literary – ATA SLD

ATA SLD podcast: Episode 27 with Marian Schwartz

May 20, 2022

Dear SLD members,

The new episode of Slovo, the ATA SLD podcast is live!

In this episode, our podcast host Eugenia Tietz-Sokolskaya chats with Russian-to-English literary translator Marian Schwartz, who has translated a wide range of Russian literature, from classics to modern authors. Marian discusses her journey into the world of translation and publishing, as well as her latest published translation, Brisbane by Eugene Vodolazkin, with its joys and challenges.

Marian’s website: www.marianschwartz.com/
Publisher’s website: www.plough.com/en

Listen here or anywhere you get your podcasts – Slovo is available on Apple Podcasts, Google Play, and Spotify.

Don’t forget to subscribe, so you never miss an episode!

SLD Member Spotlight: An interview with Shelley Fairweather-Vega

May 12, 2021

In this column of the SLD Blog, we feature members of ATA’s Slavic Languages Division: translators and interpreters working in Slavic languages. Their stories, experience, and career highlights will inspire both beginners and experienced professionals. Today’s post is an interview with a long-time SLD member, ATA-certified Russian to English translator, Shelley Fairweather-Vega.

What is your story of getting started as a translator?

Like a lot of our colleagues, I became a translator accidentally. My first translation job was for School No. 26 for Blind and Weak-Sighted Children in Ryazan, Russia, where I worked as a Peace Corps volunteer, teaching English, from 2000 to 2002. The principal wanted a grant from an American organization. So every day for a week, I’d finish up teaching my adorable second- through seventh- graders and then spend an hour or two on the school’s computer, translating handwritten Russian bureaucratese into non-profit-sector English. We won the grant.

After Peace Corps, I had a series of jobs in government and libraries that required the use of Russian and sometimes translation. By the time I started my graduate school program, I was on ProZ and freelancing occasionally. In graduate school, I studied Uzbek as well as more Russian, and began translating from that language, too. A few years later, I quit my day job and became a full-time freelance translator.

What fields do you specialize in, and how did you build up your expertise in those areas?

I first specialized in legal Russian, especially concerning politics and current events. I had plenty of legal vocabulary at my fingertips from working with lawyers, but I enjoyed translating journalism more because, unlike court rulings and contracts, journalistic writing requires (and allows for!) a dash of creativity. As part of my job buying Russian-language books for the Multnomah County Library system in Portland, Oregon, I wanted to research new Russian fiction to identify the most interesting contemporary authors. I discovered Lizok’s Bookshelf, the blog by Lisa Hayden, a prolific translator of Russian fiction. I began wondering if I could do what Lisa does someday. Years later, when I had started translating books, I met Lisa at a translation conference, and I feel so lucky to consider her a colleague now. Reading Lisa’s translations and work by other literary translators has given me insight into how that sort of translation works (and sometimes doesn’t work), and networking through conferences and social media has taught me a lot about the field.

Literary translation projects aren’t constant, so I continue to take legal jobs and creative translation jobs that aren’t exactly high literature. I really enjoy working on computer games and scripts for Russian animated shows for kids, for instance. The task is not just to translate the plot and dialogue and camera directions well, but also to develop an end product that has a good chance of selling to English-speaking producers and entertaining English-language audiences. My training for that consisted solely of watching lots of cartoons on YouTube with my kids when they were little.

Can you share an example of the most rewarding project you have ever worked on and why it felt this way?

Probably the most rewarding translation I’ve published is a short essay by an Uzbek author, Mamadali Mahmudov, which he wrote while in prison on trumped-up political charges. It was a pro bono job through Translators Without Borders. Bringing attention to his plight felt like working for a good cause, and anyway, the translation married my two interests – literature and politics. As an extra bonus for me, my translation was noticed by another Uzbek writer, Hamid Ismailov. He contacted me, and since then, I’ve published translations of two novels, one essay, and three short stories of his.

In your opinion, what are the most important skills of a literary translator?

Literary translation is a specialization like any other, in some respects – you need to master the vocabulary and style of your source material and its equivalents in your target language. That means having a real eye and ear for dialogue in fiction and rhythm, rhyme, and meter in poetry, for example. None of those things works exactly the same in Russian, Uzbek, and English. Having a good background in different styles and genres in your languages helps a lot. And when you translate literature, you almost always work for direct clients, whether publishing houses or authors. That requires the business skills to constantly negotiate terms, seek out new work, answer your clients’ questions, and help them through the process of translation and publishing.

Literary translators also need to be fearless. In this field, your name will be on everything you translate, so you have to be ready for the scrutiny of editors, readers, and critics; and that means you need to be humble, because nothing you translate will ever be perfect, and everyone will know it.

At ATA’s 61^st Annual Conference, you presented a session called “Getting Edited and Getting Ahead in Literary Translation”. What have you learned from the experience of getting your work edited and editing other people’s work?

I think getting edited has helped to teach me that blend of fearlessness and humility that I mentioned above. I’ve learned so much from being edited, from the simplest things to the most complex psycho-literary tricks imaginable. On the simple side, it took an editor to finally tell me that в частности doesn’t mean “in part” – I hadn’t specifically learned the expression, my solution felt sort of obvious, and it always seemed to fit the context, so I’d never questioned it. I will never make that mistake again. But most editing doesn’t deal with simple translation errors – it’s about writing that could be improved. Most suggested edits I see simply tell me that something I’ve written isn’t clear or is triggering some unintended response in the reader. Then I get to do the hard mental work of figuring out where the fault lies and how to fix it, while still guided by what the original text is trying to say and do. The more often you go through this process, the more confidence you develop in your translation choices. You start to be able to predict what will trip up an editor and what their objections will be, so you self-edit as you translate. You build a store of arguments you can deploy when you need to convince the editor to see things your way. You also develop the insight and confidence you need to propose third solutions that solve the problem the editor identified and convey the meaning and style your translation needs to preserve.

When we have our work edited by others, it may be easy to perceive it negatively, get discouraged, or get defensive. Do you have any tips, especially for beginner translators, on how to see the positive sides of getting feedback and when to defend their translation choices?

Seeing that sea of red on the screen when you open up a document with tracked changes is always terribly alarming. I’m not sure that initial shock ever gets less painful. When you receive edits, try looking through them once without responding. Scan the whole text, read the comments, and try to just absorb an understanding of what is bothering the editor, what they like and don’t like. Then give yourself a break and do something else. After your heart rate returns to normal, go back to the text and start responding methodically. That will give you the time you need to let your natural defensiveness subside a little and to consider the suggested edits more objectively.

You will always find at least one edit that you’re thankful for. Respond to that one first and let that feeling of gratitude to the editor carry over as you continue. Even when you disagree with an edit, respond respectfully, either defending your choices or proposing new options politely and rationally. You’ll feel much healthier and more professional, more as if you’re in a productive conversation with the editor and less like you’re in a boxing ring, warding off blows.

Always pick your battles. Sometimes edits are purely preferential changes, doing nothing to improve the translation. But as long as the edit also does no harm, try to let the editor have their own way sometimes. The translation won’t suffer, and it will save you the grief of arguing over one more thing.

What is important to remember when we edit other people’s work?

Remember how the translator will feel when they see all those tracked changes and try not to traumatize them! Less is usually more; try only to suggest changes that objectively improve the translation in terms of accuracy or style or clearly improve the target-language writing. Often, it’s better to ask questions: rather than changing X to Y, ask, “Do you think Y would work here?” And be sure you know exactly what your role is, as editor, in this project. Does the final responsibility rest with you or with the translator? Are you expected to check the translation for accuracy or just polish the target-language text? If you find yourself making extensive edits, offer an explanation: “I’m changing most of the passive voice to active voice,” or “These terms are covered in the glossary,” for instance, so the translator knows what is guiding your editing decisions.

Finally, take the time to offer a compliment or two when the translator has come up with something especially good. Especially if you’re going to be editing this person’s work again, it’s smart – and kind – to establish some rapport.

What advice would you give to colleagues who are just getting started in translation?

The single most important thing you can do is read. Read the kinds of things you might translate in your source language and read all kinds of writing in your target language. Additionally, to thrive in this business, as solitary as it can be, you need to know people. Attend trainings and conferences, hang out on social media, join those listservs. Your colleagues will be your single best source of knowledge, referrals, advice, and inspiration.

Shelley Fairweather-Vega is an ATA-certified translator from Russian to English and an enthusiastic translator of Uzbek. Her translations of poetry and prose have been published by presses ranging from Routledge to Tilted Axis, and in Translation Review, Words Without Borders, story and poetry anthologies, and more. Shelley is currently President of the Northwest Translators and Interpreters Society (an ATA chapter) and serves on the advisory board of the Translation Studies Hub at the University of Washington.

Website: fairvega.com/translation

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/fairvega/

Shelley’s Amazon author page

We would love to feature other translators and interpreters working with Slavic languages in future SLD Blog posts! If you have recommendations or would like to share your own story and expertise, please email the SLD Blog co-editors: Veronika Demichelis and Marisa Irwin.

SLD Member Spotlight: An interview with Nora Seligman Favorov

April 8, 2021

In this column of the SLD Blog, we feature members of ATA’s Slavic Languages Division: translators and interpreters working in Slavic languages. Their stories, experience, and career highlights will inspire both beginners and experienced professionals. Today’s post is an interview with a long-time SLD member and SlavFile Associate Editor, Nora Seligman Favorov.

How did you first become involved with the Russian language and how did this lead to a career in translation?

My fascination with all things Russian might have faded into one life-long interest among many had it not been for a bit of serendipity. I had studied French from childhood through my third year of college. As my senior year began, I didn’t manage to get into a very popular seminar on nineteenth-century European literature (you had to be interviewed by the professor, and when he asked me what I had liked about Dickens’ Our Mutual Friend, which I mentioned having read the previous summer, all I could come up with was how funny all the characters’ names were). When I went to look at the list of courses that still had openings, I noticed that only two other people had signed up for first-year Russian. Since I was already enrolled in a year-long Russian history course, I thought it might be interesting to study the language and history in parallel. That year did the trick: I was hooked. After graduating, I attended the intensive Norwich Russian School summer program two summers running. It was one of those programs where you sign a pledge to speak only Russian. Although my one year of Russian had been very intense, the first summer was frustrating—I could understand much of the conversation and joking surrounding me, but I didn’t have the fluency to participate in it. My second summer there (after a year of office work) was better—I finally had enough Russian to socialize. A few months later, I was off to Moscow to study at the Pushkin Institute for a semester. I wound up staying a year and a half and marrying my husband, Oleg. When we moved to the States, I put him through grad school doing office work, but I longed to find a way to work with Russian. I played around with literary translation (Pushkin and Bulgakov—my favorites) and accepted various translation assignments. I was diligent in my translation work, but not really qualified. To make sure I wasn’t handing in terrible translations, I recruited local emigres to work with me. Only after I got my master’s degree in 1997 did I start to feel like a legitimate translator. That was when I first translated the 1863 novel City Folk and Country Folk by Sofia Khvoshchinskaya, which was only published twenty years later (Columbia, 2017). I spent those twenty years doing a variety of assignments—literary, historical, legal, medical—often in collaboration with colleagues, especially Elana Pick, whom I met in 1999 at an ATA seminar in New York.

What fields do you specialize in and how did you build up your expertise in those areas?

My time now is primarily divided between literary translation, my work for Russian Life magazine, for which I translate and serve as Translation Editor, and my work on SlavFile. However, at different stages of my career, I have focused on translating in several areas, including civil society, public health, and scholarly articles. Although I went into translation aspiring to be a literary translator, I had (and have) an equal interest in Russian history, particularly the Stalin era. Another piece of serendipity led to a number of Stalin-era history translations for Yale University Press: the series editor and I both belonged to the same karate organization. I was already fairly knowledgeable about Soviet history, so I was pretty well equipped to translate the material. However, working with Oleg Khlevniuk (for whom I translated Master of the House: Stalin and His Inner Circle and Stalin: New Biography of a Dictator), an eminent historian of the era who spent years as a researcher in the State Archives (GARF), was a particularly excellent education. I loved our email discussions of how to decode the special language of the Stalin-era government and secret police so that Anglophone readers could have the fullest possible appreciation of the information that he was imparting. Working with living authors is sometimes problematic, but having Oleg there to explain anything in his texts that confused me was invaluable. Additionally, we all know that dictionaries and even the resources offered by the internet have their limitations, so native Russian speakers who have generously and patiently entertained my endless questions have been critical over the years to “building up” my expertise, such as it is. Barely a week goes by when I don’t flood Elana Pick’s inbox with questions, and my husband is lucky to pass by my study without my waylaying him with some puzzle in the text I’m working on. Rimma Garn, a former grad school colleague, has also been extremely helpful. Building relationships with colleagues working in the opposite direction is invaluable.

Can you share an example of the most rewarding project you have ever worked on and why it felt this way? What project was the most challenging and why?

No doubt the most rewarding project I have worked on was City Folk and Country Folk. I was driven by a strong desire to bring this little known (even in Russia) gem to light. As for my “most challenging” translation, hands down, the winner is Arthur Tsutsiev’s Atlas of the Ethno-Political History of the Caucasus (Yale, 2014). I know that there are many experts on the geography and ethnic composition of the Caucasus, but I doubt any of them share Tsutsiev’s grasp of such intricacies as the precise timing and contours of the shifting boundaries between Ottoman, Persian, and Russian influence in the eighteenth century, every little change of the Russian Empire’s and later Soviet Union’s administrative designations of territories (from okrugs to oblasts to gubernias, etc.), every fortified position along the many defensive lines Russia maintained during the nineteenth century, and the most minute details of the Karabakh conflict. The budget for the Atlas project was modest, and the work involved seemed to expand with every passing day, as long discussions were held for each map and accompanying text about what language (Russian, Arabic, Persian, Turkic, one of the dozens of indigenous languages?) should serve as the basis for a geographic entity’s transliteration into English at a particular point in time as they shifted in and out of the hands of Russia, the Ponte, Persia, and associated local khanates, shamkhalates, or naibates. As everyone knows, the Caucasus is home to a vast array of ethnic groups, many of whose names have no standard English spelling. There was often no authoritative English-language source to turn to, or one authoritative source used one spelling and another a different one. In any event, I’m very happy to have been a part of the creation of this valuable resource and to have worked with as impressive a scholar as Tsutsiev.

In your opinion, what are the most important skills for a literary translator?

Literary translators must have a good ear for voice—both the voices of their narrators and of the characters, including an ability to hear and reflect all the subtleties of class, temporal, geographic, and ethnic usage, and the attitudes and emotions involved in the original dialogue. Most of all, however, I think literary translators need to understand how much time is needed for literary translation. Over the years, I’ve mined many translations for examples for talks and articles, and even highly respected translators make a lot of mistakes. It takes many reads by the translator and others to weed out all the misunderstandings and infelicities. So yes, skills are important, but they are not enough. You need patience and a willingness (and the finances) to give literary texts the time they need.

At ATA’s 61st Annual Conference, you presented a session called “Balancing Act: Sneaking Historical Context into a Literary Translation from Russian.” What have you learned from the experience of translating a 19th-century Russian novel?

I have learned that it’s hard. Even contemporary Russian is a bottomless pit, and the more decades and centuries you put between yourself and the material you’re translating, the harder it gets to be confident you understand your text. Even erudite native speakers sometimes don’t understand certain wordings. I am in awe at Constance Garnett (1861-1946), who broke ground as the first English-language translator of so many of nineteenth-century Russian literature’s most important works—without the internet and without the paper dictionaries that exist today. She did have the advantage of being contemporary to some of the men (alas, they were all men) she translated and of having Russians around her who were willing to go over her translations, especially the early ones, line-by-line. Despite the obstacles she faced, her translations are still among the best available.

What advice would you give to colleagues who are considering literary translation?

Find a project you love, give it a lot of time, find yourself a number of readers—both those able to read the original and those who can’t—to comment on your translation. Those who don’t know Russian can tell you what doesn’t sound like natural English, and those who do will probably identify spots where you misinterpreted the original, so you know what traps to look out for. If the process doesn’t turn out to be enjoyable, then you’re in luck—you can find something you’ll make a better living at. If you find yourself hooked, then you’re in for some fun. For me, literary translation is one of life’s greatest pleasures.

As for getting published, the most important thing is to make connections of the sort you can make at an ATA conference and have more experienced colleagues advise you on the process. There is no single pathway to success.

Nora Seligman Favorov is a Russian-to-English translator specializing in Russian literature and history. Her translation of Sofia Khvoshchinskaya’s 1863 novel City Folk and Country Folk (Columbia, 2017) was recognized by the American Association of Teachers of Slavic and Eastern European Languages as “Best Literary Translation into English” for 2018. Her translation of Stalin: New Biography of a Dictator by Oleg Khlevniuk (Yale, 2015) was selected as Pushkin House UK’s “best Russian book in translation” for 2016. An ATA certification grader (for Russian-to-English) since 2004, she serves as managing editor for the SLD’s newsletter, SlavFile and translation editor for Russian Life magazine. A native of New York City, she currently lives in Chapel Hill, NC and can be reached at norafavorov@gmail.com.

SLD Member Spotlight: An interview with Natalie Shahova

March 5, 2021

In this new(ish) column of the SLD Blog, we feature members of ATA’s Slavic Languages Division: translators and interpreters working in Slavic languages. Their stories, experience, and career highlights will inspire both beginners and experienced professionals. Today’s post is an interview with a long-time SLD member, Natalie Shahova.

Can you please share your story of getting started as a translator?

I started learning English with a private tutor when I was five. However, as a student, I got a PhD in math at Moscow State University and for about fifteen years I wasn’t professionally involved with languages (except doing some random translation jobs as a student). I worked as a professor of computer science at a Moscow university. But after the collapse of the Soviet Union, I had to moonlight and gradually became a full-time translator.

What fields do you specialize in and how did you build up your expertise in those areas?

At first, I specialized in IT (based on my computer science background). Back in the 90s, IT translations were in great demand as at that time Russia was flooded with foreign equipment. New devices required user guides, operator manuals, and other documentation translated into Russian. Also, several foreign (mostly American) magazines such as PC Week and PC Magazine introduced their Russian versions. Translating articles for these magazines allowed me to keep abreast of the latest technologies. However, over time the demand for IT translations greatly decreased as IT companies started to translate their documentation centrally and Russian IT magazines moved to publication of original articles written by Russian authors. By then, I was already managing EnRus translation agency. After IT, we focused on medicine through our long-term cooperation with AIHA (American International Health Alliance). Currently, we mostly do legalese – certainly not my strong point. So my job is mostly that of a manager – attracting customers, receiving and assigning orders – and I translate nonfiction as a kind of hobby (this kind of work – in most cases – doesn’t bring real money).

Can you share an example of the most rewarding project you have ever worked on and why it felt that way? What project was the most challenging and why?

The most famous project of EnRus was translating Business@The Speed of Thought, by Bill Gates: as the author is well known in Russia, the Russian translation of his book was reprinted several times and widely discussed in the media. This brought me a lot of intense feedback: the readers of our translation wrote me and even called my phone.

My favorite project was the translation of Eats, Shoots & Leaves, by Lynne Truss. I was always interested in grammar and semantics (both in Russian and in English) and this book includes many interesting facts about punctuation in general and English punctuation in particular, as well as tons of funny and enlightening examples. I love humor, and trying to make my translation as amusing as the original was a very gratifying challenge. After finishing the translation, I wrote an article on the differences between English and Russian punctuation and on how punctuation marks should be changed while translating from English into Russian. The article was published in Мосты and in SlavFile (Fall 2008 Vol. 17, No. 4).

You translated the book “Found in Translation” by Nataly Kelly and Jost Zetzsche into Russian. What was that experience like? Can you share the story of how this project came to be? Did you have an opportunity to discuss your translation strategy with the authors? Were there any particular segments that were especially challenging or interesting to translate that you would like to share?

I bought the book at the ATA conference in San Diego (2012). The authors signed my copy, and I started dreaming of translating it sometime in the future. In 2019, all of a sudden, the publishing house Azbuka Atticus approached me with an offer because my translations of Is That a Fish in Your Ear? by David Bellos, A Language Spotter’s Guide to Europe and Babel by Gaston Dorren, and How to Speak Any Language Fluently by Alex Rawlings brought me the somewhat unjustified accolade of an expert in linguistics.

The translation was done in close cooperation with the authors who kindly and patiently answered my numerous questions.

For me, one of the interesting topics covered in the book was Deaf culture. Below are just two quotations from the book:

Jack Jason is known as a CODA, a child of deaf adults. As with most CODAs born in the United States, American Sign Language (ASL)—not English—is his native language. He grew up in California, so the only voice in his house was the voice on television. As he got older, Jason eventually became part of the hearing world, went to school, and learned to speak English (and Spanish).

Contrary to popular belief, sign language is not universal—there are hundreds of signed languages in use throughout the world. For example, there are more than eighteen different sign languages used in Spanish-speaking countries. Wherever there are large communities of people who are deaf, signed languages emerge naturally, and usually without any dependence on spoken languages.

What advice would you give to colleagues who are just getting started in translation?

I would like to tell them that translation and interpretation is a very diverse field and only an extremely talented person could be a “universal” translator. I suggest trying and seeing what is good for you and specializing in that particular field because there are only two ways to achieve high income (and I think it applies to other professions as well):

performing a high volume of simple jobs, at a low rate;
performing only selected jobs that require high quality, at a high rate.

Unfortunately, customers rarely seek high quality as most of them just don’t understand that translation could be of various quality and that the quality of translation could have an impact on their business (because not all of them have read Kelly and Zetzsche’s book). That’s why forming a base of clients ready to pay for quality can take years.

I found Becoming a Translator by Douglas Robinson (EnRus has translated it into Russian) very helpful because I did not have a background in linguistics. I believe that it could be also useful to other beginners even if they do have a linguistic diploma as the book connects theory to practice.

Natalie Shahova is the founder and head of EnRus translation agency. She has translated some 20 books and published dozens of articles in both Russian and English.

ATA directory listing

ProZ

Facebook

EnRus website

Article in Winter 2020 SlavFile, p. 11

Spring 2020: A Very Literary SlavFile

June 1, 2020

SlavFile Header

By sheer coincidence, this year’s spring issue of SlavFile turned out to be focused almost entirely on literary translation. The issue starts with Isaac Wheeler’s insightful “Hierarchy of Conflicting Demands,” in which he prioritizes seven stipulations a literary translation must meet, ranging from (No. 1) “Does it produce the same effect on the reader as the original?” to (No. 7) “Does it use the same metaphorical mechanism as the original?” He talks about various efforts to figure out what goes on “under the hood” during literary translation. The examples he draws from his own work demonstrate a keen attentiveness to what’s happening under his own. His article is followed by Part II of Steven McGrath’s excellent interview with literary translator Carol Apollonio, which centers on her experiences translating Chekhov. The issue also features a lengthy interview with Olga Bukhina, who has spent decades translating Anglophone children’s literature into Russian (and who oversees a Russian-into-English translation contest for bilingual children). Two reviews of sessions presented at ATA60 in Palm Springs are also literary: Julia LaVilla-Nossova’s review of Martha Kosir’s “On Understanding and Translating Humor: The Spirits of Heinrich Boll’s House” and my own review of Shelley Fairweather-Vega’s “Decolonizing Central Asia through Translation.” The issue concludes with Part IV of Lydia Razran Stone’s contemplation of Krylov, commenced in commemoration of last year’s 250th anniversary of his birth.

Even our administrators’ “Notes from the Administrative Underground,” which ponders the isolation that is, at times, a part of our profession and how our SLD community can help ease it (we’ve all become even more isolated since it was originally written in early March!), features Zinaida Gippius’s poem “Цепь,” evocatively translated by Maria Jacqueline Evans. We hope our readers will enjoy and learn from this superb (if we may say so ourselves) issue.

Nora Seligman Favorov

Associate Editor

SLD Podcast: Episode 19 with Shelley Fairweather-Vega

December 9, 2019

The SLD Podcast is out with a new episode, new season, new name, and new host! This newest Slovo features Shelley Fairweather-Vega, who translates from Russian and Uzbek. Shelley talks about learning these languages, her transition from commercial to literary translation, and the books she has translated recently.

Listen to the newest episode on Soundcloud, or subscribe to the podcast on Apple Podcasts or Google Play so you never miss an episode!

6 Anti-Love Poems on the Occasion of Valentine’s Day

February 14, 2018

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Do you find the Valentine’s Day celebration of romantic love a bit much? Do you cast about in search of refuge from the onslaught of bliss? Look no further! Lydia Razran Stone—the indefatigable editor of SlavFile and a specialist in translating Russian poetry—has put together a few of her translated of Russian poems focusing on the negatives of love to serve as your antidote to an excess of Valentine’s Day positivity. If you would like more poems in this vein, you can contact her at lydiastone@verizon.net for more of her translations.

A: THE MALE PERSPECTIVE

FYODOR TYUTCHEV: LOVE AS COMBAT

Предопределение Федор Тютчев 1851

Любовь, любовь – гласит преданье –
Союз души с душой родной –
Их съединенье, сочетанье,
И роковое их слиянье.
И… поединок роковой…

И чем одно из них нежнее
В борьбе неравной двух сердец,
Тем неизбежней и вернее,
Любя, страдая, грустно млея,
Оно изноет наконец…

Predestination Fedor Tyutchev 1851

Through love, through loves, as legends state it
Two kindred souls seek fusion true
Forever more to be related;
Ideal communion –destined, fated.
But fate locks them in combat too.

And in this combat one soul’s fires
Always burns with love more pure.
It suffers more, to more aspires,
But in the end that soul expires,
That’s its fate, predestined, sure.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: http://www.ruthenia.ru/tiutcheviana/stihi/bp/172.html

SASHA CHERNYY THE SAD CONSEQUENCES OF INFIDELITY: THE LONG SUFFERING HUSBAND

Колыбельная Саша Черный 1910

Мать уехала в Париж…
И не надо! Спи, мой чиж.
А-а-а! Молчи, мой сын,
Нет последствий без причин.
Черный, гладкий таракан
Важно лезет под диван,
От него жена в Париж
Не сбежит, о нет! шалишь!
С нами скучно. Мать права.
Новый гладок, как Бова,
Новый гладок и богат,
С ним не скучно… Так-то, брат!
А-а-а! Огонь горит,
Добрый снег окно пушит.
Спи, мой кролик, а-а-а!
Все на свете трын-трава…
Жили-были два крота,
Вынь-ка ножку изо рта!
Спи, мой зайчик, спи, мой чиж,—
Мать уехала в Париж.
Чей ты? Мой или его?
Спи, мой мальчик, ничего!
Не смотри в мои глаза…
Жили козлик и коза…
Кот козу увез в Париж…
Спи, мой котик, спи, мой чиж!
Через… год… вернется… мать…
Сына нового рожать…

Lullaby Sasha Cherny

Hush, my little sleepy-head.
Mama’s gone –to Paris fled.
Ah-Ah-Ah, please don’t you weep.
There were reasons, go to sleep.
Over there beneath the couch
Crawls a sleek and shiny roach.
Where’s his wife? In Paris, too?
No, she isn’t; that’s not true.
Life here’s dull, with you and me.
So says Mama, I agree.
Mama’s new one’s rich and sleek.
He won’t bore her in a week.
Ah-Ah-Ah! The candles glow;
Window panes pile up with snow.
Sleep my funny little man!
All the world’s not worth a damn…
Once there lived a deer and doe…
Do not chew upon your toe.
Sleep my bunny, rest your head!
Mama’s gone –to Paris fled.
Are you mine or are you his?
Doesn’t matter which it is!
Do not look at me like that…
Once there lived a kitty cat…
But a tom bore her away.
Sleep, my son, it’s almost day.
She’ll come back before too long
To birth us another son….

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: https://45parallel.net/sasha_chernyy/kolybelnaya_mat_uekhala.html

THE WOMAN’S PERSPECTIVE
Zinaida Gippius- EVEN IF IT IS GROTESQUE, MIGHT IT STILL BE LOVE?

Зинаида Гиппиус ДЬЯВОЛЕНОК 1906

Мне повстречался дьяволенок,
Худой и щуплый – как комар.
Он телом был совсем ребенок,
Лицом же дик: остер и стар.

Шел дождь… Дрожит, темнеет тело,
Намокла всклоченная шерсть…
И я подумал: эко дело!
Ведь тоже мерзнет. Тоже персть.

Твердят: любовь, любовь! Не знаю.
Не слышно что-то. Не видал.
Вот жалость… Жалость понимаю.
И дьяволенка я поймал.

Пойдем, детеныш! Хочешь греться?
Не бойся, шерстку не ерошь.
Что тут на улице тереться?
Дам детке сахару… Пойдешь?

А он вдруг эдак сочно, зычно,
Мужским, ласкающим баском
(Признаться – даже неприлично
И жутко было это в нем) –

Пророкотал: “Что сахар? Глупо.
Я, сладкий, сахару не ем.
Давай телятинки да супа…
Уж я пойду к тебе – совсем”.

Он разозлил меня бахвальством…
А я хотел еще помочь!
Да ну тебя с твоим нахальством!
И не спеша пошел я прочь.

Но он заморщился и тонко
Захрюкал… Смотрит, как больной…
Опять мне жаль… И дьяволенка
Тащу, трудясь, к себе домой.

Смотрю при лампе: дохлый, гадкий,
Не то дитя, не то старик.
И все твердит: “Я сладкий, сладкий…”
Оставил я его. Привык.

И даже как-то с дьяволенком
Совсем сжился я наконец.
Он в полдень прыгает козленком,
Под вечер – темен, как мертвец.

То ходит гоголем-мужчиной,
То вьется бабой вкруг меня,
А если дождик – пахнет псиной
И шерстку лижет у огня.

Я прежде всем себя тревожил:
Хотел того, мечтал о том…
А с ним мой дом… не то, что ожил,
Но затянулся, как пушком
Безрадостно-благополучно,
И нежно-сонно, и темно…
Мне с дьяволенком сладко-скучно…
Дитя, старик,- не все ль равно?

Такой смешной он, мягкий, хлипкий,
Как разлагающийся гриб.
Такой он цепкий, сладкий, липкий,
Все липнул, липнул – и прилип.

И оба стали мы – едины.
Уж я не с ним – я в нем, я в нем!
Я сам в ненастье пахну псиной
И шерсть лижу перед огнем…

Zinaida Gippius THE LITTLE DEVIL 1906

One night I met, to my surprise,
A puny devil, blue with cold—
No bigger than a child in size,
His feral face was gaunt and old.

He shivered in the icy rain,
Which had soaked through his matted pelt.
“This son of hell feels cold and pain–
We share one fate,” I somehow felt.

They talk of love! What do I know?
Love’s something I don’t understand.
But pity? Yes, it moves me. So
I seized that devil by the hand.

“You’ll surely freeze here on the street.
Come home with me; we’ll get you warm!
I’ll feed you something hot and sweet.
Don’t be afraid, I mean no harm.”

He spoke—his voice a booming bass
As thick, and rich, and smooth as honey–
From his lank throat so out of place
It seemed indecent, even funny.

“Am I a babe, seduced by sweets?
I cannot stand them, never could.
Just feed me soup and fat red meats
And I’ll move in with you for good.”

At his brash words I took offense,
(My own had been much more than kind.)
Disgusted with such insolence
I turned to go, but changed my mind.

He gave a squeal so thin and shrill;
His face contorted pitifully.
He seemed so weak and looked so ill,
I had to drag him home with me.

In lamplight he looked nasty, seedy
A mix of aged imp and baby,
Who kept repeating, “I’m a sweetie.”
“He’ll grow on me,” I thought, “just maybe.”

So I got used to all his ways;
And he soon made himself at home;
Days, like a child, he romps and plays;
At dusk reverts to senile gnome.

At times his walk’s a manly stride;
At times a prancing girlish step.
Before the hearth he licks his hide
And stinks of dog when weather’s wet.

I used to worry, fret and strive;
I dreamed and longed for foolish stuff…
He gave my home, if not new life,
At least a coat of fuzzy fluff.
Devoid of woe, devoid of joy,
Our life’s a dark, dull, drowsy song.
A senile devil, babe, or boy—
What do I care—we get along.

He is so funny, soft and flimsy,
A rotting mushroom past its prime,
He is so sweetly sticky, clingy;
He stuck to me and now he’s mine.

Now he and I have grown together.
Not just united; we’re the same.
I stink of dog in rainy weather,
And lick my fur before the flame.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: http://pishi-stihi.ru/dyavolenok-gippius.html

Marina Tsvetayeva: BETTER OFF WITHOUT IT, OR MAYBE NOT

Марина Цветаева 1915

Мне нравится, что вы больны не мной,
Мне нравится, что я больна не вами,
Что никогда тяжелый шар земной
Не уплывет под нашими ногами.

Мне нравится, что можно быть смешной –
Распущенной – и не играть словами,
И не краснеть удушливой волной,
Слегка соприкоснувшись рукавами.

Мне нравится еще, что вы при мне
Спокойно обнимаете другую,
Не прочите мне в адовом огне
Гореть за то, что я не вас целую.
Что имя нежное мое, мой нежный, не
Упоминаете ни днем, ни ночью – всуе…
Что никогда в церковной тишине
Не пропоют над нами: аллилуйя!

Спасибо вам и сердцем и рукой
За то, что вы меня – не зная сами! –
Так любите: за мой ночной покой,
За редкость встреч закатными часами,
За наши не-гулянья под луной,
За солнце, не у нас над головами,-
За то, что вы больны – увы! – не мной,
За то, что я больна – увы! – не вами!

Marina Tsvetayeva 1915

How nicе to know what ails me is not you,
How nice to know what ails you is not me.
And thus we’ll never feel, as lovers do,
Firm earth beneath us turn to flowing sea.
How nice to act the fool or talk too much,
Feel free to let you see me at my worst.
And if some day by chance our sleeves may touch.
No fiery flush my cool cheek will immerse.

How nice that you can calmly, though I’m near,
Enfold another woman in embrace;
That you do not berate me, do not jeer
When I display no urge to take her place;
That you my sweet, don’t seek to speak my name
Not heeding if it’s apt or apropos;
That loving vows we never will declaim;
Into the future hand and hand won’t go.

I’m grateful to you, more than I can tell,
For gifts of love, though given unaware:
For peaceful nights I sleep alone and well,
For keeping twilight trysts so very rare,
For moonlight walks that never came to be,
For sunlight not intended just for two.
Because, alas, you’re not what’s ailing me;
Because, alas, I’m not what’s ailing you.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: http://www.stihi-rus.ru/1/Cvetaeva/74.htm

SOME CONSOLATION
BULAT OKUDZHAVA: IF YOU’RE LUCKY AN UNHEALTHY LOVE TRANSFORMS INTO A BETTER KIND

Булат Окуджава 1959

Мне нужно на кого-нибудь молиться.
Подумайте, простому муравью
вдруг захотелось в ноженьки валиться,
поверить в очарованность свою!

И муравья тогда покой покинул,
все показалось будничным ему,
и муравей создал себе богиню
по образу и духу своему.

И в день седьмой, в какое-то мгновенье,
она возникла из ночных огней
без всякого небесного знаменья…
Пальтишко было легкое на ней.

Все позабыв — и радости и муки,
он двери распахнул в свое жилье
и целовал обветренные руки
и старенькие туфельки ее.,

И тени их качались на пороге.
Безмолвный разговор они вели,
красивые и мудрые, как боги,
и грустные, как жители земли.

Bulat Okudzhava-1959

I feel the need for someone I can pray to.
Imagine that a common lowly ant
Was overcome by yearning for a way to
Prostrate himself—as humble supplicant.

At peace no more, dispirited, frustrated
So all the world appeared to him mundane.
A goddess in his image he created
And worshipped her; his prayers were not in vain.

For when his days of prayer had numbered seven,
She did appear to him one winter’s night
Without a single augury from heaven…
The jacket that she wore was far too light.

Forgetting all the past – both pain and pleasure,
He opened wide the door out to the street
And kissed her hands, chapped raw from wind and weather,
And then the shabby slippers on her feet.

Two shadows moved like dancers in the entry.
And wordlessly communion seemed to flow.
And they were fair and wise like heaven’s gentry,
But sad like mortal folk on earth below.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: http://www.stihi-rus.ru/1/okud/32.htm

Nikolay Gumilyov: EVEN IF LOVE DOES NOT BRIDGE THE GENDER GAP, ONE CAN TRY

Николай Гумилев Жираф 1907

Сегодня, я вижу, особенно грустен твой взгляд
И руки особенно тонки, колени обняв.
Послушай: далёко, далёко, на озере Чад
Изысканный бродит жираф.

Ему грациозная стройность и нега дана,
И шкуру его украшает волшебный узор,
С которым равняться осмелится только луна,
Дробясь и качаясь на влаге широких озер.

Вдали он подобен цветным парусам корабля,
И бег его плавен, как радостный птичий полет.
Я знаю, что много чудесного видит земля,
Когда на закате он прячется в мраморный грот.

Я знаю веселые сказки таинственных стран
Про чёрную деву, про страсть молодого вождя,
Но ты слишком долго вдыхала тяжелый туман,
Ты верить не хочешь во что-нибудь кроме дождя.

И как я тебе расскажу про тропический сад,
Про стройные пальмы, про запах немыслимых трав.
Ты плачешь? Послушай… далёко, на озере Чад
Изысканный бродит жираф.

Nikolay Gumilyov The Giraffe 1907

I see that this morning your eyes are especially sad;
Especially slender the arms that encircle your calves
Well, listen, far off to the south on the shores of Lake Chad,
There roams the exquisite giraffe.

To him have been given harmonious figure and grace,
His hide is embellished with pattern of magic design,
Which only the Moon would have daring enough to retrace
As playfully dancing she dapples the lake with her shine.

He seems at a distance a luminous sail on the waves
And fluid his gait, like a bird in its rapturous flight.
But only the Earth knows the site of the marble walled caves
To which he retreats when the sun starts to set every night.

I’d cheer you with tales of this land full of legend and song,
Of young tribal chiefs and dark maids, of their passion and pain…
But you have been breathing the fogs of the North for too long
And don’t want to believe there is anything else but the rain.

No lighthearted tales of the tropics can make your heart glad
You cannot imagine the palms or the scent of the alien grass…
You’re crying? Well, listen…on the distant shores of Lake Chad
There roams the exquisite giraffe.

Original is in the public domain and may be found online at: https://gumilev.ru/verses/375/

All translations by Lydia Razran Stone, published with permission.

Coming Out of the Shadow: Review of Madeline G. Levine’s Susana Greiss Lecture [from SlavFile]

August 31, 2017

Reviewed by Christine Pawlowski

Reprinted from SlavFile

Each year at the American Translators Association Annual Conference, the Susana Greiss lecture brings an eminent guest lecturer to speak upon some aspect of translation/interpretation related to the Slavic languages. ATA’s Polonists owe a debt of gratitude to Nora Favorov, who initially reached out to Madeline Levine, the 2016 speaker. Dr. Levine’s address, “In the Shadow of Russian: Forty Years of Translating Polish Literature,” proved a seminal event: Dr. Levine became the first speaker in the nineteen-year history of the Greiss lecture to address a Polish subject.

Graduates of Slavic Studies programs in the United States have often encountered the tendency to categorize the various Slavic literatures as “major” or “minor,” with Russian at the top. In 1963, Dr. Levine, a Russian specialist at Harvard, chose to study Polish as her secondary literature requirement. It turned out to be a serendipitous decision; the need for scholarly attention to and good literary translation of Polish was extreme. In fact, an American colleague of Dr. Levine’s once greeted her with the question, “Is there really such a thing as Polish literature?” Learning “at breakneck speed” to read Polish, Dr. Levine began a lifelong career translating this “minor” literature.

Dr. Levine’s early work was made more difficult by the lack of critical resources available. (She singled out Kridl’s “stupefyingly dull,” blue-covered, pictureless survey.) This situation was radically transformed by the publication of Miłosz’s 1969 work, The History of Polish Literature, which helped to provide a cultural and historical context for Polish literature in a “readable, even exciting” way. As I pulled out my 40-year-old copy of this book, heavily annotated in the early ‘70s, I found myself in wholehearted agreement. Miłosz’s work, with its determination to “avoid… scholarly dryness” and “preserve… a trace of a smile” must have created something of a Lazarus experience when it first appeared—Polish literature was alive after all.

Among other groundbreaking efforts for Polish literature in English, Dr. Levine explored the “labors of love” undertaken by Celina Wieniewska and Barbara Vedder. These pioneering women translated the works of Bruno Schulz and Tadeusz Borowski, two unknown writers whose influence now reaches worldwide. Dr. Levine has produced new translations of these works, and her translation of Bruno Schulz’s prose fiction is soon to be published by Northwestern University Press.

A primary focus of Dr. Levine’s work has been Jewish-themed literature in the Polish language. In translating works about the Holocaust and in her work as a university professor, she has delved into the question: “How is it possible that such horror can be captured and transformed into works of artistic beauty?” She has also taken on another wartime subject: her re-translation of Białoszewski’s Memoir of the Warsaw Uprising was released by the New York Review of Books in their Classics series.

Dr. Levine has had her share of good fortune: at a very young age, she obtained her first position as Assistant Professor at the City University of New York “sight unseen” after a phone interview. She enjoyed the stability of her position in the University of North Carolina’s Slavic Languages and Literatures Department (now Germanic & Slavic Languages and Literatures). However, she has also experienced the vicissitudes of the publishing industry and, as a result, seems to have developed the patience of a saint! After 40 years of sharing an unknown literary culture with readers and students, Dr. Levine leaves her audience with the firm conviction that she has only just begun. When I asked her at our communal lunch: “So what still needs to be translated?” She responded: “Everything!”

I encourage you to read excerpts from Dr. Levine’s talk on the next page to learn more about the fascinating and, at times, frustrating professional journey of a “student-teacher-scholar-translator.”

Christine Pawlowski is a freelance Polish and Russian translator with an M.A. in Slavic Languages and Literatures from Indiana University, “Tsvetograd.” She is retired from teaching elementary music and enjoys being called “Busia” by her 10 grandchildren. She is ATA certified (Polish-English). She may be reached at pawlow@verizon.net.

This article first appeared in the Spring 2017 issue of SlavFile. We invite you to check out the full publication for the excerpts from Dr. Levine’s talk referenced in the review, as well as a follow-up by Nora Favorov, “The List,” about the list of pre-1945 works in various Slavic languages that still need to be translated.

Going to this year’s ATA conference in Washington, DC? Then we encourage you to attend this year’s Susana Greiss lecture! “The Long and Winding Road to Becoming a Presidential Interpreter,” presented by Nikolai Sorokin, will take place on Thursday, October 26, at 3:30 PM. Nikolai Sorokin will also present a session on interpreting on Friday, October 27, at 10:00 AM, titled “Wow! How Am I Going to Interpret That?”. We hope to see you there!