Subject:
NABOKOV-L] Archeological Sighting: Nabokov,Wilson, Pushkin: Remnick and Meyers
From:
Jansy <jansy@aetern.us> <mailto:jansy@aetern.us>
Date:
Fri, 25 Mar 2011 13:13:10 -0300
To:
<NABOKV-L@listserv.ucsb.edu> <mailto:NABOKV-L@listserv.ucsb.edu>
The on-line reproduction of Nabokov's poem about translation ("the impossibility, the insult, of translation") - in Portuguese, results from a collective work of translators: Alvaro Hattnher, Celso Nogueira e Ivo Korytowski. It is part of an edition of David Remnick's 2006 book "Inside the Forest"*
“Que é tradução? Em um prato
A cabeça pálida e de olhar fixo de um poeta,
O grito de um papagaio, ruídos de um macaco,
E a profanação dos mortos.
Os parasitas com quem foste tão duro
Serão perdoados se eu tiver o teu perdão,
Ó Puchkin, por meu estratagema.
Viajei até teu caule secreto,
Atingi a raiz, e lá me alimentei;
Então, em uma língua recém-aprendida,
Fiz crescer outro talo e transformei
Tua estrofe, moldada como um soneto,
Em minha honesta e vulgar prosa —
Toda espinho, mas parente da tua rosa.
The author of the above 2009 internet quote, Euler de França Belém, also develops the Nabokov-Wilson exchanges about the translation of “Ievguêni Oniéguin” (ou “Eugene Onegin”) by Puchkin, departing from Jeffrey Meyers: "Edmund Wilson — Uma Vida” (Civilização Brasileira, 681 páginas, tradução caótica de Fausto Wolff). Nineteen pages serve to describe the “nabokovês” (an allusion to a Nabokov private language) and Meyers gives the trophy to Wilson.
David Remnick's "Translation Wars" in Brasil was titled “Dentro da Floresta — Perfis e Outros Escritos da Revista The New Yorker” (Companhia das Letras, 575 páginas), are dedicated to the Nabokov-Wilson polemic. *
Trying to investigate the original title of Remnick's book, I found a review, dated from May 14, 2006, about 'Reporting: Writings from The New Yorker,' by David Remnick, written by Pete Hamill, "A Ringside Seat."
Excerpts: "EZRA POUND was a crackpot on social and political issues, but he knew what he was talking about in matters of the written language. In 1934, in "ABC of Reading," he said, "Literature is news that stays news." In that sense, this collection of articles by David Remnick can stand as literature. Since 1998, of course, Remnick has served as the editor of The New Yorker, certainly a full-time job...from the beginning of his editorial duties, Remnick has continued working as a reporter and writer. In the modern era, not many editors make such a choice. "I was the opposite of a specialist," he writes... So it is no surprise that these 23 pieces from The New Yorker are the work of a proud generalist, avidly curious about the many enigmas of the world. The articles in "Reporting" range from patient, careful visits with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (in Vermont exile and again after his return to the new Russia he helped create) to the ravages of Hurricane Katrina. ... The older articles still make a reader understand better the issues of the present day...As a writer, Remnick practices a classic journalistic style: concrete nouns, active verbs, graceful sentences, solid paragraphs, subtle transitions. A sly wit often punches up the prose, and he is hip in the original sense of the word, which was "knowing," not "fashionable." One measure of his accomplishment is what he avoids: jargon, prophecy, slang that instantly grows moldy, those ugly words that come out of sociology or the Beltway ("proactive," "impact" as a verb, too many others). I've been edited by Remnick and interviewed by him, and came away from each experience respecting his intelligence and professionalism. As an editor, he wants to make the writer's work better; as a writer, he treats the reader as an informed, intelligent equal...The engine of his published work is, of course, reporting. Every reporter inhales skepticism. You interview people and they lie. You face public figures, diligently making notes or taping what is said, and they perform their interviews to fit a calculated script. The truth, alas, is always elusive...The bad food and arctic winds soon gave way to one of the great stories of the last decades of the 20th century, and Remnick had a ringside seat. He used every available tool to make sense of what he was seeing... Remnick had struggled valiantly with Russian as a student at Princeton (both grandfathers were Russian)...IT is no accident that six of the pieces in this collection are part of the aftermath of that historic time. Other articles show that Remnick was still learning from his subjects. In a fine essay about the continuing project of retranslating the great Russian writers, he quotes Vladimir Nabokov: "In art as in science there is no delight without the detail. . . . All 'general ideas' (so easily acquired, so profitably resold) must necessarily remain but worn passports allowing their bearers shortcuts from one area of ignorance to another."...And in his interview with Oz, the Israeli novelist and journalist, he is told: "I don't like to be described as an author of fiction. Fiction is a lie. James Joycetook the trouble, if I am not mistaken, to measure the precise distance from Bloom's basement entrance to the street above. In 'Ulysses' it is exact, and yet it is called fiction. But when a journalist writes, 'A cloud of uncertainty hovers . . .' — this is called fact!" The challenge remains a simple one: to write news that stays news.".