Monday, June 2, 2014

Translation Question - Week 3- Literal Translation



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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