Arabic Poet Idol

The number one primetime show in the Arab world -- an audience of 70 million -- features poets.

An initiative of Abu Dhabi's Authority for Culture and Heritage intended to increase interest among the region's youth in their cultural roots, "Million's Poet" is an Arabic-language, American Idol-style competition. Over the course of the 15 week competition, an initial batch of 48 bards is voted down to a final winner who will be crowned as ‘Million's Poet' and awarded 1 million AED.

Are the poems being translated for performance or publication in Europe, the States?

More about the show, and the progress of the contestants can be found at CNN, ArabianBusiness.com, and Zawya.

Quizzes

Do you know what a "wo-mba" is? Try the How wide ranging is your vocabularly" quiz at the Guardian to test your multi-lingual mettle.

You can also test your knowledge of Italian literature.

The Times Stephen Spender Prize for poetry translation

Today in The Times Online, Jenny Harris, whose translation of Horace won the Stephen Spender Prize in the 18-and-under category, writes about her experience. Her prose shows a mature grasp of the difficulties of translation:

"All translators try to get as close as possible to the experience of reading the original. At one extreme, this involves finding words that mimic the sound of the foreign poem, often with surreal effects, or giving the original words in the original order with scant regard for English syntax. At the other, it produces a poem that feels like it was written in the English tradition, using English verse forms and idioms that the translator feels are equivalent to those the foreign poet used."


Information on How to enter the 2008 Stephen Spender Prize for poetry translation:

Entrants must submit a translation of a poem from any language, modern or Classical, into English, with a commentary of no more than 300 words covering the reason for choosing the poem and the difficulties that they encountered.

There will be three prizes in the Open and 18-and-under categories and one in the 14-and-under category, ranging from £50 to £500. All winning entries will be published in a booklet and selected poems will be printed in The Times.

A charge of £3 will be made for each entry (entrants aged 18 or under are exempted), to arrive no later than May 23, 2008. Results will be published by October 25. Further details and an entry form can be found at the Stephen Spender memorial trust website, or can be obtained from 3, Old Wish Road, Eastbourne, East Sussex BN21 4JX.

Aesop's fables

Willis G. Regier at The Chronicle Review writes about the trials and tribulations of finding the best translation of Aesop's fables. No straight-forward task, apparently.

Regier writes that "[n]ine translators dominated Aesop in English over the past 500 years, and new ones are vying for attention. What do the translations show? Most obviously, some Aesops have more Aesop, much more, than others. Some have been much more reprinted, and more popular. And some change the fables: In some editions a lion outwits three bulls, in others four. Animals are altered: A weasel in one translation is a cat in another, toads become frogs, crows become ravens, a bear becomes a tiger, a lion becomes a leopard, and so on."

He goes through the different translations and their various political/social/religious slants and mentions which new translations are available. His vote, however, goes to Laura Gibbs's 2002 translation.

Unprintable Ozark Folklore, René Depestre the erotic voodoo novelist, and the Candlewick Monk

Robert Irwin at TLS reviews the new Encyclopedia of Erotic Literature, with entries spanning the literatures of the globe. Apparently the volume is not as titillating as it sounds. Still Irwin is baffled by (and slightly incredulous of) some of the entries:

"The Encyclopedia of Erotic Literature takes one into some relatively unfamiliar sexual territories – Japanese, Chinese, Arab, Zulu, Thai and Catalan. Some of the biographical entries are so strange that I wondered if some of these writers had not been made up. (It is common practice in reference books to insert a bogus entry or two in order to establish copyright in any future plagiarism case in court.) Was Pierre Albert-Birot a real person? Did he really write Les Six Livres de Grabinlour (1991)? In its first book, Grabinlour is “an indulgent observer of the sexual activities, from passing moments including a queen and a cowherd, a marchioness and ‘a luxury hotel negro’ to a king and shepherdess . . . . In the second book, Grabinlour is a courteous host when the Angel Gabriel spends twelve hours in Paris, largely comprised of eating, drinking and sex”. And so on.

Gershon Legman, the scholar tramp and author of Unprintable Ozark Folklore, sounds pretty fishy, too: “Over his long career he championed origami, attacked the initiation rites of the medieval order of the Knights Templar, critiqued the typography of the fifteenth-century printer William Caxton, translated Ubu Roi by Alfred Jarry, and compiled a bibliography on the economist David Ricardo, but he devoted himself chiefly to the study of sexual humor and folklore”. Then there are René Depestre, the erotic voodoo novelist, and Felipe Guaman Pomo de Ayala, the Incan essayist. The Chinese Dengcao Heshang Zhuan (“The Candlewick Monk”), a long novel about a little fellow who leaps out of candles and expands to fill the desires of the women he falls on, has one of the strangest plots I have ever come across."

upcoming events in France and Britain

If you are in Paris tomorrow, you can stop by the American University of Paris to hear Professor Alan Jenkins read his own poems and his translations of Rimbaud from his cahier Drunken Boats. Jenkins is a poet and was a long-time editor of the Times Literary Supplement.

And if you are in Britain later this month, you can stop attend a postgraduate symposium on translation theory and practice at the University of East Anglia.

graphic novels in translation

A light piece in The Times Literary Supplement on the pitfalls of Translation: David Baddiel expresses his disappointment in (and suspicions about) translations of Musil and Flaubert, amongst others. He raises the valid--if obvious--point that novels are not only about ideas and narrative, but language itself, "the resonance of the words, the rhythm and flow of sentence structure, wordplay." A good translator, however, should treat the difficulties of translation as an exquisite puzzle and determine how to pick and choose resonant words and a rhythm that captures the spirit of the original, even if this entails a slight loss of factual accuracy. (Ezra Pound's versions and Robert Lowell's imitations do this successfully, I think.)

This month, Words Without Borders has a feature on graphic novels in translation. The Duck is charming, if bizarre, and A Happy Childhood and Life of Pahé are somewhat interesting as accounts of childhood in Beirut and Gabon, respectively.

Ktonk! Adgno!

The New York Times Review of Books has had its first incarnation in another language! Any guesses which one? Romanian. No matter that its spoken by only about 25 million people. Don't be fooled by the scanty numbers or stereotypes of Eastern European exoticism. Critic A.O. Scott writes: "Romania is one of those countries where it seems that every literate person has written a novel, a book of essays, or at least a play." The NYT's Paper Cuts blog has more.

Also, Dan at The Wooden Spoon found a nice little piece on contemporary Russian poetry by Stephen Burt at The Poetry Foundation. Burt starts the piece by professing bemusement:

"The classroom next to my office has been booming all morning in Russian, a language I don't speak at all: I recognize it when the students respond to the teacher, in unison, by shouting "Spasibo!" though the other frequent shoutouts wouldn't be phonologically possible in any of the (too few) languages I read: one of them sounds like "Ktonk!" and the other like "Adgno!""

Bolaño, Berlin, and Bits from Herodotus

Following up on the last Bolaño post, another excerpt from Nazi Literature in the Americas appears in this month's Bookforum. This time, we get a portrait of the Schiaffino brothers--aficionados of literature and Argentinian football. The characters in Bolaño's faux reference book come off as credible, if just barely: Argentino Schiaffino is a criminal mastermind who, between stints running from the law, shows up at various World Cup games. Bookforum also has a little piece on the Spanish translator Edith Grossman.

Ian Buruma at the New York Review of Books talks about Alfred Döblin's 1929 novel Berlin Alexanderplatz and Fassbinder's fifteen hour long movie based on the book. Buruma is suitably impressed with the film, but thinks that the book still needs an inventive, new translation in English. Nice in theory, but the (almost) insurmountable problem is that the book, written in heavy, Berlin workers' slang, is "pretty much untranslatable," according to Buruma.

Over at More Intelligent Life I came across a series of articles on reading Herodotus. In the first, A.P. David introduces Herodotus--the "only travel writer in print for 2,500 years"--in its English translation by the late big-name classicist David Grene. The second talks about women in Herodotus and observes that they "all too often as a sideshow to the perceived motives of powerful men," in reductionist readings, at least.

Blips on Beckett and on Turkish poetry

The February issue of Poetry features translations of a few of Samuel Beckett's French poems by Philip Nokolayev, editor of Fulcrum. Shockingly, Beckett's poetry has been largely disregarded by critics, who have traditionally seen it as less interesting and competent than his dramatic works. In fact, this is the first time any of it has appeared in Poetry. Nikolayev is currently translating all of Beckett's French poems for a new critical edition he is putting together. Fulcrum 6 will also feature essays on, and translations of, Beckett's poetry.

The current issue of Jacket Magazine features a selection of poems in translation from Eda: An Anthology of Contemporary Turkish Poetry, as well as essays related to the poetry in the collection by Murat Nemet-Nejat (who is also editor of the collection.)

Also, check out Mary Jane White's translation of Eugenio Montale's "Cafe at Rapallo" online at Agni. The language is surprising and, somehow, endearing: the "raconteur of cupidity and sweet delay," for instance, the "tepidarium," and the "gnomish world."

Dutch Poetry Day & Second Life

For people whose "first life" isn't enough, Poetry International Web is "launching a Second Life pilot project to coincide with Poetry Day in the Netherlands and Flanders. Two short films of the poets Mark Boog and Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer reading original work in Second Life will be premiered at the Red Sky Club, Cookie Island in Second Life on 30th January. The films will also be shown in Rotterdam during the Gedichtendag opening.
If you are not already a Second life regular, in order to attend the screening you will need to sign up to www.secondlife.com, download the application and create yourself an avatar."

Those of you in the Netherlands should definitely try to get over to Rotterdam for Gedichtendag--"Poetry Day." Readings and talks will be held on January 30th from 8 to 12pm at Arminius, Museumpark 3, Rotterdam.

For the occasion of Poetry Day, a new collection of ten poems by Mark Boog, Alle dagen zijn van liefde (All days are of love) will be made available, along with an essay on reading poetry by the Flemish poet Paul Bogaert.

In even more Dutch literary news, UNESCO has named Amsterdam the World Book Capital City 2008. Hooray! Get over there and get some books!

Bolaño's Nazis

Words Without Borders provides an excerpt from Roberto Bolaño's new novel Nazi Literature in the Americas, forthcoming in February from New Directions. Bolaño's concept is intriguing; the novel is a collection of biographies of fictional writers who, in some way or another, sympathized with Nazism. Max Mirebalais--the fictional writer presented at WWB--is just one of the shadowy men from the collection.

Natasha Wimmer's English translation of Bolaño's The Savage Detectives was one of the most praised translations to have come out last year, and you can bet there is plenty of anticipation for Nazi Literature in the Americas.

Quibbles in translation

Today I came across an interesting little piece by Peter Dale Scott in the Words Without Borders forum. Scott, who, along with Czesław Miłosz, translated Zbigniew Herbert's "Pebble". Scott discusses the elegant simplicity of the poem--its suitability for translation--but also how two translators--both good poets in their own right--can vehemently disagree on an aspect of a given translation. Scott writes:

"Straightforward though the poem may be, it was one of the very few Herbert poems which, precisely because of its tight austerity, gave rise to two irresoluble disagreements between Miłosz and myself as to how to translate it. I failed forty years ago to persuade Miłosz to accept these two changes. At the time I was filled with awe and gratitude for the exciting and educational experience of translating with him, so I deferred. Nevertheless my two suggested alternatives have since continued to haunt me. How important these nuanced differences are, the reader can judge."

Scott provides both his version and that of Miłosz with accompanying explanations of what choices each translator made and why. Still, Scott does not capitulate to the great Polish writer, declaring: "To this day my admiration of Miłosz is one which still generates in me the desire to dispute with him. As to which is the better version of “Pebble,” I will let the reader decide." So, reader, decide. I encourage you to leave a comment stating which version you prefer and why.

In other translation news, The Center for the Art of Translation announces its Spring 2008 reading series. The Center has reeled in some big names, including Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thiong'o and poet W.S. Merwin.

Anna Amalia: risen from the ashes

"First time round, the books escaped: the Duchess had moved them out to her new library in the Green Palace eight years before the great fire of 1774..."

Northern California Translation Award

The Center for the Art of Translation, a non-profit organization that promotes international literature and translation through programs in the arts, education, and community outreach, is co-sponsoring the Northern California Book Award in Translation for the best translation by a Northern California translator. The Center staff are gathering books that may be qualified for the translation award and ask for your assistance in identifying book-length translations from any language into English (primarily fiction and poetry, though some non-fiction will be considered) published by Northern California translators in 2007. For the purposes of this award, Northern California is defined as Fresno north to the Oregon border; the publisher does not have to be from Northern California, but the translator must currently reside there. The translation award is co-sponsored by the Northern California Book Reviewers (formerly Bay Area Book Reviewers Association/BABRA) and PEN West Translation Committee. Sponsors of the Northern California Book Awards (with categories in fiction, non-fiction, poetry, children's literature, and translation) include the Northern California Book Reviewers, the Northern California Independent Booksellers Association, Poetry Flash, and the San Francisco Public Library. This year's NCBA ceremony will be held at the San Francisco Main Library in April 2008.

DEADLINE FOR SUGGESTIONS: NOVEMBER 21, 2007. Even if the book is due out in December 2007, they still need the information in advance of the deadline. For all suggestions, please include the author's name, the translator's name, the publisher, and the title of the book, and send the information to Olivia Sears at osears@catranslation.org.

Literary Arts Festival

The Translation Project is organizing an Iranian Literary Arts Festival from November 13-17 at Theater Artaud, 450 Florida Street in San Francisco. In partnership with Beyond Persia, the festival program features an art exhibit, panels, a gala celebration and the world premier of ICARUS/RISE, a theatrical piece based on new Iranian poetry and voted by 7 X 7 Magazine as the HOT PICK for November. ICARUS/RISE was created by Niloufar Talebi, with original score by Bobak Salehi and choreography and video by former SF and LINES Ballet dancer, Alex Ketley. ICARUS/RISE shows on November 15, 16, and 17. The November 17th show is followed by a gala celebration benefiting The Translation Project.

The woefully inadequate English language

"English is such a limited language. Why does it not have a word for the rushing sound a grandfather clock makes before striking the hour or the act of sticking a finger up a chicken’s bottom to see if it is about to lay an egg? Others do," writes Alan Hamilton in his discussion of Adam Jacot de Boinod's "second compendium of unlikely but useful words that other languages enjoy but English does not. "

Boinod's "original compilation included such obscurities as the Japanese baku-shan (a woman who looks better from behind) and nakhur, from the Farsi, meaning a camel that won’t give milk until its nostrils are tickled."

Hamilton admits, however, that English speakers will probably have little opportunity "for an equivalent of the Finnish poronkusema, being the distance a reindeer can travel without taking a comfort break. Nor would a snappy translation of embasan, from the Maguindanaon language of the Philippines and meaning to wear clothes while taking a bath, be daily on the lips of the chattering classes."

The right side of the tapestry

Recently Carol Rumens addressed the pleasures and frustrations of translation on the UK Guardian's book blog, partly in response to an earlier review of a translation of Paul Celan's poetry. An excerpt from the blog post:

So why translate? My first answer is that poetry in translation simply adds to the sum total of human pleasure obtainable through a single language. It opens up new language worlds within our own tongues, as every good poem does. It revitalises our daily, cliche-haunted vocabulary. It disturbs our assumptions, jolts us with rhythms flatter or stronger than we're used to. It extends us in the way real travelling does, giving us new sounds, sights and smells. Every unique poetry village sharpens us to life.

Some people would disagree, saying poetry in translation is the wrong side of the tapestry - it just can't be done. But they are talking about replication, not translation. It is perfectly true that you will never get a replica of the original - nor would you wish to. The way it works, when translator and original are in tune, is that a third poem is created. It is the child of two parents and simply couldn't exist without them.

How poor modern Anglophone poetry would be without Edwin Morgan's Mayakovsky, Anne Carson's Sappho or Mark Musa's Dante; without George Szirtes's Hungarian poets or Ian and Jarmila Milner's Czechs. What a loss to the itinerary if we didn't have the journal Modern Poetry in Translation to transport our imaginations across the globe in 80 seconds."

The irresistability of translation

Quotation from taken from Jean R. Longland's "World World Vast World of Poetic Translation", Latin American Research Review, 1977:

Literary translation is an addiction. A happy few are able to surrender their lives to it. We others sacrifice our precious free time and our social lives to this irrestistible addiction.

Shattuck on French translation, from 1959

In 1959, the Center for Translation at the University of Texas convened a symposium on translation. At the conference, the organizers invited prominent authorities in the field to look ahead and lay out an agenda for translators and publishers working in the language of their expertise. Their comments were published with the proceedings of the conference in 1961 as The Craft & Context of Translation, by the University of Texas Press. Here, Roger Shattuck on French:

French literature has been and continues to be better served than any other in English translation. For over three centuries, publishers’ hacks and the idle rich of letters, as well as a few dedicated craftsmen, have cast or coaxed into somebody’s English almost all major works in French. They have also translated enough tripe to add considerably to our nightmare vision of the future as archive. In 1960, however, this accumulated mass of translation means less to all three literatures (since ‘English’ must stand for two) than the fact that within the past fifteen years the Song of Roland and the prose masterpieces of Rabelais, Montaigne, Pas cal, Diderot, and Flaubert have appeared in fresh and generally felicitous versions. This running revival of the classics will have a more lasting effect than any publishers’ race for the latest nouveau roman or the literary reviews’ endless sightings and soundings in order to locate a new Paris avant-garde. The only great prose author that needs refurbishing in English, like that lately given de Tocqueville, is Montesquieu. The sociology of government knows few more pithy texts than L’Esprit des lois, and Nugent’s standard translation needs replacement (as Franz Neumann points out in his preface to the 1949 edition). Les Lettres persanes might well be brought back again within our horizon.

I know but a single basic statistic about French-to-English translation of contemporary works and ask for no other to demonstrate its robust ness. Two twentieth century French authors have begun to appear in English translation in complete uniform editions: Colette and Valéry. I doubt if a more sensitive and economical choice could have been made by a discriminating critic of modern letters. A committee could never have done so. All France can be found in these two authors, from music hall to Academy, from Chanticleer’s farmyard to Mallarmé’s living room. The vagaries of publishing sometimes find the mark.

What lacks today in English after these centuries of valorous service is not impossible to discern. We still need performable and faithful translations of plays of all periods and, in almost the same sense, performable translations of poetry. Few translators seem to be able to work long in the theater or in verse without becoming stilted or excessively racy. Most, in fact, start one way or the other and hold their ground. There is also the wide field of memoirs, ripe for tilling after long neglect because of changes in taste. Outside these areas, a handful of important modern authors still await suitable presentation in English.

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