Why you should read translated poetry: some thoughts from the StAnza Festival
Today we welcome Annie Rutherford as a guest blogger on Culturethèque.
Annie has worked as a journalist in Edinburgh, Paris and Moscow. She’s editor-in-chief of the literary magazine “Far Off Places”. She writes, edits, translates, and promotes independent theatre in Scotland and Germany. These days, most of her waking hours are consumed by the organisation of StAnza, Scotland’s international poetry festival. We thank her for taking the time to write for our blog.
You can follow her on Twitter @slender_means
Translated fiction – that often endangered beast – has enjoyed something of a renaissance in the last few years. Elena Ferrante’s runaway success followed hot on the heels of the craze for all things Scandinavian, particularly anything which started with a brutal or bloody murder. Bookshops and publishers are beginning to sit up and take note of the more internationally minded prizes, with Han Kang and Patrick Modiano becoming – if not exactly household names – familiar fixtures in book store window displays.
Poetry in translation, though, doesn’t have it quite so rosy. This is partly due to the admittedly more niche position of poetry itself in the literary market, relegated to the shelves between literary criticism and erotica. Added to that is the tricky nature of translated poetry itself. If you’re reading a novel principally for plot, mediation through a translator might not seem particularly bothersome. In a genre where form is of utmost importance, however, the question of what a translator adds or takes away rears a remarkably thorny head. The same questions crop up again and again at panel discussions on translation.
What should a translator focus on: content or form? Is it possible to reproduce the feel of the original? Should the translator be inaudible, or is she a co-creator? And never quite spoken out loud: would it not be (whisper it) easier to stick to English-language poetry, where we at least know what we’re at?
The final question, at least, has a simple answer: no.
Translation brings exciting creative possibilities to any poem, allowing it to unfold into ever new meanings. And all art thrives on the kind of variety which can only come with a vibrant exchange between countries. Once upon a time that now quintessentially English form, the sonnet, emerged in our language thanks to translation from the Italian. Nowadays, French poetry is typically sound-based. The young German generation of poets favour squat rectangular stanzas packed with references and allusions. To be able to develop in any exciting kind of way our own often lyric poetry has to have the chance to meet these neighbours. To bounce off them, borrow from them, brush up against them.
Beyond all that, the attempt to listen to what people beyond borders and in other countries are saying and what hopes, dreams and fears make up their lives is of vital importance, now more than ever. The art form in which the ancients once immortalised both love and war and which we inevitably turn to when we are at our happiest or our most miserable, when we are fervently in love or have had our hopes shattered plays a fundamental part in this. In Kazuo Ishiguro’s heart-wrenching novel Never Let Me Go, the artworks produced by children denounced as ‘other’ are used to demonstrate their humanity. In our no less dystopian world, the poetry of the Syrian-born, Paris-fled Maram al Massri, gives the unseen other a face we can no longer ignore.
At StAnza, Scotland’s international poetry festival, we’ve always shone a spotlight on poetry which has had to travel to reach us. This year, we’re inviting poets from countries as far flung as South Africa and Australia to join us and we’ll be celebrating French poetry in particular, through our focus entitled "La Nouvelle Alliance." With a translation residency bringing together Francophone and Scottish poets to collaboratively translate each other’s words and create new work, we’re looking forward to seeing what happens when Scottish poetry meets an auld neighbour. And from an audio-installation of contemporary French poetry to readings with poets and translators side by side, we’ll be interweaving form and content to enjoy the best of both.
So if you’re anywhere near St Andrews in March, come along and join us. Find yourself falling for Sabine Macher’s ever enchanting performance practice or intrigued by the intricate verse of Jean Portante. We’ll be live webcasting some events for those who can’t join us – including a panel discussion on translation from French on Sunday 5 March.
And otherwise, seek out your nearest bookshop, find the poetry section, and choose a translated poet to be your new best friend.
You might just be surprised.
Info & links:
StAnza, Scotland’s international poetry festival, takes place from 1 – 5 March in St Andrews. The full programme of events and more information can be found at www.stanzapoetry.org.
You can follow the festival on Twitter @StAnzaPoetry
To read an interview of Eleanor Livingstone, director of StAnza, by Mumblewords.net, click here.
On Culturethèque : our blog post on "The Auld Alliance in action: French writers in Edinburgh"