Recenzija – kritikos alfa

LIETUVIŲ KALBOS SANDAROS TYRINĖJIMAI LIETUVIŲ KALBOTYROS KLAUSIMAI, XXVI (1987) KAZIMERAS AMBRASAS-SASNAVA REVIEW – THE ALPHA OF CRITICISM In correcting the shortcomings of language, J. Balčikonis has more than once addressed various deficiencies in translations. For example, reviewing L. Valkūnas’s book translated from Greek1, he takes a good many lexical awkwardnesses, case errors, and other mistakes to task2. More than once, too, the author of this article himself had to blush and fidget in his chair as if sitting on a bed of coals, when the professor, already confined to his sickbed by a serious illness, would take up a book I had translated and calmly, persuasively, and slowly cross out words, expressions, and sentences that did not suit his taste, the spirit of the language, or the requirements of the mother tongue3. I did not dare utter even a word of disagreement to this exacting reviewer—nodding my head, I could only agree with everything. The professor’s constant attention not only to original writing but also to translated works prompted me to take a closer look at reviews of our translated books, which today are sometimes (and how many translated works, even excellent ones, never receive even such an assessment!) the only opportunity to encounter this kind of critical writing in print. Not long ago, R. Gamzatov wrote: “A translation cannot be created by hands alone, without soul or heart; it requires sincerity and individuality”4. What, then, should we say about works of criticism, and first and foremost about a review? Here, twice as much care, sincerity, and individuality are needed. After all, in a sense, what is being assessed is not the work of one person but of several participants in the communication process—the author, translator, editor, and others. So, in fact, what is a review of our translated books like? Translated literature can be analyzed and evaluated in various ways. A scholar or critic may examine it from a literary or purely linguistic, semiotic, or structural perspective. An interesting critical analysis could even take a philosophical approach: has the philosophical conception, for instance, been preserved5? A literary one: have the original’s images, the characters’ traits, the work’s overall mood, the author’s individual style, and his outlook on the world been conveyed accurately6? Every reviewer can find such angles of assessment as are most relevant, in his view, to a given translation, wh- 1 Longas. Dafnis ir Chlojė / Iš graikų k. vertė L. Valkūnas. — V., 1958. — 191 p. 2 Balčikonis J. Rinktiniai raštai. — V., 1978, t. 1, p. 331—332. 3 J. Balčikonis particularly carefully and conscientiously underlined in pencil, and himself pointed out aloud, many of the linguistic “bits and pieces” in Dž. Darelo’s book “Perkrautas laivas” (Translated by K. Ambrasas. — V., 1967). It is a pity I did not write down those corrections at the time and somehow misplaced the book he had given me, with the corrections in it. They would now be an invaluable treasure and a vivid reminder of an exacting reviewer. 4 Тамзатов Р. Высокие звезды. — Литературная газета, 1983, 24 авг. 5 Prustas M. Prarasto laiko beieškant. Svano pusėje. — V., 1979. 6 Dantė A. Dieviškoji komedija. Skaistykla. — V., 1970. 83 ich are most relevant, in his view, to a given translation. That is why one is especially keen to look at the writings of those who are indeed prepared for such work. In the review “From the Origins to the Present Day”7, the reader is introduced to American short stories8. The aim here was to highlight, as fully and objectively as possible, the selection principles followed by the collection’s compiler, L. Vanagienė; to consider the translated stories’ ideological and thematic purpose in the broader context of American literature; and to bring out their essential features. Yet the quality of the translation and their artistic value are not mentioned at all. J. Kunčinas writes about a book translated by T. Četrauskas9. Of its 186 lines, only five are devoted to the translation: “All that remains to be said is that translator T. Četrauskas handled the challenging translation well, having to contend with a variety of styles, differentiated vocabulary, and extensive terminology.” Indeed, some readers may be interested to learn a few facts about the novel’s author, a brief account of the work, the characters’ traits, and the work’s ideological significance. The writers of these lines will also satisfy those readers who, several decades ago, wrote in “Literatūra ir menas”: “Not one of the reviews of new translated books published in ‘Pergalė’ deepened or broadened the impressions we ordinary readers gained directly from reading the book. We learned almost nothing about the author, the work’s place in Soviet literature, or the weight of the book’s artistic achievements. It is quite clear that neither the editorial office nor the reviewers are concerned with offering a deeper, more serious analysis of a new translated book. These reviews, written in a cold, indifferent tone and failing to reveal even the book’s contents, show that writing about translated books is regarded by the journal’s editorial office as a third-rate duty”10. In what direction have reviews of this kind developed over the past two or three decades? Reviewing Latvian short stories11, the reviewer writes: “what of that initial expectation—was it fulfilled and vindicated, did you feel comfortably and wisely guided through Latvia, with its thoughts, people, and states of being, or were you challenged from a professional point of view?”12 These questions are explored over nearly three pages of the journal. If the footnote at the bottom of the page did not give the publisher and year of publication, one might think this was an original book, since the author does not even mention the word “translation.” Latvian and Lithuanian works, themes, and problems are compared; more interesting ideas are emphasized, the strengths and weaknesses of the selection are noted, and the importance of the work that has entered Lithuanian literature is summed up in a few words. Today, Lithuanian periodicals seem more or less to differentiate their areas of activity: “Naujos knygos” promotes and advertises the output of our publishing houses; “Literatūra ir menas” and “Pergalė” consider it from a thematic, ideological, and critical perspective; and translated books may only occasionally receive some sort of linguistic “combing-through” in “Mūsų kalba.” 7 Plg. Kuosaitė-Jašinskienė E. Nuo ištakų ligi nūdienos. – Pergalė, 1981, Nr. 7, p. 176–178. 8 Amerikiečių novelės. – V., 1980, 520 p. 9 Kunčinas J. Tarp realybės ir fikcijos. – Pergalė, 1981, Nr. 3, p. 178–179 (Rec.: Andersas A. Vinterspėltas. – V., 1980, 419 p.). 10 Krasauskas V., Jurevičiūtė J. Rimtą recenziją verstinei knygai. – Literatūra ir menas, 1950, gruod. 10. 11 Žaliosios iliuzijų burės. – V., 1983, 517 p. 12 Aputis J. Amalas Latvijos pusėje. – Pergalė, 1983, Nr. 8, p. 182–184. 84 However, no newspaper or journal devotes attention to the sustained, critical, objective, well-deserved, and substantive evaluation of translations. Thus, having now read a book of criticism on original literature, one involuntarily compares it with a review of translated books. Analyzing literary processes and the creative turns of original works brings forth interesting premises, meaningful comparisons, perceptive and bold conclusions, clear indicators of literary growth, the essential features of artistic exploration, freshness in abstraction and generalization, and convincing synthesis and analytical concision. After all, it is precisely here that the breadth of a reviewer’s horizons, the persuasiveness of their own opinion, their intellect, and so on come to light.13 The approach to a translated book is entirely different: a pinch of biographical facts, a small section on the plot, a piece on the characters’ traits and the composition, and, if we add the work’s place in literary development, its ideological and artistic content, or a handful of observations on the interaction of literary relations, that is the full range of the review. All this is, of course, necessary, perhaps even interesting to many, but the same things should not be repeated year after year, decade after decade. In fact, reviews worthy of their purpose and aim do appear. One such example is J. Lebedys’s discussion of the translation of Donelaitis’s “The Seasons” into German14. It stands out from the customary bounds of the traditional, standard review for its specificity and substance. Here the history of the work’s translation is recounted briefly but precisely; earlier translations of “The Seasons” are mentioned and objectively assessed; and the translator’s theoretical approach to translation and its principles is set out. “Artistry and creativity, alongside accuracy, are Budenzig’s foremost aspiration,” the reviewer acknowledges. He clearly emphasizes the problem of adequacy: not a single line has been omitted; the national character of the original and the author’s individuality have been preserved; many vivid verbs have been retained; the ideological and thematic content and the characterizations of the landowners have been conveyed quite perfectly, as have the most characteristic features of Donelaitis’s language. Nor are the essential shortcomings forgotten: the original’s lyricism has not been preserved; there are some prosodic awkwardnesses, inaccuracies in hyperbole and comparisons, and, especially, lexical, semantic, proofreading, and other errors. This is, to be sure, not the ideal review, but it is already a serious assessment of a translated book, comparable in value to another similar review of the translation of “Faust”15. It begins not with the Lithuanian Faust’s journey, but with the Latvian Faust’s. It is immediately clear that the reviewer’s aim is not merely to satisfy a curious reader in passing, but to look at this work more broadly: to show why Goethe’s work crossed our threshold much later than it did in Latvian, Russian, Ukrainian, Finnish, Armenian, Georgian, Serbian, and other languages. The first attempts at translation, critical opinions, and the influence of the German poet’s work on Lithuanian literature and authors are carefully surveyed; even the reasons why the translator A. Churginas’s vast professional work over several decades was not dared to be assessed objectively are indicated. V. Kubilius looks at the translation in terms of its problems. The reviewer is not content with one-sided assessments of the translator’s work, but considers the translation in light of the scope of A. Churginas’s original poetic oeuvre, its moods, and the range of the lyrical “I”’s experiences. 13 Zalatorius A. Menant Borutos mįslę. — Pergalė, 1981, Nr. 4, p. 167–171; Girdzi-jauskas J. Brandi teorinė mintis. — Pergalė, 1981, Nr. 6, p. 167–171. 14 Lebedys J. Naujas K. Donelaičio „Metų“ vertimas į vokiečių kalbą. — Pergalė, 1966 Nr. 10, p. 120–129; Lituanistikos baruose. — V., 1972, p. 48–61. 15 Kubilius V. „Faustas“ keliauja į Lietuvą. — Pergalė, 1980, Nr. 3, p. 133–154; Susitikimas su J. V. Gėte. — Kn.: Lietuvių literatūra ir pasaulinės literatūros procesas. V., 1983, p. 220–256. 85 This is one of the most fruitful, yet also most difficult, methods of translation analysis, one not often encountered in reviews or even monographs¹⁶. Taking into account A. Churginas’s earlier translations, V. Kubilius aptly and judiciously evaluates work carried out with professionalism: although it was accomplished with great experience, phenomenal memory, and a gifted personality, the translator did not always succeed in preserving the characters’ individual ways of thinking or conveying the characters’ psychology and intellectual tension; in places, Mephistopheles’s roughness is overemphasized, while a boisterous word “shakes” Margarita’s gentleness. In the reviewer’s opinion, even the principal leitmotifs of the philosophical work depart from their canonical shores—in the Lithuanian “Faust,” the spontaneity, boldness, and simplicity of spoken German are gone. The translation bears the imprint of the poetics of classicism and the mindset of modern European lyric poetry. I. Kostkevičiūtė has written a review¹⁷ that is distinctive, lively, and at the same time insightful in its comparison of the works of two great poetic personalities—Adomas Mickevičius and V. Mykolaitis-Putinas. A reviewer of sensitive soul and agile mind, she managed to present, on a single page of a weekly, the fusion of the creative interaction between two poetic personalities from the perspective of translation. There is no shortage here of examples, discussion of the problem of adequacy, or concrete analysis of how successfully Putinas translated Mickevičius’s works. Probably few are capable of analyzing and evaluating the work of great talents with such subtlety, literary sensibility, sensitivity, and, at the same time, prudent scholarly restraint. Perhaps not everyone will succeed in writing as J. Lebedys, V. Kubilius, or I. Kostkevičiūtė did. But first of all, one should remember that the Latin word recensio means evaluation, review, examination. Thus, a review should be concerned above all not with superficial statements and commentary, but with evaluation and critical judgment. Critical work in this genre ought to be made considerably more varied. We should not adhere to the tiresome, formulaic expressions and uncritical criteria that have become established over so many years and march triumphantly through the pages of weeklies and journals. As the Czech professor and translator of our literature into Czech, E. Parolekas, suggests, it would be useful to consider whether the translator has determined “what aesthetic and ethical assessments of modeled reality we find in the author’s work. What does the author love and hate, what does the author exalt as beauty and what does the author aesthetically discredit, and toward what is the author indifferent? Sometimes the author comments and speaks openly about their attitude, but most often does so indirectly, through allusions”¹⁸. Some call this modeled reality the key to the work, others its mood, and still others its spirit. Essentially, as the aforementioned Czech scholar points out, to sense and understand the author’s attitude toward reality, there is no need to study carefully the writer’s or poet’s manuscripts, memoirs, letters, or other archival materials. These signals can be found in the work itself: various epithets, agreeing and non-agreeing attributes, recurring leitmotifs, and many other details—inner emotional, moral, and aesthetic signals of evaluation. 16 Егиазарян А. Поэт и перевод. – Ереван, 1979. 17 Kostkevičiūtė I. Putinas ir Adomas Mickevičius. – Literatūra ir menas, 1969 rugpj. 23.(Rec.:) Mykolaitis-Putinas V. Raštai. – V., 1968, t. 9. 18 Parolekas E. Pasaulio meninio modelio evokacija vertime (Apie tai, kas iš tikrųjų verčiama). – Pergalė, 1981, Nr. 24, p. 148–157. 86 shows how the author viewed the surroundings, characters, events, and other aspects of the reality depicted in his work. J. Lebedys’s review offers just such an assessment: “Budenzigas recreates, down to the finest nuances, the folk worldview of the poem, and its treatment of people, surroundings, and nature. What is condemned and disparaged in the original, and what is extolled, is likewise condemned and extolled in the translation, with an effort to preserve the same measure, degree, and nuance”19. If a translator were to translate V. Jasukaitytė’s novella “Ballad about the Woman Standing on the Bridge”20 into German, English, Spanish, or another language, it would be worth reading it carefully and sensing its beloved recurring leitmotifs: “I am happy. I am happy, I am happy, and once again I can repeat: I am happy.” These repetitions thus testify that the writer, having escaped everyday life, depicts reality romantically, in certain abstract outbursts. Her understanding of the world is not ordinary, as if detached from boredom and the everyday. Here, then, lies the specific task for the translator, and the master key to the review for the critic. To avoid having to define what a review of a translated book should be like today, it is worth recalling once again the words of V. Krasauskas and V. Jurevičiūtė: “There is a need for a serious review of a translated book that would reveal the book’s ideological content, the work’s significance, and the qualities of its thought. We need a review written in an impassioned style and in pure language; we need an artistic review.” Here, we should agree with A. Merkytė, who, wishing to show how books should not be reviewed, was even compelled to write an entire article about a single review—an anti-review21. One noteworthy point is raised here: “A review is perhaps not only a display of erudition, ingenious quotations, and a traditional reminder of translation studies, but also a serious approach to the original and translated texts, their concrete analysis, and a sincere effort to raise the overall standard of our translations.” Thus, if we want our translators’ work to be properly and objectively assessed, editorial offices would do well not only to select reviewers carefully, but also to train and educate them; to hold review competitions; to organize broader discussions in the press; and to investigate sociologically, using special questionnaires, which reviews are most needed, most widely read, and most relevant to today’s needs. REVIEW—THE ALPHA OF CRITICISM Abstract This article attempts to assess the state of reviews of translated books. Drawing on a study of articles by J. Lebedkis, V. Kubilius, I. Kostkevičiūtė, and others, it sets out expectations for other articles published in periodicals, which lack variety and scholarly rigor. The article proposes substantially improving the quality of published reviews, organizing a competition for the best review of a translation, and examining the relevance of reviews and other issues from a sociological perspective. 19Lebedys J. A new translation of K. Donelaitis’s “The Seasons” into German. — In: In the fields of Lithuanian studies, pp. 50–51. 20 Jasukaitytė V. Baladė apie stovinčiąją ant tilto. — Pergalė, 1981, Nr. 6, p. 12—57. 21 Petrauskas V. Prusto pusėje. — Pergalė, 1981, Nr. 4, p. 126—142. 22Merkytė A. The Road to Proust. — Pergalė, 1981, No. 10, pp. 150–160. 87