) that they were translating into English. My perception of translation was a very global, diverse discipline, so I’m curious about the profession’s own thoughts, which are apparently differing. Beyond that, though, I enjoyed the discussion of heritage language and translation—it reminded me of the speaker who visited the lecture series and spoke about translating a diary from the Cortez expedition. She spoke about her personal connection to the history of the piece, and how much more invested it made her. That level of passion is what I hope can be found behind every translation project.

As for the question of identity, I find it a bit difficult to answer as I’m not a POC. However, I am queer, and much of my own writing is related to that aspect of my identity. I think I would be ok with a non-queer person translating my work, specifically because of a portion of the Bhanoo article that struck with me: Junot Diaz wanted a Caribbean translator for his novel, and he got one, but Obejas is specifically listed as having dived into Dominican culture by listening to their radio stations, speaking with Dominican people, and consulting with the author over specifics of the book. I think any dedicated, thoughtful translator is capable of (and should be!) doing those things. However, I also think that an author should be allowed to make whatever requests they want about the translators they work with; if you feel like you need a Caribbean, then find one. By the same token, though, the Guardian article says that Amanda Gorman chose the white Dutch translator herself, and that should have also been respected. In my opinion, the most important factor of translation is the comparability between the author and the translator by whichever metrics the author chooses. While Amanda Gorman is “unapologetically black,” if she felt her work could be fully understood and appreciated by Rijneveld, then there should have been no issue with them working together. It’s a shame to see that two authors who seemed to be fans of each other’s work were kept apart because of one’s identity (to be clear, I refer to Gorman here, as it seems like there was extra pressure and scrutiny placed upon her due to her being black).

3/25 Readings - Lane

 These readings also called to mind a symposium presentation I saw last year, wherein there was a discussion of the Korean translation of The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. The novel utilizes African American Vernacular English quoted from interviews and other primary sources, and in Korean, the AAVE was rendered in the Jeolla dialect of Korean, a dialect associated with dissent, protest, and uprisings; and often stereotyped as "backwards," "rough" or "scary." This translation was criticized for insensitivity, in that the cultural contexts surrounding AAVE and the Jeolla dialect are not equivalent, and the racial dynamics and importance of the Lacks' family's AAVE are removed from the translation, much like how they were omitted from a Spanish translation of Toni Morrison’s “Beloved." The discussion about colonialism is important to consider in this case, as well---AAVE exists due to violent linguistic imposition. The testimony in Patel and Youssef's piece from the speaker who considers AAVE their language elucidates this:

 "underneath the violently enforced 'standard' English I think of as a veneer, our true language was African American Vernacular English, a variation on the English that was brutalized into my bloodline in the place of anything I would have been able to call a mother tongue. AAVE repurposes imperial English and ruptures its constraints. It’s dynamic. It’s warm. It’s evocative. It is the closest thing I have to something I can call my language."

AAVE holds a unique cultural and linguistic position; it inherently pushes back against colonial boundaries and violent linguistic imperialism, and to translate AAVE as another dialect that does not have the same colonial implications is dangerous. Still, to ignore it in translation is just as dangerous; a translator who understands the violence on a personal level can portray that violence, that colonial experience.

3.25 readings Kelly Haddad

These articles contribute to an incredibly important and nuanced discussion about the responsibility of translators. What stood out to me the most from the Guardian article was the mention that Amanda Gorman herself actually chose the translator. If this is true, the identity of the translator is less of an issue. The NYT article, however, was unable to state for certain that Gorman was involved in this decision or not. It does seem like a rather questionable choice even just given Rijneveld's lack of translation experience. Gorman's work is also directly tied to her identity; she isn't writing generalized works of fiction, but rather commentaries on experiences that are likely shared among others with similar backgrounds. Thus, it is even more important to make sure the tone and message are accurately portrayed. As a side note, I enjoyed the John McWhorter reference in the NYT article; one of my previous classes spend a considerable amount of time discussing the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, and we read from his book "The Language Hoax". Aside from the classic issues with properly translating tone and ideas, there is the other issue of opportunity in the field, which is driving a lot of the emotions behind this debate. I enjoyed the format of the asymptote article, and reading the perspectives of translators from all sorts of linguistic backgrounds. The Washington Post article brought up the availability of certain specific combinations of identity and language in translators, and how there may not be enough people in the field to cover all the diverse experiences of authors. Regardless of the translator, it is always of utmost importance to be incredibly thorough with research while translating, and ensure that the focus is on contextualizing the source text in the author's personal experiences and identity. 

3/25 Claire Kapitan

 In Bhanoo’s article about who should translate Amanda Gorman’s work, I liked how she explored the importance of understanding not just a language, but what it's like to live in that language—in an experience adjacent to the one described or explored in the original text: 

“A good translation conveys the “untranslatables,” or what is being conveyed without actually

being explicitly written” (paraphrasing Junot Días). I thought this was interesting because it made me think about all of the holes between words that are filled by understanding and trust in what is there. If I’m reading a scene about a beach and the waves are written about, the sand is written about, I might also picture the sky, what it might sound like, etc., but if something is a bit odd and the image starts to become one I don’t trust in, this entire world and experience crumbles. 

I think that is why identities, sensibilities, and experiences matter so much in translation. In the NYT’s article, the group of translators working on Gorman’s work were stuck on the word “skinny.” The way I understand the word, it doesn’t sound particularly extreme in the context of Gorman’s poem, and I found it interesting that some translators were struggling to find a word that wouldn’t be distracting, or that wouldn’t conjure up an image of “of an overly thin woman.”

This goes to show how much sensitivity is needed when working with a language, beyond just fluency. If translation is a bridge between two distinct cultures, a translator only brings back what they can carry. How equipped they are for the load determines how much is lost along the way. 

I also liked how this article explored the scarcity of Black translators, a problem underlying the controversy with Gorman. 

Power dynamics were further explored in “All the Violence…” by Gitanjali Patel and Nariman Youssef: “Only when we shine the light on the power dynamics inherent in the way we are told to do translation, on what we get criticized or lauded for, will the private, complex, layered subjectivities of diverse translators find the space to flourish.” I thought this piece was so creatively written, giving us glimpses of individual struggle and experience within translation. I also liked how it explored problems around the idea “only translate in your native tongue:” “This relationship privileges language-learning on a foundation of monolingualism, discounting the phenomena of migration and the experiences of migrants; it renders the majority world—where colonial languages prevail—invisible.”  

About the Amanda Gorman debacle — Maria Antonia Blandon

 I had heard about this case many years ago; someone brought it up to the research group in translation I attended during my undergraduate studies, as a discussion prompt with a controversial, or ‘spicy’ intention behind it. In this group, we were all translators with diverse backgrounds; some had been published already and worked as full-time translators, some had just started their education as translators, and others just wanted to share their passion for translation. But the main characteristic that united us was our skin color: we were all white. I remember that none of us really understood what the problem was, whether it made a difference that the translator was white, black, non-binary, Hispanic, native, and so on, because we considered that what made a translator stand out was merit (publications, awards, overall presence in the field). Under that logic, we all agreed that choosing Rijneveld was in order due to their work which had been awarded the International Booker Prize; if anything, that could be a reassurance of their poetic capability, making them suitable to take on the challenge of translating Gorman’s poetry. 

Now I can take a step back, since time has passed and I’ve been exposed to other contexts aside from white Latin American scholarship, and recognize that the discussion was grounded on the very problem in the center of all translation discourse: who is the translator? It wasn’t as much about who can translate, because that would be a fruitless discussion since we can agree on the ethical limitations behind it, but about the person who can support the choices made in the translation. A fitting example was the Spanish translation of Toni Morrison’s Beloved, as quoted in the Bhanoo article, since what was being questioned was not the requirements to translate that novel, but the choices made in the translation: can ‘sirviente’ work for ‘slave’ given the different denotative notions and connotative uses? How can the dialogue by African-American characters that Morrison carefully writes in so a reader can recognize them be reconstructed into Spanish? The problem lies in the understanding of the work by a translator, who has the task of isolating the most crucial poetic instances that identify the work, and making sure they can also be recognized in the resulting translation. It’s also a question of knowing yourself, your abilities, your strategies, your work ethic as a translator, if reconstructing these instances prove to be such a difficult task that goes beyond your practice, then you might have to consider giving up so you can give others a chance to succeed in what you could possibly have failed. I think that’s the reason why Rijneveld stepped down and also chose to not say anything about it, apart from the public pressure that painted them as inefficient. They understood that Gorman’s project was proving to be more complex than what they thought, so best to give others a chance at what they understand this work is.

3/25 Readings -- Ellie

This topic is very interesting, and reminds me of a similar discussion I had in one of my other classes about whether authors should be allowed to write from the perspective of a person from a culture different from their own. My thoughts on these two topics are different, though, I think. Most of the readings for today made it clear that their answer is not black and white, that the answer is not just a yes or no because the entire system of translation needs a revamping before we can address this topic, and I agree. I think this is a very nuanced argument, and honestly I can see both sides. I think that people of a certain culture or background should always get the first opportunity to translate for people of that same culture, because this way, the message can be so much more effective and sincere. However, I also understand how people from different cultures can feel that their skills or merits are not valued, and that they have only been chosen for a translation to fulfill the proper "diversity points." I don't really have an answer other than this, to be completely honest. I am white, so I feel like my opinion doesn't really matter except to support people from other cultures and their opinions. 

I will say, though, that while the first three articles were really informative and interesting, I found the last article to be very confusing, and the way they broke up the paragraphs and ideas really didn't make sense to me. I am aware they were just providing a range of perspectives, but it felt like they were doing a lot of jumping around so that the point they were trying to make was hard to get ahold of. 

3/25 Readings - Cheryl

Who should translate Amanda Gorman’s work? That question is ricocheting around the translation industry 

This whole discourse reminds me a little of people who judge restaurants by the nationality of the chef—the chef of this Korean restaurant is Korean so it must be good! But my opinion has always been that just being from a place doesn't make you a good cook. I'm from Singapore, but it doesn't mean I can make a good chilli crab (I know because I've tried). Instead, I think you should judge the quality of a restaurant by the nationalities of its customers. If you enter a Korean restaurant and you're suddenly surrounded with Korean-speaking people, it's a good sign because people who would have had access and familiarity with the cuisine in its native context have deemed the quality of the food here to be acceptable to them. All this to say, I think it's a matter of reception and taste. I don't think being qualified to translate comes from identity at its face value. You could be from the same place as the author and not have a strong enough grasp on the target language to translate the original text well, but if we take language proficiency as a given, I can see that a translator would be more likely to understand the motivations and experiences that the work is trying to convey if they shared a similar background.That is really what I think is being triangulated when we're looking for a translator of a similar identity and I think it might be narrow-minded to insist that no one could ever truly understand an experience outside of their own very specific upbringing and culture. 

Shocked by the uproar': Amanda Gorman's white translator quits

I was surprised to hear that the uproar was in spite of the translator being Gorman's own choice. If she had decided it didn't matter that the translator wasn't a young, black woman like herself, should her opinion not count for anything? An additional thought, if we can only ever translate writers of the same background as us, does it mean that all white American translators have to wait for a white American writer to write something in a language that's not English before they can find a project they're qualified to translate? If you follow these objections to their logical conclusion we end up with something quite ridiculous. 

Amanda Gorman’s Poetry United Critics. It’s Dividing Translators

There was another point brought up here that sometimes not being able to choose a translator of a similar background is merely a matter of practicality. There won't be combinations of every possible language and identity, and in many cases the fact of knowing another language necessitates that your cultural background would be different from the authors. Would a Black person who had grown up in Greece and knew Greek fluently (if they existed) have had a comparable experience to Amanda Gorman anyway?

All the Violence It May Carry on its Back: A Conversation about Diversity and Literary Translation

It seems like there's no winning. If you learned the language as an adult, your grasp on the language and culture must not be deep enough; if you learned the language as a child, your competency must not be literary enough. I have no answers, maybe everyone should just translate everything and let one hundred prismatic flowers of translation flourish.

Something that Chloe García Roberts said during the Q&A session of her lecture has stuck with me ever since. On translation Chinese poetry compared to Spanish she said, "When I'm translating from Spanish, I ask myself if I have the right to be here and the answer is a resounding 'Yes!' but when I translate from Chinese, I'm always aware that I'm a guest in this language..." Is she not qualified to translate Chinese poetry because she's not Chinese? (Am I Chinese enough to translate Chinese poetry? But I know full well from personal experience that just because I have Chinese DNA and a Chinese face doesn't mean I know Classical Chinese)

24/03 Reading Response - Sanjana Thakur

 Amanda Gorman translation debate

• All the three articles about the Gorman translation were interesting lenses through which to view this specific issue that I see as a microcosm of a larger issue within the writing/publishing world. I feel the same way about this specific controversy as I did when American Dirt came out, for example, and the question was raised of––is it appropriate for a white American woman to write a migrant Mexican story? This comes up over and over, in contexts as big and public as book releases and as small and private as creative writing workshops. On the first day of my first ever fiction workshop at Wellesley College, my (white) instructor had us read "Who Gets to Write What?" by Kaitlyn Greenidge, an NYT op-ed where Greenidge poses the question of race in writing. The conclusion she comes to is anyone can write anything, but not without accountability if harm is caused. Write what you want, but be prepared to face consequences if you mess up. 
• I generally agree with that stance––I think, like Nuria Barrios says in the NYT article, it would be somewhat ludicrous for only white people to translate white people, only brown people to translate brown people, etc. But I think the larger issue here is a question of access. Even as publishing has made attempts to uplift underrepresented voices, the great majority of writers being published is still white. When POC writers have such a difficult time getting traditionally published, it feels unfair for white writers to write POC experiences. 
• In that same sense, I agree with Janice Deul in the NYT article and Elisabeth Jaquette in the Bhanoo article. There are structural issues that make it harder for non-white people to get opportunities in the publishing/translating industry. As long as that is the case, it feels important to make the extra effort to seek out translators of colour.
• To sum up my feelings on this, I think white writers/translators can write/translate non-white experiences, given enough thoughtfulness, empathy, and research. Should they, in an unequal industry where POC are structurally disadvantaged? That's a different question. 
• I think it's very cool that Aji (in the Bhanoo article) sees as relevant and valid experience the translation immigrant children have to do to support their parents in their day-to-day lives.
• Collaboration, like of the German team, seems like such an excellent way to approach something as complicated, nuanced, and layered as translation. 

Patel and Youssef, "All the Violence It May Carry on its Back"

• The way Patel and Youssef describe mainstream/traditional translation––"They come to learn and read “other” languages out of curiosity about the “outside” world. Translation is a bridge between two distinct cultures. Literatures are gateways into foreign lands. Translators cross the bridge, step through the gateway, and find the treasures hidden on the other side. They bring back what they can carry. Some things might get lost on the way."––reminds me of colonial anthropology. This idea that an anthropologist was a white person going into some exotic non-white locale to bring their assumptions about that place and people back to their white homes. Anthropology has reckoned and continues to reckon with its origins as a colonial discipline and I think has shifted beyond that tradition. I hope translation has too.  
• An Olga Tokarczuk mention! I loooooved Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead. I have copies of The Books of Jakob and The Empusium waiting to be read. 
• "Whenever someone asks what my first language is, they get a speech about colonialism and its aftereffects. I'm sorry, did you think that was a simple question?" So true. 
• "Translators who work with “heritage” languages are rarely part of mainstream literary translation conversations. And those who are invited in can be seen to be doing the service of bringing in “outsider” voices. If a white translator works from a minoritized language, their work is seen to be especially generous, selfless, or adventurous. The same praise does not apply if the translator is a heritage user of the language they translate from. Then they are seen as not having had much of a choice. They are seen as examples of raw talent over delicate craft." - This section again reminded me of anthropology, where an anthropologist of colour working within their own community is looked down upon and viewed as less valuable, while a white anthropologist working within that same community is viewed as more legitimate. 
• "“Promoting diversity”, “celebrating multilingualism”, “nurturing minority talent”, and “championing international voices” are all things that can be done without acknowledging or challenging underlying structures, without facing how the practice of translation itself centres whiteness and Westerness, and how it defaults to reflecting and replicating colonial patterns. The subsequent erasure of the Other follows patterns of colonial violence. English is a colonial language. The work of anglophone translators–venturing out, bringing back, understanding the other by making them in their image–follows the routes of colonial acquisition. English is also a global language. The literatures written in English often grapple with its imperial legacies. Why can’t literary translation do the same? How can translators work with this larger-than-life language without acknowledging all the violence it may carry?" I think this is a good lens through which to view the Amanda Gorman stuff - easy enough to fire a white translator in this specific case and get better optics. Much harder to enact structural changes that decentre whiteness. 

I really enjoyed the readings for this week––they raise complicated questions and make me think more carefully about my own choices and my own positionality when I am translating. I wish we'd done this section of reading much earlier in the semester, so the questions raised here could have been something to ruminate over each week and keep coming back to. 

03/25 Reading Responses -- Lachlan Bowden

 Reading about the discussion surrounding the Amanda Gorman and Marieke Lucas Rijneveld translation was really interesting. Specifically how the Guardian article differed from the New Yorker. A difference that I noticed, and kept thinking about, was how the Guardian explicitly said it was Gorman’s choice to have Rijneveld as the translator: “Meulenhoff said it was Rijneveld’s decision to resign, and that Gorman, who is 22, had selected the 29-year-old herself, as a fellow young writer who had also come to fame early.” Whereas the New Yorker maintained that this decision was somewhat unclear and surrounded Gorman’s agent company, Writers’ House. I wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret this, or where the Guardian got this information from. Because we are dealing with intellectual property, I do feel like a hefty portion of the decision hinges on this. Regardless, the points raised about the scarcity of Black translators in the community indicates that more opportunities should be afforded to the community. I’m looking forward to discussing in class how the comparison of writer to translator identity impacts the process, and the insight and quality of the translation. Further, Sindya Bhanoo’s article was fascinating, reading about the discourse surrounding the translation Facebook page, set up by Aron Aji, highlighted just how contentious this topic is within the translation world. I think what Achy Obejas said about “there [being] no question that a translator’s identity has an impact on the translation”, made total sense. And if those arguing for merit based translation, for the most skillful translator to take the wheel, then would the lack of understanding of the writer’s struggle/ plight/ experience not hinder this? I’m not entirely sure, looking forward to hearing peoples’ thoughts. 

The other article by Gitanjali Patel and Nariman Youssef was really engaging and beautifully composed. Hearing the personal experiences and ways in which non-white translators must navigate the industry is important. As many industries tethered to the academic realm, the movement to decolonise our attitudes and outlooks seems to be gruelingly slow. This is why articles such as this one, hearing the experiences of these writers and translators, is so valuable.  

3/25 Reading Response Lauren M

Reading this week’s articles, I felt very sad for the translation community and for Amanda Gorman. The NYT article ended in a good place in pointing out that the debate over who should translate Gorman seemed to overshadow Gorman’s message of bringing people together. I thought the approach the German publisher took in assembling a team that worked closely with the author sounded effective and appealing. I was confused by some of the mixed messaging between the articles—in the Guardian article it’s reported (by the publisher) that Gorman selected Rijneveld as a translator herself. I tried to search for Gorman’s response to this controversy and couldn’t find anything. I was interested in how Bhanoo in the Washington Post article delved into the hyper-specific of identity matching via Junot Díaz’s wish list for his ideal translator for The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. It reminded me a lot of the politics within psychotherapy, and in recent years a perseverance on “matching” identities between therapist and client (as if anyone has an uncomplicated relationship with their identity, as if any single person can truly understand another single person). It made me grateful for the solace offered in Leeder’s talk on Friday about prismatic translation, which, as I understood it, allows for multiple truths and understandings, and a hope that we are all doing our best and approaching this work tenderly and with good intent. The article by Patel and Youssef was illuminating and oddly comforting (it reminded me a lot of experiences I’ve had in the field of psychotherapy, and it’s nice to know that my profession is not the only one with these types of issues). 

18/03 Reading Response - Sanjana Thakur

I'm so sorry this is so late! 

Godayol, "Metaphors, women and translation"

• The bottom of page 100 listing out the "different models of sexual relationships in translation discourses" was amusing. The gender metaphor does seem like it relies on patriarchal ideas to sustain itself. 
• The metaphor of the borderland, the in-between or interstitial, feels far more compelling to me, especially since that can link us more smoothly to the concepts of foreignising and domesticating texts that have been essential to our class conversations this semester. 
• "To translate is to live between difference and non-difference, in a state of dissolution where centres are inexistent... There are mysteries, surprises and questions that remain unanswerable but that nevertheless must be voiced. It implies recognising that solutions are often only partial and always varied" (107-108). 
• I was interested in how autoethnography comes up here––I've learnt it in the anthropological context as a term that lends academic legitimacy to personal or anecdotal experience. q
• With "cultural mothers of translation" and the Athena/Medusa stuff it felt like the last section was coming back around to the gender metaphor. 

Cavanagh, "The Art of Losing"

• I really enjoyed reading this essay! Of course I know "One Art", but Cavanagh introduced me to so many wonderful translations here. 
• "All loss is converted into gain" (238). 
• "This is what I will call the tradition of 'joyful failure,' in which the poet is plagued not so much by the world's emptiness as by its unplumbable abundance. 'You can't have everything. Where would you put it?' the comedian Steven Wright asks. Certainly not in a single poem, or even in a single human life" (241). 
• I appreciated the expansive nature of this essay––Cavanagh draws in so many people and ideas and still makes the essay readable. 

Pelczar, "Wislawa Szymborska"

• She seems like a wonderful poet and person and I'm excited to work on this week's translation exercise!
• The description of her poems as "unusual" and "humane" is lovely. 

Other random thoughts:

• As I was writing this post, a translation by Clare Cavanagh of Anna Kamienska's "Funny" popped up serendipitously to the top of my Instagram page. I enjoyed it a lot and am attaching it below. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• Over Spring Break, I went to an Argentine bookstore in D.C. called Flor and loved their stairs and their book collection! They had lots of Lorca and Borges. I bought a copy of "Elena Knows" by Claudia Pineiro, translated by Frances Riddle, that I am very excited to read. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

3/18 Readings - Kevin Hauger

The Art of Losing: Polish Poetry and Tranlsation

I loved reading this essay. It seems impossible for anyone to talk about translation without developing a metaphor, and Cavanagh's have been among my favorites that we've encountered, I think because of their embrace of effortful failure.

I worry I've come across as crotchety this semester when talking about literal translation. I think what moves me the most when someone talks about their translation work is a display of deep engagement and care, and some of the metaphors we've encountered feel to me like elaborate evasions of effort (though I'm probably being unjust). What I like about Cavanagh's essay is how it addresses directly both the inherent failures of translation and the importance of earnest engagement with language.

Wislawa Szymborska's Translators Talk About the Poet 

"It was poetry that was as if made to be translated." 

This is both a wonderful compliment of Szymborska's poetry and a complicated statement in the context of this class. I wonder what everyone thinks: what makes a person's poetry ideal for translation? Can the sense of a poem be as universally understandable as this implies?

Metaphors, women and translation

I enjoyed section 4 of this paper a lot. The survey of non-sexual metaphors that have gained popularity was cool, and the metaphors seem very productive as ways of approaching the work of translation.

Meredith Olsson - 3/18 Readings

    In the readings for this week discussing Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska, I was initially impressed with the idea of losing as integral to the translation process, which was proposed by Clare Cavanagh. Over the course of this class, I have come to believe that translated works are pieces of literature that deserve respect and recognition in their own right, and the idea that the loss of “fidelity” to an original work may come alongside a gain in meaning or formal interest is deeply appealing to me. That idea also resonates with some of the work we have been doing in class: many of my classmates (and I myself) have turned in multiple versions of a single translation, one which adhered to the literal definition of a piece, and one which explored the depths of meaning and the boundaries of form in a way that would not be considered altogether accurate in many cases. Translation is another form of engaging with literature, another way to express our interest and appreciation for a work of art.

    This is also why I so strongly objected to the classical gender metaphors referenced in Godayol’s article—the implication that translation is merely the result of manipulation or objectification of the “feminine” text as opposed to an equal work is absolutely incorrect. However, I do agree with Godayol that despite Derrida’s respectable claim that translation and original are hierarchically equal, there is still an inherent othering performed by the use of language such as “…the gifts of her seductive power, which rules over dogmatism, and disorients and routs those credulous men, the philosophers.” While Derrida is not directly dismissing or contemptuous towards women, he nonetheless creates an atmosphere of ‘us vs. them’, a two-sidedness that can only encourage distrust for both the subject (translation) and the metaphor (women). 

    Finally, I wanted to note how pleased I am to read such positive things about Szymborska from her longtime collaborators—I am sick of authors that I admire being terrible people. ;)

Ellie Wells Mar. 18th Post

 I thought "The Art of Losing" was a very interesting read, and made me think about the difference between translating poetry and translating prose. To me, translating prose is easier to follow the form and also the meaning of the work, because while some authors use wordplay, etc. often, the form is pretty standard, and it is easy to keep consistent. Poetry, however, is very different, and often it evokes different emotions within the translators in the first place. So, I think that it is very interesting to read varying translations, and vary translators' interpretations of the work, because for poetry, it is more about the effect the text has on the reader than the original intention, in my opinion. 

I also thought the article on Szymborska was interesting, and a bit sad that not even the Nobel prize could push her works to the forefront in some countries, but I think translating her work will be very intriguing, given what all the translators say about her work, how it is made to be translated and how smoothly it translates into other languages.

To be honest, I did not care for the work about the gender of translation, because I feel that the comparison of women to a translation and men to an original is not only confusing and without basis, but it is also misogynistic to assume that an original work is not female. I do not understand why this comparison is always made, and I do not like it. The work immediately lost me after that point. 

Leah Smolin - Readings for 3.18

The Art of Losing - Clare Cavanaugh

I really like Cavanaugh's thesis (and the Wordsworth quote) that translation is gain as much as it is loss. 

I’m a little confused how Bishop's villanelle acts as a connection point in this essay between the loss in translation to loss in life. “One Art” doesn't end with the idea that something is gained amidst all this loss. Arguably the world gained a poem, which is part of what Cavanaugh I think is saying.

The ending about her son is sweet (though again a strange metaphor). In trying to make a poem "ours" in translation we are almost forgetting the original, leaving the world where it exists behind, and then we run back into it. 

Wisława Szymborska’s Translators Talk About the Poet

Piotr Kamiński saying that the poem leaked 'through a tiny hole' is such a good and relatable way to describe the process. Funny that France 'doesn't care about poetry.' I guess most countries don't. I wonder which country cares the most? If Szymborska is more popular in Italy, does that extend to poetry in general?

Metaphors, women and translation - Pilar Godayol

This article analyzes and groups sexual metaphors for translation. Godayol is a sharp, clear, and to the point writer; I like her style. I still don't care much about gendered metaphors. I guess it's good that someone is fighting the good fight in this realm of theory? But ultimately how much time can we spend thinking about metaphors?

Carol Maier's "Buddhist between" as a state the translator must live in and accept that death is part of life is interesting. Maybe that's also what Cavanaugh was getting at with One Art and translation: loss is part of creation and death is part of life. 

Ok the Athena/Medusa comparison is interesting too. As I read this I wish I was translating and not spending any more time on theory. I think I’m just burnt out on this stuff. 

3/18 Reading Responses -- Lachlan Bowden

 Clare Cavanagh, "The Art of Losing"

Cavanagh’s essay was a great read, and one that I appreciated many of the points and how she ordered them. The recurring notion of loss, that it is intrinsic within the translation process, was fascinating. I find that reframing this sense of loss within the translation process, as Cavanagh says is something “intertwined” with its gains, fosters a sense of liberation and compassion to a practice that has the potential to be quite restrictive and demanding. When thinking about Baranczak’s translation of Bishop, it's clear that in order to maintain, or gain, a distinctive quality—something that makes the poem what it is—then something else must be spent, or lost, in order to achieve this. This was the case with losing the master/disaster rhyme, but maintaining the form.

I’m not entirely sure that I believe in Cavanagh’s statement that novels can “pretend comprehension”. While I understand the sentiment, it feels like a bit of a nothing point. I don’t know many good novels that claim to be entirely comprehensive — what does that even mean / look like? It feels slightly reductive. But I do appreciate the point of limitations, of things being slightly out of reach, and there within meaning can reside. 

I also really loved the ending analogy about her son. That was special and beautiful. 

Wislawa Szymborska's Translators Talk about the Poet

It was really interesting to read about how Szymborkska was received in France. I wasn’t entirely sure how to interpret this. The line in this piece I did really love, though, was the image of a translator plugging the holes that a poem can seep out of. Great stuff.

Pilar Godayol, "Metaphors, Women, and Translation"

This was a fascinating read. Godayol’s connection and commentary between the archaic imagery, the metaphors of the original text (the masculine) alongside that of the translation (the feminine) begets a lot of interesting discussion. It seems like a lot of what Derrida said was problematic.

There were a lot of great and compelling points raised in this essay. For example, it was interesting to see that in the 17th century d’Ablancourt was criticised for taking too many liberties with translations/ re-writes of classics. The reference to Bhadha and the statement that the original text does not exist independently of its different readings, that “the translation can never be definitive because a meaning will always lead to another”, was really impactful in emphasising the transitory and allusive nature of this process.

Thoughts on Class Materials 03/18 – Maria Antonia Blandon

Reading Cavanagh’s essay felt like approaching a new philosophy of translation; a different understanding of this art, where we can celebrate loss as an opening of the poetic form, in which creation is in the middle of it all. It felt liberating, after reading and hearing so much about fidelity and other recently outdated concepts in translation, to read her analysis of Polish poets and their translations, where we can find joy in failure and opportunity in absence. As with Jacques Derrida and recently Matthew Reynolds, this differential perspective to translation is a fresh breath of air in a field where the past haunts the present: we still focus on a strict criticism of the translation process when only compared to the original text or to other existing translations, instead of a search for variance between translation strategies and interpretations. 

Her final metaphor, deeply rooted in the maternal aspect of language which made me remember Godayol’s reading, portrayed exactly the kind of openness, compassion, and naivety that translation requires of us when approaching a text: a curios flexibility to trial and error, and an endless interest in an unfinished product. “And sometimes you even feel, for a while at least, for a day or two or even a couple of weeks, that you’ve got it, it’s worked, the poem’s yours. But then you turn back to the poem itself at some point, and you have to hit your head against the wall and laugh: it’s still there” (Cavanagh, 244).

Reading Response 3/18- Lauren M

Cavanagh’s essay on “The Art of Losing: Polish Poetry and Translation” was a wonderful read. I was moved by her care for her work and her conviction that perfection isn’t a reasonable expectation for translation, nor in life. I loved how she contextualized modern Polish poetry as “creation from loss” (238) and the attempt, as a result, to infuse Mandelstam’s “teleological warmth.” I went down quite the rabbit hole trying to chase the exact meaning of this phrase. I thought ending her essay with the metaphor of her son’s game was a particularly lovely choice. In the Culture article, I was struck by the metaphors used for translating Symborska (e.g., Kamiński’s “polishing diamonds,” and “it all went down the drain”). I loved running across Cavanagh again in this piece and her enthusiasm for Szymborska. I was interested in Cavanagh’s praise of Szymborska’s “greatness on the one hand, and modesty on the other.” This brought me to the Godayol piece and the critiques of gender metaphors in translation. I wonder a bit about Szymborska’s appeal needing to be tied in with her modesty—I found myself very attracted to this description of her as well, but maybe modesty is a necessary prerequisite to be an appealing female writer. I also wanted to quickly touch on my interest in the discussion of the borderland metaphors. I particularly enjoyed Maier’s interpretation of the Buddhist ‘between’ state of translation (107).

3/18 readings - Kelly Haddad

 Cavanagh -- I loved the reference to Bishop's poetry! I took an class on Bishop and Plath and spent considerable time with "One Art". Cavanagh connects this well to the impossibility of translating poetry, and how we can stand to be more forgiving in some respects. I agree that being literal does not always equal being faithful, especially since poetry often relies on melody and tone. This was reiterated in the article on Szymborska, when the initial "word for word" translation caused the poem to lose its integrity. In order to adequately convey that, certain syntactical liberties may benefit the translation. I though the ending of the paper was clever, and emphasized how we must be prepared as translators to encounter stubborn texts. It is essential to persist despite the imperfections in our translations, because it is more important that the work be shared across languages, rather than remain perfectly in its original state. Translating Szymborska changed both of the translators lives, and the impact that her poetry has had is because it, like many other significant works, creates unity throughout cultures. The article on gender provided a distinct categorization of how sexual metaphors are used in translation. Personally, likely due to limited experience, I hadn't thought of the relationship between original and translation (etc.) as something gendered. They seemed rather neutral to me, but I can understand the evolution of each viewpoint when contextualized. I enjoyed the references to Greek mythology in the end, but I wonder if in this "3rd age" either side can truly be non-sexual or genderless. It is the same idea that purposefully avoiding a concept can draw more attention to it, or that even within the categorizations of 2 women, one still takes on a more masculine role. The article to me was quite well researched, and well written. 

Reading Response 3/18- Claire Kapitan

 

In “The Art of Losing,” Clare Cavanagh explores what is lost and gained when translating poetry—how “form, substance, and joyful failure” are defining elements in lyric poetry and in poetic transition. I also liked how she explored ownership—how you can think of a poem as yours when you sit with it long enough, or feel a closeness to it, but then you “turn back to the poem itself at some point” and are hit with the reality that it still exists—this original that you’ve worked from or with. 

In the article where translators of Wisława Szymborska talk about her work and personhood, I liked how her work was described as “treacherously simple” and “modest.” Some translators, like Piotr Wojciechowski, found that this made Szymborska's work easier to translate—that it was almost as if it was written to be translated because of its ability to be grasped and understood. It is “full of wit and at the same time philosophical reflection.” Other translators like Piotr Kamiński found it deceivingly hard. When he copied a poem word for word, he discovered that the poem “leaked,” and went down the drain without him realizing until there was no poem. This was in direct conversation with Cavanagh’s chapter about loss in translation. 

In “Metaphors, Women, and Translation,” I was interested in how Godayol broke down the “ages” of metaphors within translation—how the “first age was that of the man, of Plato, of the truth, of the source text,” and the second age was “that of the woman, non-truth, distance and translation.” In the first age, the man (the active subject) manipulates while the woman (the passive subject) is manipulated. I liked how this was disrupted by the idea that women, writing, and translation are the border or point of difference—that they are open, unlimited, and foster non-truth. I also liked how Godayol wrote about originality and source material: “No text is original because it is in itself a translation of a translation of a translation…The translation can never be definitive because the meanings always suggest other meanings,” and “texts always suggest other texts. The relations of sexual and textual subordination have come to an end.” 

3/18 Readings – Cheryl

 The Art of Losing by Clare Cavanagh

I loved how her emotions really showed through in her essay, even as she then went on to elucidate her points in a very reasoned and level-headed way. I could feel her frustration at the various complaints that have been brought to translators, especially of poetry: not faithful enough, not literal enough, ruined the form, strayed from the meaning, tsk tsk tsk. If anything I feel a little guilty because I have been that person pointing the fingers and asking all of those questions, but of course, I also sympathise because I have struggled with those issues too. This line hit hardest, "But what are the other activities that we human beings perform so flawlessly against which the translation of poetry is being measured and found wanting?" I can't remember which class it was (was it this one) where we read an interview of David Mitchell who said, "As a writer I can be bad, but I can't be wrong. A translator can be good, but can never be right." This tickled me so much that now I have it written as a note on my desktop screen.

Wisława Szymborska’s Translators Talk About the Poet

It sounds like she was a lovely person :)

Metaphors, women and translation: From les belles infidèles to la frontera by Pilar Godayol

I find this whole "need for feminine models in the socially visible and operative translation discourses" thing a little overstated. How much presence do these gender/sexual metaphors actually have in translation practice today? Is this really how people ever conceptualised translation or is this just the way a few people liked to philosophise translation? I can stand behind not having words like "nurse" or "lawyer" be gendered but the idea of these metaphors being a real issue worthy of my time is not (yet) convincing to me. 

3/4 readings - Kelly Haddad

Nabokov was incredibly invested in how his works were translated, and it was clearly of great importance to him that style and tone were properly conveyed, in addition to the literal stories. I enjoyed reading his letters, especially given the mentions of Brookline and Wellesley! This was an interesting look into the duo's translation process. The collaboration article reinforced the role of a translator as not just invisible, as some previous readings have suggested. It is a valid discussion, despite making some rather obvious points like highlighting the correspondence between an author and translator. Comparing both Borges translations side by side was fun, especially since I know the original language. I read the Spanish version first, then moved on to comparing each attempt. The Hurley version was much easier to read; both seem to have similar pretentious undertones, but the Irby translation seems to have overdone it. 

03/04 Reading Responses - Kevin Hauger

 Nabokov: Letters to the American Translator

What a joy to read, especially Nabokov's report of The Atlantic's receipt of "Cloud, Castle, Lake": "'we are enchanted etc. this is genius, this is what we have been looking for etc. we want to print it at once,' and give us more."

This collaboration exemplifies, to me, the merit of a "literal translation," even if such a thing is only a concept and not an achievable end. Approaching the text with as impartial a hand as possible (as Profs. Maurer and Elliott have done with the assignment trots) seems like a productive first step, even if the final text majorly departs from that first pass.

Authority in Literary Translation: Collaborating with the Author

Is anyone else exhausted with Foucault and Barthes, or at least the irony of citing them as authorities when deconstructing authority?

I think it's not always accurate to say that subordination to an author's intent is "due to a common assumption that the author knows best, associated with a natural feeling of reverence toward the person of the author." To me, it seems less a matter of reverence than of accuracy; if a text is delimited at all ("you are reading x book by y author, translated by z"), that delimitation ought to signify something. If the point of translation were in fact to proliferate meanings without a real attempt at reflecting the original text's meaning, I think we'd be better off writing essays. 

And I see much more egoism in this Barthes quote: "to give a text an Author is to impose a limit on that, to furnish it with a final signifier, to close the writing," than in any authorial intervention. For whom does it close the writing? People without the capacity for critical thinking?

Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote

The two translations we read of this story both seemed to have the object in mind of translating a sort of pompous tone, so it was cool to see their different strategies in action. The more obvious discrepancies make me curious about what drove each translator's decision-making (e.g. italicizing the adjective versus the noun in the first sentence, or writing that Menard mastered 17th c. Spanish versus Castilian).

When “Dragonizing” Means Something Else - Val Galitskiy

When I think about how Nabokov worked with his translators, I imagine he treated them as sparring partners: first learning from them, then proving (perhaps to himself) that he could handle English better than they could.

In his insightful article, Maxim Shrayer, a well-known Nabokov scholar (I admire his effort), offers a fascinating glimpse into Nabokov’s collaboration with Peter Pertzoff. It appears that their collaboration lasted at least until 1944. Very little is known about Nabokov’s other translators from this period, but they might have existed, and it is clear that Nabokov was actively searching.

In July 1942, Nabokov wrote to James Laughlin (a poet and founder of New Directions):

“I need a man who knows English better than Russian…I would revise every sentence myself and keep in touch with him all the time, but I must have somebody to do the basic work and then to polish my corrections…”

Then, in August 1942, he added:

“Without a good deal of linguistic and poetical imagination it is useless tackling my stuff. I shall control the translation as to precise meaning and nuance, but my English is not up to my Russian, so that even had I the necessary time I would not be able to do the thing alone. I know it is difficult to find a man who has enough Russian to understand my writings and at the same time can turn his English inside out and slice, chop, twist, volley, smash, kill, drive, half-volley, lob and place perfectly every word…”

The very last sentence closely resembles the primary meaning of the Russian verb раздраконить (dragonize), which Maxim Shrayer discusses in detail (i.e to tear something apart). 

Yet this Russian word also carries a more obscure slang meaning and can refer to masturbation. It is impossible to say whether Nabokov was aware of this nuance or intended it here. Still, when an unsophisticated person looks at examples of how extensively he rewrote Pertzoff’s translations the metaphor becomes difficult to ignore.

I am not able to critically assess Nabokov’s own English version of the passage that Shrayer quotes in his article, but I can say a few words about the Russian original, which comes from one of my favorite Nabokov short stories. This is one of those small descriptive passages which, in my opinion, could be removed (or trimmed) without changing much in the story. Is it well written? To me—yes. Some editors might have different opinions about the choice of words and syntax. But it also looks like a passage that has been written and rewritten, turned inside out, worked over again and again until Nabokov finally achieved complete satisfaction.

But perhaps the more interesting question is not what Nabokov meant by “dragonizing.” The real question may be what the translator thought. How would Pertzoff describe Nabokov’s edits? How did Pertzoff feel when he received pages that were almost entirely rewritten? Perhaps I can add even more irony here by noting that the name “Pertzoff” originates from the Russian word перец (pepper), which in Russian slang can also mean… well, penis. Perhaps, if Pertzoff could sustain prolonged dragonization, the two of them might have made a remarkable pair. Yet, as the evidence suggests, this was not the case.

Leah Smolin - Readings for 3.4

V. Nabokov, M. Shrayer, "Letters to the American Translator"

Interesting that Nabokov wanted a 'literal' translation, like the playwrights from last week! These postcards are pretty dull, huh? His sign-offs (Yours very droozheski) are fun. 

I. Vanderschelden, “Authority in Literary Translation: Collaborating with the Author”

“It is significant that author and authority share the same etymology”– a Christopher Ricks-style observation.

“Evidence shows that it is not rare for authors and translators to be engaged in correspondence.” Wow, what a revelation. 

“no matter how much I love them, all translators must be closely watched.” This is funny. To me it comes across as grasping for impossible control. 

“every author of some value transgresses against "good style," …The translator's primary effort should be to understand that transgression” Yes!

Love that Borges called his poems "mere rough drafts" for the English versions.

Borges, "Pierre Menard," tr. Andrew Hurley

I love this story! It’s fascinating to compare the different versions.

The Andrew Hurley version reads better right away. I like his “few and Calvinist (if not Masonic and circumcised) though they be” to Irby’s “though these be few and Calvinist, if not Masonic and circumcised.” 

“Lugubrious” stands out as a strange choice for Irby to make for “infaustos” though I don’t know if I can explain why “dreary” is better. Lugubrious is so long, showy, and the sound is so different and loud. Lugubrious cypresses are hard to picture, whereas dreary cypresses—no problem.

Reading Response- 3/4- Claire Kapitan

     In Shrayer and Nabokov’s article, I liked how we could see the correspondence and relationship between author and translator. Nabokov and Pertzoff’s translation method was almost systematic: Pertzoff would produce a literal or precise draft, then Nabokov would heavily revise or “dragonize” it (symbolic of severe guardianship). The final version was shaped by Nabokov’s stylistic control, since he rewrote a large portion of the text and would “magically and laboriously transform Pertzoff's roughly cut diamonds into magnificent final versions.” I wonder about Pertzoff’s labor and voice—his independence that is sacrificed here. While I see many benefits for author/translator collaboration, I feel Nabokov would have been happy using AI if he just wanted someone, or something, to do the sloppy, heartless minimum.

In Vanderschelden’s essay, “Authority in Literary Translation: Collaborating with the Author,” I was struck by how thoroughly Vanderschelden explored power dynamics between author and translator, and the various degrees of author involvement. Some authors, like Marguerite Duras, have no involvement in the translations of their work and view them as new, independent works that belong to the target language. On the other end of the spectrum are authors like Milan Kundera who want strict control over translations of their work, revising or rejecting aspects they don’t like or deem unfaithful. They might assert authority over meaning or style. In the middle of the spectrum are authors who want occasional clarification or correspondence, or others who want to have close collaboration or proofreading. There are positives and negatives to each approach. Translation collaboration could encourage translators to hide behind authorial approval, or they could constitute a safety exit where some translators surrender part of their independence. I also liked how Vanderschelden explored the legitimization of translations in her conclusion: 

“What legitimizes a translation still tends to be determined by external factors such as the target language reception by readers or critics, or even commercial success and viability. Authors, who are rewriters in their own way, have no problems in legitimizing their work, but translators feel the constant necessity to defend and justify themselves, because they hold a different status, and because they are not judged according to the same criteria. They have a difficult role in attempting to be faithful to the source text and to the target language, as well as in gaining approval of author, critics and target-language readers.”

    In the two English translations of "Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote," that we looked at, I was struck by how both authors chose to translate a paragraph exploring historical truth near the end of the work. Hurley chose to emphasize that "historical truth for Menard is not 'what happened,' but what we believed happened" and that "history is the fount of reality," whereas Irby emphasized that "historical truth is not what happened; it is what we judge to have happened," and "history is the mother of truth." These small divergences show the labor of translation and the sensitivity, or subjectivity, of the process.