It's a very interesting essay about the globalization of literature. However, as a translator, I think more about how language is lost in translation. Nabokov's Mashen'ka, already in the title, lost love, tenderness, closeness, and intimacy when he had to translate the title of his first novel by the ordinary, not meaning anything - Mary. It became a level lower in English spoken literature.
Translation gives books curious multiple lives -- often in different timelines. Without easy access to books in Polish after I left the country, I found myself in a difficult position. With envy I followed Polish book reviewers on social media who collected older editions often from well-known but discontinued curated series. Having only just discovered Magda Szabó a few years ago I was envious how much more of her books had been available in Polish translation for years.
She was really big in the 60s, both in the first world and in the second, with German, Polish, and French translations coming out at the same time (not much in English). It slowed down a bit--although she was being translated and especially existing translations re-published--and then she was rediscovered in this century. Her case was much closer to Füst than to Gárdonyi.
And yes--we will write about this experience: that there was so much translation happening among Polish, Czech, Slovak, Hungarian, and then the wall came down and we were free--and all this went away. Now we get Tokarczuk of course, but not much else that is new.
True. The international literary conversation is very different now. Obviously, I don't want to romanticize the pre-1989 decades because of censorship. The German translation still often precedes others for Central and Eastern European books, but English translation plays a more decisive role now. We've become very attuned to what happens in the Anglosphere, too much I think to take proper care of the many other avenues of translation and reading.
I agree--this is not romanticizing the communist decades, only registering that censorship was not the only form of state intervention. Also, the communist investment in cultural production was continuous with the earlier, more nationalistic projects of state sponsorship. Different agenda, but there was a continuity in the belief that the state has a big role to play in promoting national culture.
I think in eastern Europe, the centrality of German coincided with this whole period of emerging nationalism and then communism. (Again, not trying to suggest these were equal.)
One thing that interests me now is what you also mention--what exactly the effect of the German translation is, what is its impact. In the 20th c., English translations rarely had a significant effect on further translations. By the 21st, this changed, but how much exactly is what I want to know. Our project only has data until 2009, so about more recent trends, we won't have anything solid. But one sees what is happening, and you looking at it from a slightly different perspective confirms my own impressions.
I wasn't trying to suggest you were romanticizing that time. I'm sorry if I inadvertently did that! I meant it as more of a note to self -- thinking about those Polish book collectors I envied and how, in reality, getting your hands on those wonderful translations often wasn't so easy!
No you did not suggest that at all--I understood what you meant, I was just agreeing and elaborating, although I did want to make it clear that we don't disagree. (We are terribly anxious and polite people by the way.)
About how easy or how hard to get them: in Hungary at least, books also had much larger print runs before 1990. They were subsidized, especially stuff they considered as "real literature" (crime fiction was more expensive). Many more titles are published now, but the average edition size has gone down to one tenth of what it was around 1980. (!)
So second-hand copies of socialist era books are often widely available, and can easily be found now that most second hand bookstores are on line.
It's a very interesting essay about the globalization of literature. However, as a translator, I think more about how language is lost in translation. Nabokov's Mashen'ka, already in the title, lost love, tenderness, closeness, and intimacy when he had to translate the title of his first novel by the ordinary, not meaning anything - Mary. It became a level lower in English spoken literature.
Translation gives books curious multiple lives -- often in different timelines. Without easy access to books in Polish after I left the country, I found myself in a difficult position. With envy I followed Polish book reviewers on social media who collected older editions often from well-known but discontinued curated series. Having only just discovered Magda Szabó a few years ago I was envious how much more of her books had been available in Polish translation for years.
She was really big in the 60s, both in the first world and in the second, with German, Polish, and French translations coming out at the same time (not much in English). It slowed down a bit--although she was being translated and especially existing translations re-published--and then she was rediscovered in this century. Her case was much closer to Füst than to Gárdonyi.
And yes--we will write about this experience: that there was so much translation happening among Polish, Czech, Slovak, Hungarian, and then the wall came down and we were free--and all this went away. Now we get Tokarczuk of course, but not much else that is new.
True. The international literary conversation is very different now. Obviously, I don't want to romanticize the pre-1989 decades because of censorship. The German translation still often precedes others for Central and Eastern European books, but English translation plays a more decisive role now. We've become very attuned to what happens in the Anglosphere, too much I think to take proper care of the many other avenues of translation and reading.
I agree--this is not romanticizing the communist decades, only registering that censorship was not the only form of state intervention. Also, the communist investment in cultural production was continuous with the earlier, more nationalistic projects of state sponsorship. Different agenda, but there was a continuity in the belief that the state has a big role to play in promoting national culture.
I think in eastern Europe, the centrality of German coincided with this whole period of emerging nationalism and then communism. (Again, not trying to suggest these were equal.)
One thing that interests me now is what you also mention--what exactly the effect of the German translation is, what is its impact. In the 20th c., English translations rarely had a significant effect on further translations. By the 21st, this changed, but how much exactly is what I want to know. Our project only has data until 2009, so about more recent trends, we won't have anything solid. But one sees what is happening, and you looking at it from a slightly different perspective confirms my own impressions.
I wasn't trying to suggest you were romanticizing that time. I'm sorry if I inadvertently did that! I meant it as more of a note to self -- thinking about those Polish book collectors I envied and how, in reality, getting your hands on those wonderful translations often wasn't so easy!
No you did not suggest that at all--I understood what you meant, I was just agreeing and elaborating, although I did want to make it clear that we don't disagree. (We are terribly anxious and polite people by the way.)
About how easy or how hard to get them: in Hungary at least, books also had much larger print runs before 1990. They were subsidized, especially stuff they considered as "real literature" (crime fiction was more expensive). Many more titles are published now, but the average edition size has gone down to one tenth of what it was around 1980. (!)
So second-hand copies of socialist era books are often widely available, and can easily be found now that most second hand bookstores are on line.