New Voices in Translation Studies 18 (2018)
Woodsworth, Judith. (2017) Telling the Story of Translation: Writers who Translate.
London and New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 230pp. ISBN-
(Hardcover), UK £95.00.
In her Telling the Story of Translation, Judith Woodsworth presents a triad of modernists,
namely George Bernard Shaw, Gertrude Stein, and Paul Auster, who also practiced
translation at some point of their writing career. By exhaustive biographical
investigations on the three writers and in-depth analytical survey on their translations and
their comments on the art of translation, the book showcases how each of them
appropriated translation as a pretext for something else that, for Shaw, Stein and Auster,
ultimately serves the purposes of reflecting upon or fashioning their authorial egos. In
order to do so, Woodsworth laboriously draws on a vast spectrum of primary and
secondary materials including not only creative writing, translation and biography, but
also interviews, personal life, travel and so on. Better yet, each of the three writers is
given particular focus: Shaw’s relationship to Siegfried Trebitsch, whom he translated
and also by whom he was translated; Stein’s undertaking of her self-exile to Paris where
she experimented with writing as well as translation; Auster’s translations of French
poetry and his characterization of the translator in his fiction. In addition, Woodsworth
shows us the reception and influence of their translations, perhaps more so of Shaw’s and
Stein’s than Auster’s. The resourceful research enables Woodsworth to convincingly
elucidates the three translator-writers’ respective ambivalent views on the art of
translation—on the one hand, they uphold the value of practicing; on the other, they
eschew translation for whatever reasons each of them found. In the meantime, from the
“Introduction” to the “Epilogue,” the book carries an ambivalent undertone which cannot
be better exemplified by what Woodsworth concludes in the latter that there is no clearcut answer to the question as to whether these writers’ appropriation of translation
“perpetuates the stereotype of translation as a secondary art” or “help[s] to elevate its
status” (169).
The subtitle of the book, “Writers who Translate,” not only reveals case study is the
methodology of writing this book, but also expressly states that the cases selected for this
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book are the writers who also translate, instead of the translators who also write. In other
words, the attributive clause adopted for the subtitle emphasizes this book brings forth a
writer-centered focus, instead of taking a translator-centered approach. In her
“Introduction,” Woodsworth brings up a great parade of the writers who also transalte,
including literary greats such as Chaucer and Dryden, Baudelaire and Valéry, Pound and
Eliot. She argues that among them Shaw, Stein, and Auster “are ones who have achieved
relatively little recognition within the sphere of translation. […] their practice and
theorization have not received the attention they deserve from the translation studies
community” (4−5). This comment may equally be made to a more poetry-focused triad of
English-language (post-)modernists such as Kenneth Rexroth, Robert Bly, and Seamus
Heaney. This is not to pick on Woodsworth’s selection of the writers for study, but
merely to expose translation studies community’s urgent need for such case studies on
translator-writers, from English-language cutlures, as well as from other cultures, such as
Boris Pasternak, Jorge Luis Borges, Xi Chuan, Fernando Pessoa, Czesław Miłosz, Paul
Celan and so on so forth. These case studies that focus on a lesser known sector of the
literary greats’ ourvres would refresh the understanding of their writings and provide with
a new point of entry to their literary worlds. Telling the Story of Translation: Writers
Who Translate is exemplary in this respect. Any scholar interested in Shaw, Stein or
Auster would find this book immensely useful. According to the author, another reason
for forming the Shaw-Stein-Auster triad is that “[e]ach of them either originated in or
moved in multilingual spaces. […] All three have been involved in translating the other
and in ‘translating’ themselves not only literally but in the metaphorical (geographical)
sense” (5). Their movements from one culture to another, some more permanent than
others, invoke theoretical interests in cultural translation. Bhabhaesque third space theory
could have helped generate enlightening discussions on their expatriate experiences,
which in turn could have yielded new insights on the part of theory because of their
discrepancies. Despite icing on the cake, this theoretical potential of cultural translation is
not fully realized but is only briefly mentioned in the chapter about Auster as a metaphor
appropriated by scholars “beyond the borders of translation studies” (150−151).
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The writers who also translate are very visible in many cultures, because, as Woodsworth
also notes: “Writers have always regarded translation as an exercise, as a prelude to or
preparation for original work […]” (5). This observation is certainly true for many
emerging writers who are devoted to producing translations as starting points of their
literary careers. Apart from those more or less ostentatious and pronounced treatments of
translation “as a way of paying tribute to an admired foreign writer, as an infusion of
elements of a foreign culture into their own culture, or as a mechanism for strengthening
personal or collective identity […]” (6), all those, there is always the selfish, taciturn,
even at times stealthy aspiration that the fledging translator’s writing would one day
surpass the poem, story or literary nonfiction piece that she or he is translating. This
thankless work does pay and pay off by sharpening the translator’s skills to write
creatively, especially if she has the heart to pursue a writing career. Even more so when
she seriously mulls over why the translational writing is hers, not anyone else’s, through
which she distinguishes her voice from the myriad voices therein. Not to mention T. S.
Eliot’s (in)famous revelation: “Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets
deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least
something different.” As a poet myself writing both in English and Chinese, I spent
tremendous time and energy on translating poems in both trans-linguistic directions when
I started my own creative career. (And I still do so today!) Translating veteran poets’
works indeed helped my poetic techniques mature. I learned to build overall structures for
poems, make every use of on-and-off rhyme and rhythm count, and concentrate complex
poetic feelings into succinct images, economical words, and laconic syntaxes. Thanks to
the moments of translating the works that I found myself identifying yet disagreeing with
the poets, with their overall ideas of poem, with their versifications and dictions, on
which bases I could speak to them by using my own words to produce responsive poems.
By and by, from such resilient experiences sprang my poetic voice and the conviction
that it could participate in the timeless and simultaneous cosmological dialogue among all
poets. All said, there are also many incidents when literary aspiration plays the least role.
Some literary translations were commissioned works, I did them at the time only because
the employers offered a good rate and I needed the remunerations to buy bread and pay
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rent. This phenomenon is not uncommon among practicing writers living in a capitalist
society, before they can live solely on royalty.
As exhaustively as Telling the Story of Translation: Writers Who Translate has excavated
the printed and verbal materials of Shaw, Stein, and Auster on translation, this lack of
first-hand empirical and psychological wrestle between paralleling practices of creative
writing and translation can be understandably felt between the lines. And this lack leads
to some dubious over-interpretations. For instance, the author cites Auster’s revelation on
his preference in translation strategy: “Whenever I was faced with a choice between
literalness and poetry, I did not hesitate to choose poetry. It seemed more important to me
to give those readers who have no French a true sense of each poem as a poem than to
strive for word-for-word exactness.” Immediately follows her embarkation on the “ageold tradition of distinguishing literal and free translation” where Auster’s “literalness” is
understood to be associated with “word-for-word translation” and his “poetry” with
“sense-for-sense translation” (129−130). While this analysis may appear valid, the cited
lines exhibits poet Auster’s sensibility towards poetry on a deeper level. The passage,
where Auster tries so hard to pivot around, but never quite illuminate, the quintessential
quality of poem, is written in poetolect, a communal habitual speech peculiar to
practicing poets when conversing on their idiosyncratic perceptions and understandings
of poetry. For the poets who uphold the belief that “poems should be translated by poets”
(Auster’s words), there is only but one strategy of translating poetry—translate “each
poem as a poem,” which transcends and encompasses all secondary translation
techniques, whether word-for-word or sense-for-sense. If word-for-word is what it takes
to translate the poem as a poem, Auster or any translator-poets like him would not
hesitate to choose it. Therefore, equating word-for-word with Auster’s “literalness” or
sense-for-sense with his “poetry,” or placing his “poetry” to either side of a binary
opposition, hardly does justice to what Auster means by translating “each poem as a
poem.”
Shaw, Stein, and Auster are unarguably cannonical literary giants, and also literary
tanslators in their own right. Their image as a writer is perceived to be so much stronger
than that as a translator, that the latter can but be considered secondary. This hiearachical
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perception of image is predemtermiend by the selection of study subjects. In the book, no
matter how hard the author tries to enhance the profile of the art of translation by citing
the three writers’ acknowledgements to this craft, its value and function always remain
subservient to literature. As an academic study, this is totally legetimate and the author’s
archival research is indeed admirable. Reading this book, I cannot help thinking beyond
and fiddling with the question as to what might be the way to reverse such hierarchy.
Perhaps, what the translation studies community knows even less about is the translators
who also write, because their creative writing pursuits are simply even less visible than
their names on the cover and spine of the book they translate, which makes it special,
worthwhile, even heroic, to take translator-centered approach and study the translators
who also write. Thus, the art of translation may be studied as “a way of being, away of
knowing,” not merely “a practice, a subject, and a trope in literature” (2).
Chris Song
Centre for Humanities Research
Lingnan University, Hong Kong
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