tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34767504.post1131131376303606418..comments2023-09-18T04:55:23.825-04:00Comments on Fides Quaerens Intellectum: Verbum de Verbo: On Translation and its Act of FaithNathaniel M. Campbellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01835009706332559978noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34767504.post-71289922313589845412014-06-08T12:36:35.055-04:002014-06-08T12:36:35.055-04:00To Albert:
(Thanks for catching the typo -- it se...To Albert:<br /><br />(Thanks for catching the typo -- it seems that no matter how many times I proofread something, one or two still creep through.)<br /><br />Thank you also for the rest of your comment -- the reason I am only now replying is that you posted just as my wife was going into labor with our first child (a boy). Thus, there is now even more poignancy for me in seeing translation as a maternal labor of love.Nathaniel M. Campbellhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01835009706332559978noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34767504.post-36314718289921856122014-05-26T18:08:06.674-04:002014-05-26T18:08:06.674-04:00"No, the translator approaches his work—or at..."No, the translator approaches his work—or at least, ought to approach his work—ought of a deeper love, a deeper commitment to the entire textual edifice."<br /><br /><br />Did you mean to say <i>out</i> of a deeper love?<br /><br />As someone who is only proficient in my mother tongue, I have a deep respect for anyone who manages to convert not just the meaning, but the tone, the mood, the rhythm, and nuances of one language into the prose and poetry of another.<br /><br />Yes, something is usually lost in translation, but, if done well, something of nearly equal value has been added.<br /><br />I can readily see why you refer to the act of translation, of capturing the essence of a work, as a labor of love. It has to be, to mirror the labor which created the original.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02138260302522477243noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34767504.post-86884926485660191902011-10-20T16:57:07.148-04:002011-10-20T16:57:07.148-04:00You certainly make a great case for a Romantic exp...You certainly make a great case for a Romantic experience of translation. Translating is interpretation and reading as well. My Dr. Vater always says that one must truly kneel down into the text in order to grasp the meaning, and at the end of the day, that kind of prostration is a wonderful thing. I felt that when I read the Confessions in Latin and was at a level where I saw how the word play in Latin adds shades of meaning to the words themselves (I'm thinking of all of the rhetorical figures that Augustine employed as a well-trained Latinist). After those moments, I remember thinking--it's almost not right to translate this work into English, because we cannot truly convey the fullness of meaning. Later, I recognized both the truth and the pomposity of that thought. We must translate, even though our interpretations (and the strictures of language) leave something to be desired. So I guess I'm providing the glass half-empty to your glass half-full here!<br /><br />In RE: Garnett vs. Pevear/ Volokhonsky, I would suggest that Anna Karenina be a good starting place. That is a beautiful novel, breathtaking in its depth. I think it's as close to perfect as I have ever read. They are careful and scholarly in their approach, and I think even Nabokov might approve. Or at least he might not wish them dead (which is as close as most people ever got to his approval). I'm enjoying your blog, btw.jas11https://www.blogger.com/profile/16781324188802585582noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34767504.post-78697806857743578492011-10-20T14:32:59.437-04:002011-10-20T14:32:59.437-04:00You are right that there is a difference between t...You are right that there is a difference between the utilitarian translation of day-to-day documents and the more devoted work of translating Homeric epic, medieval romance, or Dostoyevsky. At the same time, even the quotidian process of passing from language to language dips its toes, so to speak, into the ocean of transcendent meaning. The more multiple languages speak amongst themselves, the more the transcendent language, the Urwort, appears in their discourse. Or at least I'd like to think so.<br /><br />I had not read the New Yorker piece, but it might, perhaps, explain why I like The Idiot more than Crime and Punishment. I looked to the bookshelf and the version I read of The Idiot was Peaver/Volokhonsky while the C&P issue was the old Garnett. (It could also be that I read C&P as a junior in high school, while The Idiot was read with a Russian lit specialist as a sophomore in college.)Nathaniel M. Campbellhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01835009706332559978noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34767504.post-56113969827545446852011-10-20T13:12:59.163-04:002011-10-20T13:12:59.163-04:00Of course, you're talking about a specific typ...Of course, you're talking about a specific type of translation. As I translated a document the other day (German to English, a grant proposal) I did not have the love of the text you describe as necessary (perhaps I do love it, but only as the efficient cause of my increase in funds). <br /><br />Certainly, part of translation is interpretation, so if there is not enough love of the text, the translation can be terrible. I know this is beyond your pale perhaps, but have you ever read the article on the "new" translations of Russian classics (Tolstoy, Gogol, Dostoyevsky) by the husband and wife team, Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky? http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2005/11/07/051107fa_fact_remnick <br /><br />In any case, yours is a nice meditation on what translators do who work with ancient/medieval/early modern texts in particular.jas11https://www.blogger.com/profile/16781324188802585582noreply@blogger.com