Consider the comment: “The clumsiest literal translation is
a thousand times more useful than the prettiest paraphrase” (113), particularly
in light of Schleiermacher, Borges, Jakobson, and Eco. What particular baggage
does Nabokov bring to bear on this argument? What does he mean, for example, by
a literal translation’s supposed “use” value? What, in other words, lurks
behind that comment? What does it tell us about Nabokov’s theories of
translation?
Nabokov’s theories of translation are in direct opposition
to those espoused by pretty much everyone else we’ve read. It’s clear that
Nabokov is not concerned with the entertainment/pleasure derived from reading a
translated text, but only its educational value. He wants to “move the reader
toward [the writer]” (Schleiermacher 49). He completely eschews the form and “sense”
of a text, not wanting to recreate an experience for the reader, but simply the
words on the page. As he says, “the original text will not be able to soar and
sing; but it can be very nicely dissected and mounted, and scientifically
studied in all its organic details” (119). Ugh. This is not how I want to see
my literature, at least not all of the time. In fact, Nabokov believes that the
translator shouldn’t worry about the “spirit” of a text at all, saying “’if the
letter has killed the spirit,’ there must have been something wrong either with
the original letter or the original spirit” (123). This is a stark contrast to what
Eco proposed in “Sameness in Reference” and “Stylistic Values and Expressive
Substance.” Even Borges, who had criticisms of each of the translators he
mentioned, championed the respective value of each version. He seems to believe
that the most important thing about translating The Thousand And One Nights was not making a perfect literal
translation, but emphasizing “the atmosphere of magic” (95). Nabokov would
likely respond by saying that the translation should be absolutely literal, and
the magic will either come through or it won’t. It isn’t his concern.
It seems that Nabokov’s intention is for literature and translation
to be activities of the elite, only enjoyed by academics interested in learning
all there is to know about the source culture. Perhaps this is not surprising
considering that he was born into an elite family, spoke three languages from
childhood, and had the luxury of a stellar education. I also couldn’t help but
wonder if his attitude had anything to do with the political climate of the day
and the personal toll that changing political climes had taken on his life.
This article/book was written in 1955. The Russia of Nabokov’s childhood was gone. He
had been forced out of his country (1917); his father was killed as part of an
attempted political assassination (1922). Russia’s male population had been
decimated by the fighting in World War II. Russia was now communist and part of
the Soviet Union, and it was the height of the Cold War. I say all of that to
say, it seems that Nabokov might be speaking from a place where he feels like
the history, culture, and literature of Russia is at risk and must be preserved
at all costs. If so, then that raises the stakes for literal translation. The
act of educating people of other cultures about your culture through its literature
(via “translations with copious footnotes”) becomes a way to ensure its
preservation. Just a thought.
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