by Steve King On this day in 1923, James Joyce wrote to his patron, Harriet Weaver, that he had just begun "Work in Progress," the book which would become Finnegans Wake sixteen years later: "Yesterday I wrote two pages -- the first I have written since the final "Yes" of Ulysses. Having found a pen, with some difficulty I copied them out in a large handwriting on a double sheet of foolscap so that I could read them. . . ." Though increasingly plagued by eye problems -- ten operations, and counting -- Joyce's lifestyle had improved from the Ulysses years, thanks to Weaver's continued support, and money given by Sylvia Beach against future royalties. He and his wife, Nora, were able to get new clothes, a new flat, even new teeth: "The dentist is to make me a new set for nothing," wrote Joyce to Miss Weaver, "as with this one I can neither sing, laugh, shave nor (what is more important to my style of writing) yawn. . . ." Nora was not fond of her husband's style of writing, and not usually content with a yawn. When she discovered that he was "on another book again," just a year after the misery of Ulysses, she asked her husband if, instead of "that chop suey you're writing," he might not try "sensible books that people can understand." Although she did not tighten her purse, Weaver was also unimpressed by those sections of "Work in Progress" which Joyce sent her, and by his explanation that he was attempting to go beyond "wideawake language, cutanddry grammar, and goahead plot":
Dari http://www.todayinliterature.com/today.asp?Search_Date=03/11/2013
Tanggal 17 Maret 2013
|
dvnia joyce, where people ngobrol joyce...
Minggu, 17 Maret 2013
Finnegans Wake, Chop Suey
Selasa, 19 Februari 2013
Professor Jin Di in Ireland
Professor Jin Di, Chinese translator of Ulysses, and Annette Schiller,
SALIS and the Irish Translators' and Interpreters' Association
Last Thursday and Friday saw an important event in the calendars of
both Dublin City University and the Irish Translators' and Interpreters'
Association (ITIA): the visit of Prof. Jin Di to Ireland to receive
honorary membership of the ITIA and to give an open lecture at the
Second DCU International Postgraduate Translation Studies Conference.
Though famous for his work as both a teacher and translation
theorist, it is for his translation of James Joyce's Ulysses that
Professor Jin is most famous. A full account of his epic, 16-year task
of translating the masterpiece is available at http://www.ctts.dcu.ie/pg-ulysses.htm.
Now aged of 84, he remains sprightly and continues to work as a
translator. His latest project is the translation of his late friend
Richard Ellmann's biography of James Joyce.
The Thursday evening ceremony was held in the Irish Writers' Centre
on Parnell Square and was introduced by ITIA Chairperson and DCU
lecturer Annette Schiller, who welcomed Professor Jin to Dublin. This
was then followed by a brief account of Professor Jin's life and work
given by John Kearns, also of the ITIA and the Centre for Translation
and Textual Studies at DCU. Next, the Ambassador of the People's
Republic of China to Ireland, His Excellency Dr Sha Hailin spoke of the
importance of Jin Di's work to the improvement of Sino-Irish relations
and commended him for his translation, not just of Ulysses, but of many
other literary works and for his contribution to the theory of literary
translation in works such as Literary Translation: Quest for Artistic
Integrity (which was available on the evening courtesy of Jin Di's
publisher Ken Baker of St. Jerome Press, who had travelled from
Manchester for the occasion).
Finally Professor Jin was conferred with honorary membership and
presented with a certificate, the citation on which acknowledged his
"creative and scholarly achievements, especially his translation of
James Joyce's Ulysses into Chinese, adding a new universal dimension to a
work of Irish and European culture." He gratefully acknowledged the
honour and then gave a fascinating and highly entertaining lecture
entitled "Literature and Exoticism" featuring many examples quoted from
his own translation of Ulysses. The theme of the lecture centred on a
reassessment of the notion of `dynamic equivalence' associated with
Professor Jin's collaborator, the renowned translation theorist Eugene
Nida. The talk was warmly received.
The following day, Professor Jin addressed an audience of around a
hundred delegates and others at an open plenary lecture at DCU held as
part of the Second DCU International Postgraduate Translation Studies
Conference and organised by young researchers and postgraduate students
from the Centre for Translation and Textual Studies in the School of
Applied Language and Intercultural Studies. The title of this lecture
was "The Paradox of Creative Translation" and the subject was an
examination of a specific kind of creativity in literary translation,
the kind that produces a text which contains material apparently
different from those in the source text. In what proved to be a
fascinating talk, Professor Jin posed questions such as "Are all
`creative translations' justifiable?", "What exactly are the situations
that call for such `creative translations'?", and most specifically "How
can one create translations that are apparently different from the
original and yet manage to carry the sophisticated and sometimes
extremely elusive qualities of the original art over to the readers in
the new language as closely as possible?" The complications involved in
addressing these issues were illustrated with examples chosen from his
two recent books Shamrock and Chopsticks: Joyce in China, a Tale of Two
Encounters (Hong Kong: City University of Hong Kong Press, 2001) and the
aforementioned Literary Translation: Quest for Artistic Integrity
(Manchester: St. Jerome, 2003). Again the lecture was warmly received
and provided much material for discussion at the conference dinner in
the Helix afterwards, at which Professor Jin provided further
entertaining discussion of his work and ideas.
Both of the above events were organised and co-funded by the DCU
Postgraduate Society, the Centre for Translation and Textual Studies at
DCU, and by the Irish Translators' and Interpreters' Association.
John Kearns
Centre for Translation and Textual Studies, Dublin City University.
dari http://www.dcu.ie/news/2005/apr/s0405a.shtml //6 April 2005
Rabu, 06 Februari 2013
Finnegans Wake becomes a hit book in China
Following billboard ads, James Joyce's nigh-incomprehensible book leaps over language barrier to reach surprising readership
That is one thing they have in common.
After spending eight years translating the first third of James Joyce's
famously opaque novel Finnegans Wake into Chinese, Dai Congrong
assumed it was a labour of love rather than money. The book's language
is thick with multilingual puns and brazenly defies grammatical
conventions. It begins: "riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of
shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation
back to Howth Castle and Environs."
So the 41-year-old professor
at Shanghai's Fudan University was incredulous when the translation
became a surprise bestseller in China
after hitting shelves last month. Backed by an elaborate billboard ad
campaign, the first volume of "Fennigen de Shouling Ye" sold out its
first run of 8,000 copies and reached number two on a prestigious
bestseller list in Shanghai, second only to a biography of Deng
Xiaoping. Sales of 30,000 are considered "cause for celebration"
according to Chinese publisher Gray Tan, so 8,000 in a month has made
Joyce a distinctly hot property. Ian McEwan, for instance, is considered
pretty buzzy in translation, but the print run of Atonement was only
5,000 copies.
"At first I felt very surprised, and I feel very
surprised now still," says Dai. "I thought my readers would be scholars
and writers, and it wouldn't be so popular."
She traces her love
of Ulysses back to her time as a doctoral student at Nanjing University
in the late 90s – the novel was first translated into Chinese in 1995.
With some prodding from her academic adviser, she decided to tackle
Finnegans Wake in 2004 and signed a translation contract with a publishing agency two years later.
Joyce
is a recent arrival to China. His work was shunned as bourgeois western
literature under Mao Zedong – A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
wasn't translated into Chinese until 1975, a year before Mao's death.
And not for lack of demand. When a Chinese version of Ulysses hit
shelves just under 20 years later, it promptly sold 85,000 copies.
Dai
ventures that Chinese readers may appreciate Joyce's rumination on the
cyclical nature of history, the relationships between his male and
female characters, and the sheer challenge of interpreting his prose.
She describes translating Joyce's famous stream-of-consciousness writing
style as an enormous challenge.
The things I lost are mostly the sentences, because Joyce's sentences
are so different from common sentences," she says, adding that she
often broke them up into shorter, simpler phrases – otherwise, the
average reader "would think that I just mistranslated Joyce. So my
translation is more clear than the original book."
Yet she took
great pains to remain as faithful to the original as possible. "For
example, there was a phrase in Finnegans Wake that said 'sputtering
hand', which might mean shaky. If I translated it as 'shaky hand', that
would be OK – in Chinese it's a good sentence. However, I just
translated it as 'sputtering hand'. Sputtering and hand cannot be put
together in Chinese grammar, but I put the two together anyway."
Dai
was originally cowed by the scale of the undertaking – the French
translation took 30 years to complete – and occasionally considered
quitting. "It is a kind of torture," she said. "In China, translation is
not regarded as an academic achievement – I have to publish first, and
then give my own time to translation."
She often quarrelled with her husband (he wanted her to go to bed;
she wanted to stay awake and translate), and was driven to distraction
trying to balance the project with family. "My body suffered from the
work, working every night," she said. "I looked older than I should be.
My eyes became dark, and my skin wasn't that good either."
Her
contract covers the remaining two-thirds of the novel, and despite the
long hours, she has no qualms about continuing. "I think it's a very
great book – after I read Finnegans Wake… I'll think oh, this writer
used a sentence that's too traditional, too simple, and if he can
experiment more with his sentences then he might be able to express
different things."
"Finnegans Wake made me believe that Joyce is a
writer who is never satisfied with what he's already accomplished," she
continues. "His spirit is very strong."That is one thing they have in common.
dari http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2013/feb/05/finnegans-wake-china-james-joyce-hit
"Ulysses" in Chinese
pair of translators and their unusual
bestseller
by Cait Murphy
Much of the delay can be attributed to the antipathy of the Chinese Communists toward bourgeois liberal Western culture. Joyce's work became caught in the Chinese government's straitened view of literature's role--that it should extol the morally upright deeds of workers, peasants, and soldiers. Ulysses--bawdy, irreverent, and anti-heroic--hardly suits. Nor did the Maoist cultural commissars appreciate the literary merits of Ulysses, considering it too pessimistic, subjective, and personal. And perhaps worst of all, it was not concerned nearly enough with the great theme of class struggle. Even with the end, in 1976, of the Cultural Revolution, in which China tried to purge all foreign influences (except Marxism) from the land, Xiao and Wen were confined to translating only what was deemed to be safe material, such as the work of Henry Fielding, Charles Lamb, and Arthur Schlesinger Jr.
So when the two were just about ready to publish their translation, Xiao took the precaution of writing a series of articles for the Chinese press describing the American trial in 1933 that established that Ulysses was not a dirty book. China would look backward, he argued, if it were to ban or censor the book six decades later. Xiao also pointed out the book's "progressive" stance: it was anti-anti-Semitic and anti-imperialistic.
The strategy worked. Published last year, with no interference, the first edition of the three-volume translation sold out its 85,000 copies; a second and a third edition were rushed into print. "We publishers had to be brave to take this kind of risk," says Li Jingduan, the editor of Yilin Publishing House, in Nanjing. "I never imagined this book would be so welcomed by the Chinese reader." Considering the price--about $15, or roughly a week's wages for a high school teacher in China--the sales are phenomenal, and the couple have become modest celebrities. They keep clippings about their work in two thick albums in their book-cluttered four-room apartment near Tiananmen Square, and clearly enjoy the fuss. Wen positively purrs as she recalls a book-signing in Shanghai that attracted a thousand readers. "Five police officers had to come to keep order," she says. "Very excellent." The story made the front pages of Shanghai's newspapers.
Xiao and Wen both have traumatic personal memories of times when China was not nearly so accommodating, and see their translation as a major advance for China's cultural life. "I feel that this translation of Ulysses signifies that China at last has opened herself not only in technology and science but also in literature," Xiao says.
Translating Joyce is no party game in any language, of course. Even a simple sentence like "And going forth, he met Butterly" presents dangers. In fact in the book Buck Mulligan and Stephen Dedalus meet no one named Butterly. Mulligan, Stephen's roommate, is just tossing off a clever remark as he and Stephen leave their residence south of Dublin. He is referring, crudely, as is his wont, to the biblical description of Peter after his betrayal of Jesus: "and going forth, he wept bitterly." In English the allusion is obvious enough. In German, though, after much cogitation, the thought has been put this way: they went forth "und weinte Buttermilch"--or "and wept buttermilk." In Chinese it is translated for sound: they "went out and met Ba Teli," meaning "to hope earnestly-special-inside," but in context signaling a group of foreign sounds. Well, okay: the reader is clued in that the phrase is more than it seems. But a lot is lost in translation.
Another example: Stephen recalls that he has borrowed a pound from the poet and writer George Russell, who styles himself "A.E." Thinking of his debt, Stephen puns "A.E.I.O.U." In the German, Italian, Czech, and Latvian translations, the expression is simply left as it is, which must be rather baffling to readers. Most others include a native-language gloss. In the 1929 French translation the passage reads "A.E. Je vous dois. I.O.U." In Spanish it is "A.E. Te debo. I.O.U." In Hungarian the vowels are changed, killing the joke: "A.E.K.P." The same is true in Croatian, where an explanation is also added: "A.E.J.V.D (Ja vam dugujem)." "You can only do your best," says Fritz Senn, of the Zürich James Joyce Foundation. Senn is an authority on Joyce translation. "But of course, if a joke is explained, it is no longer funny." Right. Is there any way to translate Stephen's witticism about Shakespeare's wife: "If others have their will, Ann hath a way"?
Many languages at least share the Roman alphabet, and therefore, to varying degrees, a common corpus of sounds. The name Leopold Bloom looks and sounds much the same from Dublin to Detroit, from Harare to Hanoi.
Enter China and the rules change. To begin with, there are only 404 possible phonetic combinations in Mandarin, far fewer than in English. Wordplay is inevitably distorted. And Chinese is ideographic, not alphabetic; "home," for example, is represented by a stylized picture that has traditionally been interpreted to be a pig beneath a roof. Ulysses is not pictorial but aural, and comes alive most vividly when read aloud.
To make things more difficult, Chinese is a tonal language. In Mandarin, the official national tongue, there are four possible tones to each sound: high level, rising, falling rising, and falling. The tones make a difference. For a crude example of the sounds, consider using the word "Ma" in these different contexts: "Oh, Ma!" in surprised anger at seeing your mother where she shouldn't be, "Oh, Ma!" in exasperation, "Ma" in sober conversation, and "Oh, it's Maaa" in warning at an unexpected phone call from the matriarch. In Chinese, tones change the meaning of a word, not just the emphasis. The four tones for "ma" mean, respectively, "mother," "hemp," "horse," and "to curse." (A fifth tone for "ma," which is actually atonal, turns a sentence into a question.)
Proper names are not always translated syllable for syllable. If "America" were to be written sound for sound--that is, one Chinese character for each syllable--it could be construed as "inferior beautiful beneficial addition." That's not a bad metaphor for Chinese ambivalence toward our country, but the standard term for America is actually mei guo, which sounds like "America" said with a mouthful of marbles. At least the name translates well: "Beautiful Country." Sometimes names are assigned with reference not to sound at all but to the way China understands the world. This magazine, for example, named after a great body of water, is translated as "The Great Western Ocean Monthly."
And finally, normal Chinese discourse is sometimes best translated loosely. When Americans see each other on the street, they ask, "How are you?" But when two Chinese acquaintances meet, they greet each other this way: "Chi le ma?"--literally, "Have you eaten yet?" That does not call for a recitation of the day's diet any more than "How are you?" is an invitation to describe one's fitness program. Therefore, in translating Chinese into English, "Chi le ma?" becomes "How are you?"
So it's no wonder that Xiao was not altogether thrilled when a Chinese publisher suggested in 1990 that he undertake a translation of Ulysses. Pity the poor soul who has to deal with a fairly typical scrap of Ulysses like this one: Unsheathe your dagger definitions. Horseness is the whatness of allhorse. Streams of tendency and eons they worship. God: noise in the street: very peripatetic. Space: what you damn well have to see. Through spaces smaller than red globules of man's blood they creepy-crawl after Blake's buttocks into eternity of which this vegetable world is but a shadow. Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past. I asked Judy Arase, a translator, to find this passage in the Chinese translation and then, without reference to Ulysses, translate it from the Chinese back into English. Here's the result: How about laying bare your dagger-like definitions? That which is the nature of a horse is the essence of all horses. They revere the up-down flow and surging-beginning. God: cries in the street. Downright leisure school of thought. Space: the thing you are bound to see. They slowly crawl towards eternity, boring through spaces smaller than man's red blood cells, chasing after Blake's buttocks. This vegetable world is only but its shadow. Hold tightly to the here and now; all of the future shall surge into the past through it. The translation is inventive and carries something of the texture of Joyce's prose. Still, it's not quite the same: for one thing, it's far too intelligible.
Wen was undaunted by the complexities; indeed, she was positively eager to take a crack at Joyce. Then sixty-two, and recently retired from a career as a translator of Japanese and the editor of other people's English translations, she felt it was time to put her skills to the test. "In Chinese there is an expression, `Only the head, not the tail'"--meaning that a work has been started but not completed. "For forty years I only polished the translations of others. I never had a chance to translate a famous book, a classic. Why not Ulysses?" Eventually she persuaded her husband that they could crack it together. The project has been an act of teamwork from the beginning, with Wen doing the first draft, Xiao applying the polish, and the two of them arguing over the final version.
Beginning in October of 1990 they set the following schedule: Rise at 5:00 each morning (Wen often had to rouse her less committed husband), work until 8:00, and pause for breakfast. Then work until lunch, and again into the late afternoon. Wen worked nights and weekends as well, putting in, she figures, fifteen hours a day just about every day. She even gave up television and newspapers. For two years her sister took over the household, doing the shopping, cooking, and cleaning, so that the couple could work. The sister died in 1992; the translation is dedicated to her memory.
The couple leaned heavily on published sources to untangle Joycean knots; they cite Don Gifford's annotated Ulysses as a particular help. They consulted the Chinese Catholic Church, foreign-language specialists, geologists, doctors, and others for specialized knowledge. The Irish Embassy helped with specifically Irish references. What's "blarney"? Wen asked. The answer, as translated: "flattery as usual." And "on the shaughraun"? A drifting state of mind. The embassy also provided reference books, maps of Dublin, and a videotape of the movie version of Ulysses, which was invaluable because Wen and Xiao have never been to Ireland. A Canadian resident in Beijing helped research linguistic oddities like "smutty moll for a mattress jig" --Joycespeak for "prostitute."
Xiao and Wen were also able to refer to a work in progress by a man named Jin Di, a Chinese literary scholar now living in the United States, who began his own Chinese translation of Ulysses in 1978 but has not yet seen all of it into print. Bits of Jin's work had been published by the time Xiao and Wen began theirs, and they acknowledge that they saw these, though not the twelve chapters that had appeared in Taiwan by 1993. Jin is somewhat chagrined that he has been working longer and yet is finishing later. But there is room for more than one Chinese translation. The Japanese, after all, are on their fourth. Xiao and Wen do not claim that their work is flawless; they are, however, delighted to have published first. "A gold medal is better than the silver one," Wen says.
The work is not, in fact, flawless. A sharp-eyed Chinese reader has pointed out a few mistaken translations from the Latin. More important, sometimes things are just missed.
Molly and her lover, Blazes Boylan, eat Plumtree's Potted Meat during their assignation; the term is translated as "plum tree trademark canned meat." Good enough, but it misses the pun: "potted meat" was Dublin argot for sex. When Leopold recalls Molly's description of the plump Ben Dollard, that his fine singing voice was a "bass barreltone," the translation does not embody the play on words. His voice and shape, she is saying, are derived from barrels of Bass beer. Joyce experimented with different ways of expressing cat sounds: "mkgnao," "mrkgnao," "mrkrgnao," and, prosaically, "miaow." In Chinese, which does not have the array of sounds English has, the characters don't change.
Still, Xiao and Wen don't miss much. First, they adapted Chinese-language tools to the challenge. Most Chinese names have three syllables (Deng Xiaoping, Mao Zedong, Zhou Enlai); the Chinese transliterations of Leopold Bloom and Stephen Dedalus have seven each. Stephen's is rendered phonetically--"Si di fen . Di da le si." The unusual number of characters, the midline period between them, and the use of a few classical (rather than simplified) Chinese characters are all unmistakable signals to the Chinese reader to ignore the meaning and just note that it signifies a name. (A literal translation would be "This-base of a fruit-fragrant. Enlighten-extend-coerce-this.") The practice is similar to using "#%*&!" to indicate a curse in English; a reader doesn't delineate each symbol but just consumes the meaning. Bloom, wandering through a newspaper office, reads in type the name of the friend whose funeral he has just attended: mangiD kcirtaP (Patrick Dignam backward). In Chinese the eight characters used to render the name are likewise reversed. When the moral pub owner, Davy Byrne, "smiledyawnednodded all in one," the issue was trickier. Chinese characters are never smooshed together. Xiao and Wen used a quirk of Chinese grammar that implies simultaneously occurring actions.
They also adapted Chinese styles to Joycean ones. Molly, Leopold, and Stephen all have interior monologues, and all sound different. Molly is not very well educated. She occasionally misuses difficult words, and her thoughts, in the famous soliloquy that ends the book, have an earthy resonance. Stephen, the teacher and literary scholar, is philosophical. And Leopold is a middle-class bloke with a big heart who often thinks about sex and bowel movements. So in the Chinese, Molly is rendered in working-class Beijing slang, Stephen mostly in classical Chinese, and Leopold mostly in a mixture of modern and classical that dates from the early twentieth century. By varying the styles, the translation manages to convey the differences in character among the three.
When there is no linguistic or literary analogue, which is most of the time, footnotes do the job. So much of Ulysses is built around puns, allusions, and time- and place-specific Irish humor that it really cannot be translated; one must simply plough through. Wen and Xiao made the most readable Chinese translation they could and then explained the Joycean quirks in footnotes--5,991 of them, the most in any Chinese book ever published. Xiao thought that was several thousand too many, but Wen prevailed. The reviews in the Chinese press pay tribute to the couple's thoroughness, and however unwieldly the footnotes may be to read, they are the only way to clue Chinese readers in to Joyce's intentions.
Take the pun on Shakespeare's wife, Anne Hathaway (whose name Joyce misspells, incidentally). The translation reads "If other women are capable of following their hearts for that which they desire, Ann herself has her own ways." A footnote makes the point that the original is a pun on "Ann Hathaway." Sometimes--a lot of the time--the explanations are considerably more complex. T. Lenehan bumps into Bloom at a newspaper office and announces, "Madam, I'm Adam. And Able was I ere I saw Elba." In the Chinese text this is translated "Madam, I'm Adam. And before seeing Eve, I was Abel." The footnote fills in the considerable gaps: These two short sentences can be read the same from either end, joined together by "and." "Eva" [Eve] and "Elba" have similar pronunciations. The sound of Adam and Eve's second-born son, "Abel," is similar to "Able"; the quotation can be read as "Madam, I'm Adam. Before seeing Eve, I was Abel." Another reading comes from mixing together the several elements of Napoleon's saying that there is no "cannot" in his dictionary, his post-defeat banishment to the island of Elba, and his impotence; the first phrase can be reconstituted as "Mad am, I mad am," and the latter as "Before seeing Elba, I did not know the word `cannot.'" "Able" can be understood as "can be done" or "not impotent." Elementary, really.
Anthony Burgess, no mean Joyce scholar, has said, "Literature cannot be translated, only the appearance of literature, the arrangement on a page of words which do a minimal job, that of describing action, feelings, and dialogue of a fairly easily translatable kind." True enough, and yet . . . so what? By the Burgess standard, the English-speaking monoglot would be cut off from Tolstoy, García Márquez, and Lu Xun. And even if the poetry doesn't always rise, action, feelings, and dialogue count too. One of the joys of Ulysses is just getting lost in the pub talk and the commonplace to-ings and fro-ings of dear, dirty Dublin. The texture may not--cannot--be exactly the same in Chinese as in English, but it is possible to get a rude, true sense of it.
Joyce himself was a gifted linguist who spent his working life as an instructor of languages. He must have known that if Ulysses fulfilled its destiny, it would inevitably find a home beyond English--itself a foreign import to Ireland. In fact, the first translation of Ulysses, a German effort in 1927, came out before the book could be legally published in the United States or Britain. It is difficult to believe that Joyce, hardly parochial in his own work, would frown on the labors of Xiao and Wen. For if Ulysses is the end of literature, as Joyce believed, the remaining eternity must include China, the world's longest-lived civilization.
There are limits, though. No one in China is offering to translate Finnegans Wake.
dari http://www.theatlantic.com/past/docs/issues/95sep/ulyss.htm
Kamis, 31 Januari 2013
Life of Love, Letters and Joyce
The marriage of writer Xiao Qian and translator Wen
Jieruo was a union of exceptional closeness, love and collaboration,
with the literary couple taking on the torturous task of translating
James Joyce's "Ulysses" for the enlightenment (and bewilderment) of
millions of Chinese readers.
Wen Jieruo's name is on countless novels - yet the spry 75-year-old has never written one.
Wen is a noted translator who has brought the works of Kawabata
Yasunari, Mishima Yukio and other well-known Japanese writers to
millions of Chinese readers. Her latest offering, however, may be her
greatest: a revised translation of James Joyce's "Ulysses."
The Joyce translation began as a collaboration with her late husband
Xiao Qian, a renowned Chinese war correspondent, essayist, and
translator in his own right. Wen finished the translation alone, a labor
that might have humbled Hercules. The couple published their first translation of "Ulysses" in 1995.
Translating Joyce is no picnic in any language. Wen, however, was
undaunted by the difficulties - indeed, she was positively eager to take
a crack at Joyce. At the age of 62, and recently retired from a career
as a translator of Japanese novels and an editor of English
translations, she felt that this was a project that would put her skills
to the test.
"I jumped at the opportunity," says the multilingual Wen. "My husband
had researched Joyce's works at the University of Cambridge, and we
often discussed 'Ulysses.' So I had the confidence and faith that we
could do it."
Eventually she persuaded her husband that this was a project they should
tackle as a team. It was an act of teamwork from the beginning, with
Wen doing the first draft, Xiao editing, and both arguing over the final
version.
Beginning in October, 1990, they set the following schedule: Rise at 5
each morning, work until 8 a.m., and pause for breakfast. Then work
until lunch, and again into the late afternoon.
Wen worked nights and weekends as well, putting in, she figures, 15
hours a day just about every day. For two years her sister took over the
household, doing the shopping, cooking, and cleaning, so that the
couple could work. Her sister died in 1992, while the translation is
dedicated to her.
The revised translation of "Ulysses" also marked the 48th wedding anniversary of the literary couple.
Wen continues to use her husband's business card, and speaks of him as
if he were alive. "I use Xiao's card. If you get hold of one of us,
you'll find the other. We are 'two that have become one,'" says Wen.
Xiao died three years ago.
The Xiao-Wen marriage is something of a legend in Chinese literary
circles. When Wen first met Xiao and fell in love with him, he had
already been married three times. Wen, attracted to his gifts as a
writer and translator, threw caution to the wind, ignored her
disapproving relatives and friends, and married Xiao, who was almost 20
years her senior.
They survived the "cultural revolution" (1966-1976), a period that was
not kind to literary figures. Wen has traumatic memories of those times.
When Xiao was purged, she stood by him and saw him through.
While Xiao's a far bigger literary name, Wen holds her own. A Tsinghua
University English major, she has translated 14 novels, 18 novellas and
more than 100 short stories.
The novel "Ulysses" was inspired by Homer's "Odyssey." The famous Greek
saga tells the story of Odysseus, the king of Ithaca, who sails with his
army to sack the city of Troy. According to Wen, "Joyce chews up
Homer's 'Odyssey' and spits it out in his saga of a day in the life of
two Dubliners, Leopold Bloom (Ulysses) and Stephen Dedalus
(Telemachus)."
Joyce wrote "Ulysses" from 18 different points of view and in as many
styles, which would be enough to upset anyone's mental balance.
Considered a modern classic, "Ulysses" has been translated into more
than 20 languages, including Icelandic, Arabic, Malayalam, and,
fittingly, Gaelic. This, however, is the first time that "Ulysses" has
been translated into Chinese.
The difficulty in translating the novel comes from the fact that so much
of it is built around puns, allusions, and Irish humor. When there is
no linguistic or literary analogue, which is most of the time, footnotes
do the job.
Wen and Xiao made the most readable Chinese translation they could and
then explained the Joycean peculiarities in footnotes - 5,991 of them,
the most in any Chinese book ever published.
The couple resorted heavily to published sources to untangle Joycean
literary knots. They cite "Ulysses Annotated Notes for James Joyce" by
Don Gifford and Robert J. Seidman as a particular help. But they also
consulted the Chinese Catholic Church, foreign-language specialists,
geologists, doctors, and others for specialized knowledge. The Irish
Embassy helped with specifically Irish references, providing reference
books, maps of Dublin, and a videotape of the movie version of
"Ulysses," which was invaluable because Wen and Xiao have never been to
Ireland.
Critics have compared Wen and Xiao's "Ulysses" unfavorably with the
unfinished translation of Jin Di, a Chinese literary scholar now living
in the United States.
"Certainly it was daring of us to undertake a translation of a book that
has been so admired all these years. But what I've done is closer to
the author's intent," she argues confidently, "and that's what counts."
In her book-cluttered four-room apartment near Tian'anmen Square in
Beijing, Wen is ploughing on with her next project: translating the
works of Akutagawa Ryunosuke. Her favorite portraits of her late husband
hang on the walls. "Looking at his photographs make me feel as if I'm
not alone. He is still here with me, encouraging me to move on, to work
more," she says.
The project closest to heart, however, is the preparation of the "Xiao
Qian Collection," to be published in 2010 to mark the centennial of
Xiao's birth.
dari http://www.china.org.cn/english/NM-e/38565.htm
Kamis, 06 Desember 2012
11 Tahun Baca Finnegan Wake
http://www.videoportal.sf.tv/video?id=da3e3285-abcf-4f7b-90c0-5896db0bd331
Tebal novel 628 halaman, dipimpin oleh
Fritz Senn, ketua Yayasan James Joyce di Zürich, Switzerland.
Rabu, 05 Desember 2012
Nikmatnya Baca Ulang Karya-Karya James Joyce
oleh Jörg W. Rademacher
(Penulis
Biografi Joyce)
Pada saat reading group novel Ulysses
selesai, selasa 30 Oktober 2012 dilanjutkan dengan sebuah pembeberan dari
seorang penulis biografi James Joyce bernama Jörg W. Rademacher. Selebaran
kecil tentang acara tambahan ini sebagai berikut:
Jörg W. Rademacher
The Joys of Re-Reading James Joyce`s Works.
A Biographer Talks Back
Sejak Joyce dinobatkan menjadi seorang
penulis klasik modern, tak lama lagi menjadi ajang kritik sehari-hari.
Rademacher, seorang penulis biografi terbantu dengan karya-karya Joyce yang
belum atau sudah diterbitkan. Seperti harapan Joyce sendiri untuk menemukan
“Catatan Estetika.“ Dari pendekatan karya-karya Joyce itu ia menemukan
“kenikmatan membaca ulang karya-karya Joyce.“
Mahasiswa silakan datang!
Sekitar 20 orang hadir pada acara sederhana
ini. Mereka sebagian besar para penikmat karya Joyce yang sudah bertahun-tahun.
Aku perhatikan, hanya segelintir dari kawan-kawanku yang tadi ikut reading
bersama, menghadiri acara ini. Maklum memang waktunya mulai pukul 19.30,
sehingga orang yang rumahnya jauh pasti akan malas hadir.
Penulis biografi asal Jerman ini membuka
dengan janji, akan menyerahkan banyak foto dari tempat-tempat yang pernah ditempati
atau didatangi Joyce dari Irlandia, Trieste, Paris kepada Yayasan James Joyce
di Zürich.
Ia memperlihatkan foto-foto itu di layar
lebar sambil menjelaskan. Selain itu ia juga menunjukkan tulisan Aesthetic
Notes. Ia tegaskan, “Saya menulis tentang apa yang saya maui, pertama dengan
membicarakan novel setebal 400 halaman dalam bahasa Inggris. Antara Stephen
Hero dan The Young Artist punya perbedaan secara seni. Puisi-puisi
Joyce juga beda dengan kumpulan puisinya dengan judul Chamber Music.
Rademacher menunjukkan foto-foto hitam
putih kota Dublin. Terlihat ada menara setinggi 42 meter dan patung, setelah 2
tahun berikutnya, menara itu rubuh. Ada pula foto kota Dublin dari atas menara.
Dilanjutkan foto Martello Tower. Saat foto ini ditayangkan, Rademacher cerita,
pernah ada orang yang tanya kepada seorang pendeta Katolik di Dublin tentang
James Joyce. Pendeta itu jawab,“No, you may not talk about him.“
Menurutnya Joyce menulis Finnegans Wakes
dalam bentuk puisi dengan muatan parodi. Joyce menulis tentang Oscar Wilde dan
Pamela, karena mereka itu korban dari pemerintah Inggris.
Foto beralih ke rumah Nora Bernacle, istri
Joyce di kota Galway. Di rumah tersebut tidak ditemukan banyak surat Nora,
melainkan justru banyak surat dari ibunya Nora. Ciri suratnya tak memakai tanda
baca. Joyce sendiri lebih suka mengubah teknik menulis. Joyce memperkenalkan
surat yang berbasis dari Edgar Allan Poe.
Foto lain berupa tulisan di plang 1 Scala James Joyce, sebuah plang nama
rumah yang pernah ditempati Joyce sekeluarga di kota Trieste, Italia. (Catatan
penulis: Memang banyak tempat yang pernah dipakai, singgahi oleh sastrawan
besar di Eropa sering diberi tanda seperti itu). Menurut sang penulis biografi,
di Trieste Joyce banyak menulis fragmen dari berbagai topik, dari Hamlet,
surat-surat yang umurnya sudah 100 tahun lewat. Tiap hari Joyce membaca 4 koran
sekaligus. Pada tahun 1912, Joyce ujian di universitas untuk menjadi guru dan
berhasil lulus dengan memuaskan. Trieste merupakan kota yang telah melahirkan
dua karyanya Dubliners dan A Portrait.
Rumah Joyce saat di Roma, juga
diperlihatkan, foto masih hitam putih. Bahkan sebuah kafe bernama Antico Caffe
Greco, disebutkan sebagai tempat nongkrong Joyce di Roma. Sampai di sini Fritz
Senn, guru kami bertanya, “Bagaimana kamu tahu, kalau Joyce pernah ke situ?“
Rademacher jawab, “Setiap penulis biografi Joyce sebut bahwa Joyce pernah ke
kafe itu.“
Beralih ke foto Hotel Dela Paix di Paris,
ada plang Joyce pernah menginap di hotel itu dan dijelaskan Joyce saat tinggal
di situ pernah menulis surat agar bisa masuk ke Zürich, Swiss. Peristiwa itu
tahun 1940. Kawan Joyce pernah bertemu Joyce di hotel itu.
Kini foto sebuah nisan di kuburan Zürich.
Bagi kawan-kawan di Zürich tentu tidak asing lagi dengan nisan Joyce yang
disertai patung Joyce di sebelahnya. Di makam itu lah Ezra Pound pernah
menjenguknya.
Ada foto patung hitam, dijelaskan Joyce
dalam menulis menggunakan 4 bahasa, Italia, Jerman, Prancis dan Inggris. Awalnya
Joyce sebagai penganut Katolik namun berubah menjadi Kristen protestan. Foto
lain tentang Joyce di kampus di Dublin. Rademacher bilang, “Saya suka sekali
karya Joyce, karena berbeda dengan pengarang lainnya, namun saya lebih suka
menemukan sendiri yang bersifat kontemporer. Yang ditulis Joyce bukan semuanya
asli.“
Fritz Senn tanya, “Banyak sekali
foto-fotonya tentang Joyce, tapi lebih indah foto-foto yang lain?“ Rademacher
jawab, “Saya lebih senang membuat jarak dengan Joyce, sehingga bisa
menghasilkan karya sendiri, daripada sekadar menerjemahkan.“
Menurut penulis biografi ini, Joyce juga
dimanja oleh Richard Ellmann, dianggapnya sebagai anaknya. Joyce menciptakan
karya di Dublin, kebanyakan dari John Counter. Kebiasaan Joyce minum terlampau
banyak, hingga membuat istrinya khawatir.
Seorang ibu bertanya, “Banyak orang, banyak
anekdot tentang Dublin?“ Rademacher jawab, “Joyce itu sulit.“
Pantauanku, jalannya acara ini tampak kaku
dan sebagai penulis biografi Joyce, Rademacher saat menjelaskan analisisnya
begitu kering bahkan kesanku, pesimis terhadap karya-karya Joyce. Tak lama
lagi, Fritz Senn melempar pertanyaan kritis, yang kuduga bisa mewakili semua
orang di situ, “Apakah tujuan khususmu atau apakah yang bisa membuat berbeda
dari studymu?“ Ia jawab, “Lebih banyak terkait dengan ayah Joyce. Sebuah
kolaborasi dengan sang ayah. Joyce membuatnya dalam format fiksi. Analisis saya
tentang Joyce terkait bagaimana cara Joyce menulis, pada beberapa bidang,
prosesnya. Saya pikir, sebuah gagasan bagus membedakan secara etnografi,
berdasar manusia, surat-suratnya banyak yang bersifat pribadi. Joyce menghadapi
perempuan dan yang lain dengan cara yang sangat berbeda.
Morris Craig, disebut sebagai arsitek di
Dublin, selama dua tahun, ia akui pernah bertemu Joyce ketika masih muda. Joyce
juga menulis puisi tentang Belfast. Ketika Joyce pergi ke Paris, ia masih ingat
puisinya tentang Belfast itu.
Kesimpulan akhir, Rademacher sebut, “Saya
mencoba melihat Joyce dari sudut pandang Joyce yang hidup 2/3 masa hidupnya di
daratan benua Eropa. Anda bisa cari pengarang di museum Lubeck, Jerman, tapi
bukan untuk Joyce, yang lebih suka fiksi ketimbang skandal baru.
*Jörg W. Rademacher adalah penulis biografi
berjudul James Joyce.
*(Sigit
Susanto: November 2012)
Langganan:
Postingan (Atom)