7.  Chapter 7: The Translation of Philosophical, Literary Prose and the Problem of Translating Dialect

Venuti (1998) is one of the few recent theorists to tackle directly the problem of philosophy translation to which he devotes a whole chapter in his book The Scandals of Translation. His approach is very much from that of a literary stylist rather than from the perspective of a philosopher, but he makes a valuable contribution by highlighting the gross neglect philosophical translation has suffered:

In philosophical research widespread dependence on translated texts coincides with neglect of their translated status, a general failure to take into account the differences introduced by the fact of translation. The problem is perhaps most glaring in Anglo-American cultures, where native philosophical traditions from empiricism to logical semantics have privileged language as communication and therefore imagined the transparency of the translated text. (Venuti 1998: 106)

This neglect is also particularly marked in the literature concerning the translation of the philosophical passages in Thomas Mann’s oeuvre. Both Hellmann’ s (1992) study of the French translation of Der Zauberberg and Hayes’ study of Der Tod in Venedig make no reference to the difficulties of translating philosophy or philosophical literary prose.⁴⁶

Venuti (1998) sees the main problem as the decision to establish how far a text should be domesticated (or to Newmark’s terminology how communicative a translation should be) and how far a text should remain close to the original even at the expense of the idiom of the target language (i.e. a foreignising text). He rightly criticises the philosophers for having a naive view of transparency by simply referring back to the argumentation in the source text. Following more or less directly from the previous quotation, he denounces both the philosophers’ neglect of translational problems and their eagerness to domesticate according to their own norms:

This is never more true than on the rare occasions when a translation is actually noticed in reviews and studies: philosophers assume that transparency is an attainable ideal by evaluating the accuracy of the translation as a correspondence to the foreign text, chastising the translator [page 145↓]for missing the foreign philosopher’s intention or the full significance of the foreign philosophical terms. (Venuti 1998: 106)

In the context of the strategic approach, it is interesting that he devotes a section of this chapter to the theme of Strategies of Philosophical Translation, but it is, however, disappointing that he identifies only the two strategies already alluded to, i.e. the choice either to domesticate or not to domesticate:

The translator’s responsibility is not just twofold, both foreign and domestic, but split into two opposing obligations: to establish a lexicographical equivalence for a conceptually dense text, while intelligibly maintaining its foreignness to domestic readerships. (Venuti 1998: 115. My emphasis.)

It is also rather disappointing that there is a regression to equivalence strategies as this reverts to the linguists’ approach of the sixties and seventies, which he had rejected in his first chapter on the limitation of linguistics (Venuti 1998: 21). The equivalence theories lead to the following unproductive circularity: to assume that to establish “lexicographical equivalence” is all that is needed is to beg the question of difficulty in philosophical translation. Many philosophical concoctions have no “immediately insertible equivalents”. There is no better example to illustrate this phenomenon than Thomas Mann’s own philosophical concoctions such as the following few typical listed by Hayes from Der Tod in Venedig:

das Tapfer-Sittliche, das Amtlich-Erzieherische, das Mustergültig-Feststehende, das Geschliffen-Herkömmliche, das Göttlich-Nichtsagende, das Nebelhaft-Grenzenlose und Verheißungsvoll-Ungeheuere. (Hayes 1974: 139)

Simply to recommend that equivalents should be substituted for the above examples is, in effect, to offer no strategy at all. Hayes recognises the syntactical difficulties involved in translating these compounds, which are formidable even before the translator has to embark on the even more difficult semantic aspects:

For the most part these are adjectival nouns: and this circumstance presents an immediate difficulty, because an attempt to reproduce them formally at every occurrence will very probably result in woodenness. The adjectival noun, so common in German, makes rather stiff sounding English [. . .] There is a subtle difference (at least Thomas Mann must have thought so) between “das Verheißungsvoll-Ungeheure” and “das verheißungsvoll[e] Ungeheure”; the second expression lacks the vibrant quality of the first. (Hayes 1974: 140)

This raises the central question as to what comprises a successful philosophical translation. The first point to be made in this context is that philosophy is not a homogeneous activity and different strategies will be needed for different kinds of philosophy. At the extreme ends of the philosophical spectrum, there is the [page 146↓]mathematically based philosophy in a work such as Gottlob Frege’s Begriffsschrift on the one hand, or an abstract, idiosyncratic and creative work such as Jacques Derrida’s De la grammatologie or Nietzsche’s Also Sprach Zarathustra on the other. For the practical translator, the approach is clear: i.e. Frege would be translated in a scientific mathematical way so that the translator’s grasp of mathematical logic is as important as his or her grasp of German. The translator needs to be familiar with the technical terminology in both languages. This would apply particularly to a work such as Frege’s Über Sinn und Bedeutung in which the terms Sinn and Bedeutung would have to be invariantly translated as sense and reference respectively as these are fixed terms in the English philosophical tradition. At the other extreme, a good literary translator with perhaps only a very limited knowledge of philosophy but with a very wide culture in both the source and target languages may well cope with Nietzsche.

Some philosophers lie between the two extremes such as Ludwig Wittgenstein where both a good literary style and a clear grasp of mathematical logic may well be prerequisites for such an undertaking. Venuti embarks on an interesting, but brief analysis of Anscombe’s (1963) translation Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Investigations. His examples support his thesis that her translation is overdomesticated.

Hence, no English translation can ever simply communicate Wittgenstein’s German text without simultaneously inscribing it with English-language forms that destabilize and reconstitute his own philosophy.

Consider a typical excerpt from Anscombe’s version:

Das Benennen erscheint als eine seltsame Verbindung eines Wortes mit einem Gegenstand. - [. .] Denn die philosophischen Probleme entstehen, wenn die Sprache feiert.

Naming appears as a queer connection of a word with an object. [. . .] For philosophical problems arise when language goes on holiday.

The translation is cast mostly in a plain register of the standard dialect of English, but the orthography is British, and Anscombe draws noticeably on British colloquialisms: [. . .] the use of “holiday” and “queer” where American English would substitute “vacation” (or “day off”) and “strange”. (Venuti 1998: 108-109)

If Venuti’s trivial argument concerning the Atlantic divide is ignored, he does make a valid point concerning what he later describes as “unusual” renderings in Anscombe’s version. The adjective queer can be described as overtranslation (with the force of wunderlich in German) and the idea of language going on holiday is far too active an image conjuring up a picture of language packing a trunk and setting off for the seaside. A disappointing aspect of Venuti’s contribution on the translation of [page 147↓]philosophy is that he treats philosophy as another kind of literary writing without examining the crucial features of philosophical dialogue. For example, much of philosophical discourse involves argument or, more precisely, argumentation which, in turn, implies logical form. It is imperative to the philosopher that this form is clearly transposed by the translator. It will be shown in the example to be analysed in this chapter that Thomas Mann has a very clear argumentation even though it is often embedded in a dense literary text. One strategy is to convert the relevant passage into logical form before embarking on a translation, but first it is necessary to return to the translations in question.

That a translator should acquire a clear grasp of the main philosophical ideas and themes of the author s/he is translating before embarking on a translation should be obvious and uncontroversial, but in Lowe-Porter’s version, it will be shown that this was not the case.

The following strategy is suggested as one of many possible approaches, but all valid strategies are likely to display similar features: there must be an initial, hermeneutic stage or simply ‘decoding’ depending on the difficulty of the text in question. The text is analysed in the context of the author’s ideas or, in this case, in the context of Mann’s various themes and motifs. There should be a clear holistic understanding of the argument, even if this is only a subjective impression, before embarking on the encoding stage. The translator must attempt to interpret the text or else the general sense would remain obscure. (Even a false interpretation is, to a certain extent, preferable to a garbled version. With a clear, but false interpretation, the mistake can easily be remedied after discussion with the good practice of consulting experts in the relevant field.)

In Tonio Kröger, the whole of Chapter IV is devoted to a philosophical dialogue (or more accurately, monologue) on the nature and origin of art as well as the nature and character of the artist. The disquisition involves a setting up of antinomies such as Bürger versus Künstler, Natur versus Kunst and Geist versus Leben. Tonio’s argumentation shows how these themes hitherto thought to be complementary are irreconcilable opposites for the contemporary artist of his time. This is felt acutely in his own case because through his background he feels to be as [page 148↓]much Bürger as Künstler and so, he suffers greatly from his conflicting identities. It is just as important for the translator as well as for the teacher of literature that the clear argumentation behind these themes should be explicated.

Der Tod in Venedig has, however, even more ‘philosophical’ passages than Tonio Kröger. In this work, the argumentation is brought forward so that the ‘Bürger-Künstler’ Gustav von Aschenbach seems to have managed to cope with the antinomies which caused the conflict in Tonio Kröger. However, a new and fatal situation emerges which results in his death. This time key themes are linked together as a chain with an inevitable and fatal concatenation. The - art → eros → decadence → disease → death – argument, to which reference has already been discussed in 3.3 can be summarised as follows: the spiritual appeal of art is beauty, but beauty works through the senses and is thus linked to sensuousness and sensuality. The cultivation of sensuality leads to sexuality which in turn leads to ‘sin’ and ‘sin’ leads to disease and death; thus the artist is doomed by his or her love of beauty from the start. Aschenbach had tried to resist the inevitability of this logic by adopting a Bürger existence based on hard work, discipline and the defence of morality. However, as is too well known to relate once again here, his brief excursion into a more relaxed modus vivendi lets him fall prey to the inevitable logic outlined above. It is important that the translator should keep this argument explicit and clear throughout the novella. Mann’s German style which, as has been seen in Chapter IV, can be opaque, spells out the message with transparent clarity. The explicit philosophical dialogues based on Plato’s Gastmahl and Phaidros as translated by Kaßner (1903) are further ‘translated’ by Thomas Mann into poetic prose which, at the same time, underline his own philosophical argument with utmost clarity as analysed by Häfele and Stammel (1992). One brief extract shows how closely Thomas Mann follows the philosophical dialogue which is ‘translated’ into poetic prose:

Sokrates: Nur die Schönheit ist zugleich sichtbar und liebenswürdig, beides. [. . .] Denn der Freund ist göttlicher als der Geliebte. Der Freund trägt den Gott in sich. (Platon 1903: 6)

Thomas Mann: Denn die Schönheit, mein Phaidros, nur sie ist liebenswürdig und sichtbar zugleich. [. . .] dies, daß der Liebende göttlicher sei als der Geliebte, will in jenem der Gott sei, nicht aber im andern. (Mann 1977: 374)

If we look at Mann as a ‘translator’ of philosophy, he is a very effective interpreter because he does not only rewrite Kaßner’s Plato in an even more poetic form but he also explicates the argument to make this theme transparent. The argument is further [page 149↓]translated into action by the downfall of his protagonist. The incidents in the novella constantly illustrate these themes in both a vivid and concrete way.

It will be seen that Luke generally translates the dialectic of the novella with sufficient clarity despite some philosophically opaque passages, one of which will be subjected to close analysis and translation in 7.3. His introduction to his version of Mann’s short stories is cogently argued as is to be expected from a German scholar whereas he rightly refers to Lowe-Porter’s versions as “garbled”. Chapter IV of Tonio Kröger, which contains the philosophical monologue, will not be subjected to detailed analysis because it can be seen from Appendix I that there is an enormous density of gross errors in Lowe-Porter’s version and that the sense is so grossly distorted at even the most elementary level of surface meaning that a philosophical analysis of this chapter would be rendered superfluous. Instead, a difficult philosophical passage will be taken from Der Tod in Venedig where the mistakes are less gross and where the meaning is distorted in a more subtle way. Even in this passage, however, there are some gross mistakes such as her translation of the noun Wucht as fury because of confusion between Wucht and Wut. Luke’s version, though more accurate, is also not always clear. Suggested translations will be offered as in Chapter 4.6.1-4.6.2.

The passage for analysis, however, is taken from Chapter II of Der Tod in Venedig and has been chosen because the theme is a ‘philosophical’ continuation from the literary extract discussed in detail in Chapter V and so, acts as a further commentary on the same themes. It is also a typically condensed text where the meaning is not always immediately apparent and where a confused version can produce disastrous results. These more difficult passages in Mann’s oeuvre are often the less popular and thus the less analysed passages on account of their initial difficulty. This is particularly the case in the longer works such as in Der Zauberberg where they could, at times, be regarded as too philosophical for what is essentially a literary work. Mann’s philosophising passages have a surface obscurity and a surface difficulty, but once this has been penetrated, they do not pose translation difficulties comparable to the stylistic aspects discussed in the previous chapter. However, as the surface difficulties are sufficiently daunting even for an educated German reader, it is [page 150↓]all the more important to have a clear translation for the non-native reader. Here, a competent translator can provide a useful service by acting as an interpreter and clarifier. On the other hand, a “garbled” version can only have disastrous results because what was difficult in the original becomes impossible in the confused translation and what was at the limits of comprehensibility becomes totally meaningless. The Luke and Lowe-Porter versions, which will be compared with each other and with other possible strategies, illustrate this point. All seven versions are printed in full at the end of the dissertation in Appendix III for purposes of comparison. Version I is Lowe-Porter’s translation, Version II is Luke’s, Version III is offered as semantic translation, IV is a suggested communicative translation, V is the first translation of Der Tod in Venedig by Kenneth Burke of 1929 and which remains unchanged in the 1971 reprint, VI is the 1993 translation by Koelb and Version VII is the most recent translation of this work (Chase: 1999). It would be tempting to analyse all seven versions, but this would be beyond the scope of the study. They are presented, however, for further comparison to show how varied translations can be, but at the same time, how all the five published versions are well within the parameters of what has been defined as academic translation. All fail at the poetic level, but all except for Lowe-Porter’s version, succeed at the basic level of transfer of information, and so could be classified as adequate. Version III attempts to capture something of Thomas Mann’s style, but still remains a pale reflection. There is, however, very little of Thomas Mann’s style in the other five versions. Version IV aims at readability and, to a large extent, succeeds, though at the expense of closeness to the text. However, in this version, the philosophical argument is transparent. The other three versions have a lack-lustre quality in English, no doubt contributing to the reputation of Thomas Mann as being pompous, dull and heavy. Little of the irony is conveyed in all the versions except, possibly, in III, but the irony is so subtle in this paragraph that even a native reader could be forgiven for missing this element. The source text passage will now be quoted in full:

Aber es scheint, daß gegen nichts ein edler und tüchtiger Geist sich rascher, sich gründlicher abstumpft als gegen den scharfen und bitteren Reiz der Erkenntnis; und gewiß ist, daß die schwermütig gewissenhafteste Gründlichkeit des Jünglings Seichtheit bedeutet im Vergleich mit dem tiefen Entschlusse des Meister gewordenen Mannes, das Wissen zu leugnen, es abzulehnen, erhobenen Hauptes darüber hinwegzugehen, sofern es den Willen, die Tat, das Gefühl und selbst die Leidenschaft im geringsten zu lähmen, zu entmutigen, zu entwürdigen geeignet ist. Wie wäre die berühmte Erzählung vom ‘Elenden’ wohl anders zu deuten denn als [page 151↓]Ausbruch des Ekels gegen den unanständigen Psychologismus der Zeit, verkörpert in der Figur jenes weichen und albernen Halbschurken, der sich ein Schicksal erschleicht, indem er sein Weib, aus Ohnmacht, aus Lasterhaftigkeit, aus ethischer Velleität, in die Arme eines Unbärtigen treibt und aus Tiefe Nichtswürdigkeiten begehen zu dürfen glaubt? Die Wucht des Wortes, mit welcher hier das Verworfene verworfen wurde, verkündete die Abkehr von allem moralischen Zweifelsinn, von jeder Sympathie mit dem Abgrund, die Absage an die Laxheit des Mitleidssatzes, daß alles verstehen alles verzeihen heiße, und was sich hier vorbereitete, ja schon vollzog, war jenes ‘Wunder der wiedergeborenen Unbefangenheit,’ auf welches ein wenig später in einem der Dialoge des Autors ausdrücklich und nicht ohne geheimnisvolle Betonung die Rede kam. Seltsame Zusammenhänge! War es eine geistige Folge dieser ‘Wiedergeburt’, dieser neuen Würde und Strenge, daß man um dieselbe Zeit ein fast übermäßiges Erstarken seines Schönheitssinnes beobachtete, jene adelige Reinheit, Einfachheit und Ebenmäßigkeit der Formgebung, welche seinen Produkten fortan ein so sinnfälliges, ja gewolltes Gepräge der Meisterlichkeit und Klassizität verlieh? Aber moralische Entschlossenheit jenseits des Wissens, der auflösenden und hemmenden Erkenntnis - bedeutet sie nicht wiederum eine Vereinfachung, eine sittliche Vereinfältigung der Welt und der Seele und also auch ein Erstarken zum Bösen, Verbotenen, zum sittlich Unmöglichen? Und hat Form nicht zweierlei Gesicht? Ist sie nicht sittlich und unsittlich zugleich - sittlich als Ergebnis und Ausdruck der Zucht, unsittlich aber und selbst widersittlich, sofern sie von Natur eine moralische Gleichgültigkeit in sich schließt, ja wesentlich bestrebt ist, das Moralische unter ihr stolzes und unumschränktes Zepter zu beugen? (Mann 1977: 17-18)

The text could be interpreted as follows: Mann’s basic point is that Aschenbach attempted to reintroduce morality into the twentieth century world of high art and literature. His work is a rejection of the ‘satanic’ view of art as is sometimes portrayed in French Symbolist poets such as Baudelaire or in the Nietzschean view of art as expressed in works such as Jenseits von Gut und Böse in which, at least, conventional morality is rejected. Aschenbach (and Mann himself) show that, despite ‘Nietzschean insights’ beyond good and evil, the artist is still a member of society and that the choice for ‘bourgeois’ morality is not a step towards mediocrity, but, instead, is the artist’s best path to high and sustained creative achievement as evidenced by Achenbach’s own artistic career. The moral resolution has neither the effect of stunting nor of stultifying aesthetic sensibility, but on the contrary, leads to progression, to the heights of literary and philosophical achievement, even to a new and fresh classicism as opposed to the ‘charms’ and ‘lures’ of creative insight which do, in fact, have the ultimate effect of blunting the intellect.

Having analysed the passage for its main themes, its logical form can now be explicated⁴⁷ and it can be further deconstructed for its subtext: its hidden agenda and its implicit assumptions. Aschenbach, however, rejects the argument set out in footnote 47, but the rejection is emotional rather than rational. His whole life was based on a rejection of this inevitable concatenation so that his whole life was based on a contradiction or a lie. The lie is borne out by the subsequent events supporting the logical chain; hence, the tremendous tension in this passage and the vehemence with which Aschenbach rejects the enticements of an aesthetically based amorality. Despite the tension between intellect and emotion, there is also an underlying irony of the artist who ‘protests too much’ and who despite his moral commitment to classicism and truth is dazzled by his own language into grandiloquence and aestheticism, thus already hinting at the truth of the logical outcome together with his own inevitable downfall.

The tone of this passage is intense and impassioned, betraying the inner passion of the artist; yet there is something self-satisfied even to the point of smugness in the exquisitely high literary tone. The phrase “man um dieselbe Zeit ein fast übermäßiges Erstarken seines Schönheitssinnes beobachtete,” applies not only to the fictitious author but also to the passage itself. The irony has an element of self-mockery. The tension of the elaborately wrought, long sentences reflects Aschenbach’s own tension which will, inevitably, reach breaking point. The vehemence with which he tries to refute the inevitability of the aesthetic logic reflects the tension between reason and Aschenbach’s own will. This tension is released in the last sentence in which aesthetic considerations predominate over philosophical content with the result that, yet again, the form not only reflects but also plays with the content both underlining and illustrating the basic point that ‘beauty’ will rule over ‘truth’ in the end just as in the story itself Eros triumphs over reason. The decay of an exaggerated aestheticism is embodied in a text of magnificently impassioned classical [page 153↓]prose which, however, like the strawberries, that turned out to be the efficient cause of Aschenbach’s death, can be described as ‘overripe’. The translator should attempt to capture something of the tone of the passage, if the subtext (that the pent-up power in beauty is artificially controlled by morality) is to be conveyed. Although in an abstract and rather difficult way, this passage encapsulates the whole story of the novella.

The second stage is the encoding, reconstruction, rewriting or reconfiguration of the ideas. Before this stage is attempted, a translation decision must be made as to whether the text should be target-language oriented, i.e. a communicative translation written for a specific readership (Version IV) or whether it should be a semantic translation (Version III) remaining as close as possible to the source language as implied by Venuti’s argumentation in 7.1.

In philosophical writing, a good communicative translation will express the main ideas clearly and fluently, using meta-text if necessary, but will still strive to capture the spirit and flavour of the original. It will cross cultural and national boundaries. In both Lowe-Porter and Luke’s versions, the main argument is lost probably as an effect caused by the academic approach, whereas in both Versions III and IV the sense and meaning of the passage is conveyed.

It will also be evident that the explication of the argument in logical form leads to clear and comprehensible texts as in Versions III and IV. The highlighting of structure is also another example of a translation strategy. The language game in this and many other philosophical passages is intimately bound with logical form. In the selected passage, it has been shown that several language games are embedded in the text which can be subsumed under the headings philosophy and literature.

It is now appropriate to analyse the Lowe-Porter and Luke translations of the extract and to compare them with the suggested free semantic Version III and the suggested free communicative Version IV, as has already been structured in Chapter 4.

Version I:

Lowe-Porter: But it seems that a noble and active mind blunts itself against nothing so quickly as the sharp and bitter irritant of knowledge 1. And certain it is that the youth’s constancy of purpose,2 no matter how painfully conscientious, was shallow beside the mature resolution of the master of his craft, who made a right-about-face 3, turned his back on the [page 154↓] realm of knowledge,4 ┘ 5 and passed it by with averted face, lest it lame his will or power of action, paralyse his feelings or his passions, deprive any of these of their conviction or utility 6. How else interpret the oft-cited story of The Abject, than as a rebuke to the excesses of a psychology-ridden age, embodied in the delineation of the weak and silly fool who manages to lead fate by the nose 7; driving his wife, out of sheer innate pusillanimity 8, into the arms of a beardless youth, and making this disaster 9 an excuse for trifling away 10 the rest of his life?

With rage 11 the author here rejects the rejected, casts out the outcast - and the measure of his fury is the measure of his condemnation of all moral shilly-shallying 12 . Explicitly he renounces sympathy with the abyss, explicitly he refutes the flabby humanitarianism of the phrase: ‘Tout comprendre c’est tout pardonner 13.’ What was here unfolding, or rather was already in full bloom, was ‘the miracle of regained detachment,’ which a little later became the theme of one of the author’s dialogues, dwelt upon not without a certain oracular emphasis 14. Strange sequence of thought 15! Was it perhaps an intellectual consequence of this rebirth, this new austerity, that from now on 16 his style showed an almost exaggerated sense of beauty 17, a lofty purity, symmetry, and simplicity, which gave his productions a stamp of the classic, of conscious and deliberate mastery? And yet: this moral fibre, surviving the hampering and disintegrating effect of knowledge, does it not result in its turn in a dangerous simplification, in a tendency to equate the world and the human soul 18 , and thus to strengthen the hold of the evil, the forbidden, and the ethically impossible? And has not form two aspects? Is it not moral and immoral at once; moral in so far as it is the expression and result of discipline, immoral - yes, actually hostile to morality - in that of its very essence it is indifferent to good and evil, and deliberately concerned to make the moral world stoop beneath its proud and undivided sceptre? (Lowe-Porter 1978: 17-18)

1. The phrase irritant of knowledge is inappropriate for “Reiz der Erkenntnis” for the following reasons:

   (a) The noun irritant has the opposite meaning to the one in this context - charm, lure, enticement etc., as in the phrase the lure of artistic insight or as correctly rendered in the other versions. Thus, the introductory major premise of the passage is given a contrary meaning from the very beginning, thereby undermining the whole structure of the argument.

   (b) The noun knowledge for “Erkenntnis” needs qualification: as already analysed in Chapter 4, knowledge has more associations with Wissenschaft; simply the noun insight or even artistic or philosophical insight would be appropriate in this context. This point will be discussed in greater detail at a later stage in this chapter. ⁴⁸

   [page 155↓]
2. The phrase constancy of purpose has no German equivalent in the original. This is, perhaps, a relatively harmless interpolation from Lowe-Porter, whose work tends to idealise and romanticise Thomas Mann’s themes.
3. The expression a right-about-face for “mit dem tiefen Entschluß” is far too colloquial for the high literary tone of the passage as well as being semantically overtranslated because the Lowe-Porter collocation would imply a complete reversal of values or ‘U-turn’ rather than a decision.
4. The phrase the realm of knowledge for the gerund das Wissen: this is another example of Lowe-Porter’s romanticising the darker themes in Mann’s work. This Wissen separates the artist from the Bürger and is more likely to have satanic overtones that later become explicit in Mann’s oeuvre as with Leverkühn’s insights into music in Dr Faustus. The phrase the realm of knowledge, on the other hand, is an idealistic term more in tune with Romanticism or even Victorian sentimentality than the sophisticated context of this particular discourse.
5. The phrase “im geringsten” is omitted in the Lowe-Porter version, thus lessening the force of the ethical commitment and total rejection of evil. This also misses the emotional force behind Aschenbach’s decision with a resultant loss of the tension already discussed with regard to this passage.
6. The noun utility - another unjustified interpolation which would confuse the issues. It is not clear whether utility is used in the context of a Benthamite hedonistic calculus, i.e. producing the greatest happiness for the greatest number, or merely in its ordinary sense of usefulness. As this concept is not in the original text nor implied in any way, great philosophical confusion results for the reader.
7. The phrase lead fate by the nose fails to express the meaning of “der sich ein Schicksal erschleicht” as it implies the protagonist is not only in control of fate in general, but is fooling destiny itself. Luke’s version is more accurate “who cheats his way into destiny”, or Version IV which is slightly bolder: “who gained a cheap notoriety for himself”.
8. The phrase innate pusillanimity is a poor translation for “aus Ohnmacht, aus Lasterhaftigkeit, aus ethischer Velleität”. Not only is the Steigerungseffekt (crescendo) missed which culminates in the ironic Velleität, a word itself that hovers on the edge of the German language reflecting its own subtle ambiguity, but Lowe-Porter also [page 156↓]introduces a completely alien idea into the argument, namely that the weakness was innate, or inherited. The very point of the story is to show that this laxity is reprehensible because there is free consent to moral turpitude, but the idea of innate or inborn evil would tend to have the opposite effect by exonerating the anti-hero. Thus, the example aimed to concretise what is otherwise an abstract argument is botched with yet another loss in the philosophical argumentation.
9. The phrase making this disaster has no German source. This again is an unwarranted addition which distorts the text in the same way as the use of the adjective innate in the previous line. As a disaster generally refers to something external to the speaker and is often associated with the collocation natural disaster, this again has the effect of lessening the guilt of the anti-hero. Since there is neither explicit nor implicit reference to a disaster in the text, the interpolation cannot be justified.
10. The phrase trifling away for “Nichtswürdigkeiten begehen” is a very weak translation for the rather strong, but far more appropriate translation in IV committing acts of indecency. The whole shameful and disgusting aspects of the original (no doubt reminiscent of woeful figures such as Tobias Mindernickel in the eponymous story) are domesticated out of existence in the Lowe-Porter version.
11. The phrase with rage for “mit Wucht” is obviously a complete misreading of the text at the most elementary level, i.e. confusion between Wucht and Wut.
12. The phrase moral shilly-shallying for “ethischer Velleität”. This vivid, though very colloquial phrase is another example of Lowe-Porter’s tendency to trivialise the philosophical passages.
13. The phrase Tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner is perhaps an adequate translation (by going back to the original), but the high literary tone of the passage is lowered by the use of this hackneyed saying.
14. The phrase a certain oracular emphasis is far too strong a translation for the phrase “nicht ohne geheimnisvolle Betonung”. The adjective oracular refers to an authoritative pronouncement, which again has the effect of heightening the hubris theme invented by Lowe-Porter (see 3.3) and is yet another factor emphasising Lowe-Porter’s reduction of the tragedy to a morality play as discussed in 3.3. The adjective geheimnisvoll with its implication of secret or mysterious motives, in this context, would seem to refer to private hidden, possibly clandestine reasons known only to the author himself.[page 157↓]
15. In the phrase, strange sequence of thought, for “seltsame Zusammenhänge”, the German plural form is important here as many different strands within the basic themes of Thomas Mann’s philosophy are referred to with the implication that some strands connect in unexpected ways whereas a sequence would imply the opposite such as a chronological or formal logical sequence. Version IV would seem to express the import most clearly, even if with some licence: “How strange the way all these themes connect with each other!”
16. The phrase from now on is an embarrassing elementary grammatical mistake for “um dieselbe Zeit”. As this reference is to the past, not the present, the translation should be either a close translation such as at the same time or at least a phrase such as from that time onwards if tense coherence is to be maintained. Any equivalent which keeps the relative future reference within the framework of past time could also be used. This is, of course, not a mistake repeated in the other translations.
17. In the phrase his style showed an almost exaggerated sense of beauty for “ein fast übermäßiges Erstarken seines Schönheitssinnes”; it is not his style (an inanimate abstract noun) that has a sense of beauty, but the man himself so that a phrase such as aesthetic consciousness or aesthetic sensibility would be more appropriate as in versions III and IV, implying that Aschenbach’s aestheticism increased to an inordinate degree, an implication which is totally lost in the Lowe-Porter version, but which is important for understanding not only the tone and register of the passage but also its general argumentation.
18. The phrase in a tendency to equate the world and the human soul is a philosophically disastrous translation for eine sittliche Vereinfältigung der Welt und der Seele. Mann is concerned that a (bourgeois) ethical stance could lead to a simplistic metaphysical position, i.e. a naïve belief in good and evil despite living in a post-Nietzschean world. Lowe-Porter’s formulation echoes more idealistic notions such as Schelling’s concept of the Weltseele or could even be interpreted as a form of solipsism - both possibilities being philosophically totally misleading by distorting the cultural context.

Version II:

Luke: But it seems that there is nothing to which a noble and active mind 1 more quickly becomes inured than that pungent and bitter stimulus, the acquisition of knowledge 2; and it is very sure that even the most gloomily conscientious and radical sophistication of youth is shallow by comparison with Aschenbach’s profound decision as a mature master to repudiate knowledge as such, to reject [page 158↓]it, to step over it with head held high - in the recognition that knowledge can paralyse the will, paralyse and discourage action and emotion and even passion, and rob all these of their dignity. How else is the famous short story A Study in Abjection to be understood but as an outbreak of disgust against an age indecently undermined by psychology and represented by the figure of a spiritless, witless semiscoundrel 3 who cheats his way into a destiny of sorts, when, motivated by his own ineptitude 4 and depravity and ethical whimsicality, 5 he drives his wife into the arms of a callow youth - convinced that his intellectual depths entitle him to behave with contemptible baseness? The forthright words of condemnation which here weighed vileness in the balance and found it wanting 6 - they proclaimed their writer’s renunciation of all moral scepticism, 7 of every kind of sympathy with the abyss; they declared his repudiation of the laxity of that compassionate principle which holds that to understand all is to forgive all. And the development that was here being anticipated, indeed already taking place, was that ‘miracle of reborn naiveté’ to which, in a dialogue written a little later, the author himself had referred with a certain mysterious emphasis. How strange these associations! 8 Was it an intellectual consequence of this ‘rebirth,’ of this new dignity and rigor, that, at about the same time, his sense of beauty was observed to undergo an almost excessive resurgence,9 that his style took on the noble purity, simplicity and symmetry that were to set upon 10 all his subsequent works that so evident and evidently intentional 11 stamp of the classical master? And yet: moral resoluteness at the far side of knowledge, achieved in despite of 12 all corrosive and inhibiting insight - does this not in its turn signify a simplification, a morally simplistic view of the world and of human psychology, and thus also a resurgence of energies that are evil, forbidden, morally impossible? And is form not two-faced? Is it not at one and the same time moral and immoral - moral as the product and expression of discipline, but immoral and even antimoral inasmuch as it houses within itself an innate moral indifference, and indeed essentially strives for nothing less than to bend morality under its proud and absolute scepter? (Luke 1988: 204-205)

1. The phrase active mind is a misleading translation for “tüchtiger Geist”. As is often the case and despite his explicit reservations concerning Lowe-Porter’s competence, Luke often slavishly and disastrously follows Lowe-Porter’s version. The moral aspect of diligence, a typical theme for Thomas Mann which is vividly expressed in Schwere Stunde, for example, is missed in these two translations. Since the passage is concerned with this aspect of morality and the problem of making ethical choices in general, this is a serious omission.
2. The phrase the acquisition of knowledge is very neutral and too scientific for “bitteren Reiz der Erkenntnis” as Luke’s phrase implies a mere accumulation of facts, a total misconception, as has already been analysed in note 1(b) referring to the Lowe-Porter version.
3. In the phrase of a spiritless, witless semiscoundrel for “jenes weichen und albernen Halbschurken”, the adjective witless lacks the necessary element of [page 159↓]moral condemnation. (Similarly, the adjective spiritless is also too weak by implying a defect rather than the conscious choice for evil. The adjective weak would carry the necessary moral connotations.) The noun semiscroundrel does not work in English and has, indeed, a ludicrous effect. As scoundrel expresses harsh condemnation, the subject of reference is either a scoundrel or not a scoundrel. We do not, for example, talk of ‘semi-thieves’ when referring to someone who might be regarded as even the pettiest of thieves. However, the noun Halbschurke presents a translation problem because it is also a strange concoction in German so that a literal translation could be just accepted in a close semantic translation.
4. In the phrase motivated by his own ineptitude for “aus Ohnmacht”, the noun ineptitude continues Luke’s stress on stupidity and mild condemnation as opposed to moral weakness, which is, in fact, the main theme of the sentence. Again the diminishing of the ethical content reflects the failure to follow the line of argument in the passage.
5. The noun whimsicality is also weak for “Velleität” and continues, as in the Lowe-Porter version, the toning down the opprobrium Mann wishes to heap on the protagonist. Whimsicality has positive associations in the case of a person merely following what might be eccentric whims, whereas, in this context, the noun Velleität has more to do with prevarication, lack of ethical purpose and profound decadence. This is yet another example of domesticating the ethical content out of existence and thus of losing the whole force of the argument.
6. The clause the forthright words of condemnation which here weighed vileness in the balance and found it wanting is another domesticated version for “die Wucht des Wortes, mit welcher hier das Verworfene verworfen wurde”. In what sense vileness can be found wanting is not clear as something is either vile or not and a lacking vileness (in other words, a vileness found wanting would imply the opposite, i.e. that the vileness was not vile enough!) Again this reflects the failure to follow the philosophical thread running throughout the passage.
7. The phrase the writer’s renunciation of all moral scepticism for “verkündete die Abkehr von allem moralischen Zweifelsinn” continues to domesticate the rejection of immorality. Renunciation is not the same as rejection and usually has connotations of doing without, often connected with asceticism. Repudiation or a more literal phrase such as the turning away from would be more suitable in this context. Only in certain formulations such as renouncing the devil does the word [page 160↓]renunciation have its full moral force of total rejection, but in the phrase renunciation of all moral scepticism, the logical implication becomes confused, because the renunciation of moral scepticism could imply the absurd conclusion that immoral scepticism would be more acceptable. This point is another illustration of the mistake of simply translating a philosophical text sentence by sentence rather than taking a holistic approach to the highly structured argument.
8. The phrase, how strange these associations, for “seltsame Zusammenhänge” is again a weak translation. Associations are open-ended echoes of meanings where the term Zusammenhänge (interconnections) refers to the structure of themes, which seemingly unrelated, prove, in fact, to be connected to each other. The attentive reader can trace the structure of the connections of these themes. Associations, on the other hand, are much looser (as in a dream) so that something of the interconnectedness of Mann’s universe is lost in Luke’s version.
9. The clause his sense of beauty was observed to undergo an almost excessive resurgence for “man um dieselbe Zeit ein fast übermäßiges Erstarken seines Schönheitssinnes beobachtete,” implies that his aesthetic sense reappeared by the process of resurgence whereas the whole point of the sentence is to show that there was a new development of aesthetic sensibility, namely an increase in his powers. Thus, the sense of a decadent overripe sensibility, as already discussed in 7.2., is lost.
10. The phrase to set upon [. . .] stamp is an infelicitous use of English for “Gepräge verleihen”. The phrase: He set his seal upon something is a possible collocation, but not: *He set upon his works that stamp.
11. The phrase, that so evident and evidently intentional stamp, for “ein so sinnfälliges, ja gewolltes Gepräge” is clever word-play, but fails to work as the collocation that evident stamp of the classical master is not semantically transparent unlike an alternative such as that obvious stamp of the classical master, and this lack of transparency is blurred even more by adding the adverb evidently to qualify yet another adjective, thus producing a confusing effect.
12. The preposition *in despite of does not, of course, exist. It is to be hoped that this error, more typical in the works of Lowe-Porter, is a printer’s oversight.

Luke’s condemnation of the Lowe-Porter version as “garbled” would seem to be particularly apt with regard to the translation of ‘philosophical’ passages. Even though, at times, there is a certain flow, some of the basic ideas have been shown to [page 161↓]be either ignored or misunderstood and key-themes played down or omitted. Luke’s version is more comprehensible and generally makes sense despite his omission of some vital aspects such as the strong emphasis on moral responsibility as shown in the detailed analysis, but the argument is not clearly highlighted and the passages seem confusing and dull, lacking the intense passion of the original. In short, it lacks a clear structured coherent argument as has been shown in the detailed analysis where some key premises in the argument have been blurred by inaccurate translation. It must be admitted that the source text is difficult, but Luke’s translation serves only to increase these surface difficulties partly on account of the various misreadings but mainly because there is no attempt to analyse, clarify, interpret or convey the basic argument. Although Luke is a highly competent German scholar, his translation is a typical product of the academic approach of line-by-line, sentence-by-sentence translation.

Following Venuti’s approach outlined in 7.1, two strategies are offered as improvements in the suggested versions. The first (Version III) is a source-text-based translation or to use Newmark’s terminology a semantic version.

However, different from both Venuti and Newmark, this translation’s main point of fidelity is to the argumentation and structure involving some use of meta-language. In this passage as in the more domesticating Version IV, the force of the moral condemnation of amoral aestheticism is highlighted to contrast with the high moral discipline and determination of Aschenbach’s career.

Version III: (Source-Text-Based Version) (Gledhill)

However, it seems that the pungently acrid and bitter allure of knowledge and insight will stupefy the noble and diligent mind more swiftly and more systematically than anything else; and it is also certain that the young artist’s absolute thoroughness carried out in glum resignation was sheer superficiality compared with that profound decision of the later mature artist who had become a master of his craft and who had decided to deny insight and knowledge, to reject them and, with his head proudly held high, to walk away as soon as artistic insight showed the slightest tendency to paralyse, discourage or, in any way, debase either the will, action or the emotions including the passions. How else could the story, A Vile Wretch be interpreted other than as an outburst of horror against the psychologising tendencies so typical of the age, which were epitomised in the form of that weak and foolish, immature wretch who slimed his way into history by driving his wife into the arms of a beardless youth; and whose motives were determined by lethargy, vice and moral velleity and who fondly believed that his insights entitled him to behave indecently? The force with which the written word rejected the reject in this story heralded a turning away from all forms of moral [page 162↓]ambiguity and from all forms of sympathy with the abyss. It rejected the moral laxity implied by that trite formulation of ultimate compassion that implies to understand is to forgive. What was developing here and, in fact, came to fruition, was ‘the miracle of a new-born objectivity’ which was explicitly referred to in one of the author’s dialogues and was given some special, mysterious emphasis. There were some very strange connections! Could it be as a result of this ‘rebirth’, of this new dignity and severity, that an almost exaggerated intensity in the author’s aesthetic consciousness was simultaneously observed during this period - the aristocratic purity of style, simplicity and formal balance in his structures giving his literary products from that time onwards, their striking classicism and that masterly craftsmanship he had always been aiming for? But does not a moral stance that transcends knowledge and artistic insight (insights which dissolve everything and prevent action) imply a simplification or a simplistically moral attitude to the world and soul? And does not too much knowledge increase the inclination towards evil, the forbidden and what is morally impossible? And does not form have two faces? Is not form both moral and immoral at the same time - moral as a result of and expression of discipline, but also immoral in so far as, by its very nature, it contains a profound moral indifference or even worse, its essential aim is to force morality to bow down to its proud, unbounded sceptre?

Version IV follows from III in that the argumentation is highlighted but this time written in a more reader-friendly form i.e. domesticating and communicative but with all the basic ideas clearly conveyed to the reader. There are some slight explanatory additions and some omissions which do not distort the text as with the mistranslations of Luke and Lowe-Porter, but, on the contrary, which make the text clearer and more digestible for English-speaking readers. It is to a certain extent an interpretation, but hardly a controversial one as the ‘message’ of the original text is very clearly expressed. The strategic aspect of this translation based on Wittgenstein’s language game theory is to demonstrate ‘fidelity’ to the particular language game being played: here, impassioned philosophical argument. This allows some semantic licence with the text in an explanatory or expanding form whilst at the same time remaining true to the structure and logic of the argument. The text is to seen merely as an illustration that yet another strategy is possible and is certainly an improvement on the academic approach and to be read as offering solutions to the problems that have arisen from the critical notes on Luke’s and Lowe-Porter’s translations.

Version IV: (Domesticating) (Gledhill)

There is nothing more powerful nor swifter in its effect on this earth for both blunting and stunting the intellects of even the noblest and most conscientious minds than the fascination [page 163↓]that yields to pure insight and knowledge. On the other hand, the grim, pedantic diligence of the artist when he was a young man is merely superficial in comparison to the profound resolution made by the mature artist when he completely repudiated this kind of knowledge, proudly walking away from its domain as soon as insight threatened to paralyse the will, to dishonour human passions and emotions, to prevent moral action from taking place or, in any way, to detract from the dignity of the human, ethical areas of life. How else can we interpret the story called Human Scum other than as a vilification of the modern tendency to reduce evil to psychology? The outbreak of nausea towards ‘psychologism’ was symbolised by the protagonist of the story, a spineless and foolish specimen of ‘human scum’, who gained a cheap notoriety for himself by driving his wife into the arms of a callow youth? His weakness came from an inability to act, from a debauched will and moral equivocation, but he foolishly believed that depth of insight could justify acts of indecency. The eloquence with which the writer denounced this specimen marked a complete rejection of ethical prevarication - no more sympathy with the abyss nor with that decadent cliché: ‘Tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner.’ This led to the next stage, ‘the miracle of new-born objectivity’, a phrase he had coined before in one of his dialogues when he gave it a mysterious, special emphasis. How strange the way all these themes seem to be interrelated! The new classicism and craftsmanship which, from then on, characterised his work could be seen as a consequence of the ‘rebirth’ which had occurred at the same time. His style had gained a new dignity and austerity; his works had an aristocratic purity, simplicity and balance and his aesthetic sensibility was carried almost to excess. There could, however, be dangers with this step taken in favour of a morality that transcends knowledge and philosophical insight that analyses and dissolves everything, thus atrophying the ability to act. The moral choice could imply a gross oversimplification of the external world and could cause the human soul to tend all the more in the direction of evil, towards forbidden things and towards the ethically impossible. Form itself can be said to have two faces, to be both moral and immoral, at the same time - moral as the fruit and expression of discipline, but also immoral or even amoral as form is, by its very nature, completely indifferent to morality and, what is more, its basic aim is to force morality to bow down to its proud sceptre that knows no limits.

The language-game theory can also contribute to the still unsolved/unsolvable problem of translating dialectal features in a text. As, however, there is only one passage in the three stories which has strong dialectal features, this aspect of translation theory will be dealt with only briefly. It is, first of all, necessary to distinguish dialect from sociolect, or, more precisely, to assess the proportion of sociolectal to dialectal constituents of any given dialogue. As many languages have a wide range of sociolectal registers, it should not be impossible to encode similar ‘language games’ in the target languages.

That it is difficult is attested by Raykowski (1979) in his Nachwort to his translation of three Jeeves stories:

Manchmal ist es jedoch schwierig, für einen englischen Ausdruck einen sinnentsprechenden deutschen zu finden. Das gilt vor allem für Wörter, die eng mit dem kulturellen und sozialen Hintergrund Englands verbunden sind, also etwas „typisches Englisches“ bezeichnen. Hin und wieder kann man so ein Wort um des Lokalkolorits willen stehen lassen, etwa yard oder Colonel. In anderen Fällen muß durch einen erklärenden Zusatz explizit gemacht werden, was sich für einen englischen Leser von selbst versteht. (Raykowski 1979: 128)

It is a pity that a translator as gifted as Raykowski is so pessimistic about the capturing of dialectal and sociolectal features as his brilliant solution to a pun in Alice in Wonderland analysed in 8.2 shows that he is a highly resourceful translator and so much of the humour in Wodehouse’s Jeeves depends on sociolectal colouring. This can be illustrated in the extract below taken from Jeeves and the Kid Clementina:

I was wandering moodily to and fro on the pier, when I observed Jeeves shimmering towards me.

‘Good afternoon sir,’ he said. ‘I had not supposed that you would be returning quite so soon, or I would have remained at the hotel.’

‘I had not supposed that I would be returning quite so soon myself, Jeeves,’ I said, sighing somewhat. ‘I was outed in the first round, I regret to say.’

‘Indeed, sir? I am sorry to hear that.’

‘And to increase the mortification of defeat, Jeeves, by a blighter who had not spared himself at the luncheon table and was quite noticeably sozzled. I couldn’t seem to do anything right.’

‘Possibly you omitted to keep your eye on the ball with sufficient assiduity, sir?’

‘Something of that nature, no doubt. Anyway, here I am, a game and popular loser and . . . ’ I paused, and scanned the horizon with some interest.

‘Great Scott, Jeeves! Look at that girl just coming on to the pier. I never saw anybody so extraordinarily like Miss Wickham. How do account for these resemblances?’

‘In the present instance, sir, I attribute the similarity to the fact that the young lady is Miss Wickham.’

‘Eh?’

‘Yes, sir. If you notice she is waving to you now.’

‘But what on earth is she doing down here?’

‘I am unable to say, sir.’ (Wodehouse 1989: 131. My emphasis to indicate variation.)

The aristocrat speaks in short, clipped sentences larded with contemporary slang words such as blighter and sozzled whereas the butler speaks in well-rounded ponderous sentences containing unusual but pedantically correct collocations such as omitting to keep your eye on the ball with sufficient assiduity for what in standard [page 165↓]English would be simply failing to watch the ball. The translator would need to realise that Bertie Wooster speaks an upper-class nineteen-twenties/thirties slang whereas his butler Jeeves speaks such an erudite and pedantic English that it too has pronounced idiolectal features.

Even Hatim and Mason are reasonably optimistic in this respect in their otherwise pessimistic view with regard to the possibility of relaying idio/sociolectal features in translation:

The question for the translator is: since idiolects are normally on the margin of situationally relevant variation, is it necessary or possible to translate them? But if variation within any given domain of linguistic activity is systematic (and we believe it is), much more than the actual descriptive label for a given instance of variation is involved. One’s idiolectal use of language is not unrelated to one’s choice of which standard, geographical, social or temporal dialects to use. It is linked to the purpose of the utterance and will ultimately be found to carry socio-cultural significance. (Hatim and Mason 1998: 44)

That it is possible to relay sociolect is attested by Samuel Beckett’s English translation, Waiting for Godot of his own French play En Attendant Godot. This is an example that has already been chosen but not fully analysed by Hatim and Mason as a model of successful sociolectgal translation:

French version:

VLADIMIR (froissé, froidement). - Peut-on savoir où Monsieur a passé la nuit?

ESTRAGON . - Dans un fossé.

VLADIMIR (épaté). - Un fossé! Où ça?

ESTRAGON (sans geste).- Par là. (Beckett 1971: 10)

English version:

VLADIMIR: May one enquire where his Highness spent the night?

ESTRAGON: In a ditch.

VLADIMIR: (admiringly). A ditch! Where?

ESTRAGON: (without a gesture). Over there. (Beckett 1965: 9)

In the above example, “Peut-on savoir où Monsieur a passé la nuit?”, Beckett uses a formal register (i.e. the use of the third person when addressing his fellow tramp), but a close translation would not quite have the same formal effect in English as in French. To solve this problem, Beckett uses the technique of compensation by raising his companion to royalty. A compensatory humorous effect is achieved in the English version with the bathetic contrast of Estragon’s answer.

Beckett uses the same compensation technique throughout the play. One more example should suffice to illustrate this point. In the English version, Vladimir this [page 166↓]time raises his tramp companion to the status of a high court judge by using the title Your Worship:

French version:

ESTRAGON. - Quel est notre rôle là-dedans?

VLADIMIR. - Notre rôle?

ESTRAGON. - Prends ton temps.

VLADIMIR. - Notre rôle? Celui du suppliant.

ESTRAGON. - A ce point-là?

VLADIMIR. - Monsieur a des exigences à faire valoir?

ESTRAGON. - On n’a plus de droits? (Beckett 1971: 24-25)

English version:

ESTRAGON. Where do we come in?

VLADIMIR. Come in?

ESTRAGON. Take your time.

VLADIMIR. Come in? On our hands and knees.

ESTRAGON. As bad as that?

VLADIMIR. Your Worship wishes to assert his prerogatives?

ESTRAGON. We have no rights any more? (Beckett 1965: 18-19)

The only passage in the three stories in which dialect or more precisely in this context, regional accent, plays an important role is the scene in Chapter VII of Tonio Kröger when Tonio has a conversation with the businessman on board the ship to Denmark. The unnamed businessman speaks in a Hamburg dialect which is further compounded by his own idiolect complicated even further by sinus problems. The scene is a source of humour. Inspired by an excess of food and drink, the businessman waxes both lyrical and philosophical about the immensity of the universe represented by the “glittering” stars on an exceptionally clear night in contrast to the insignificance of mankind:

Sehen Sie, Herr, bloß die Sderne an. Da sdehen sie und glitzern, es ist, weiß Gott, der ganze Himmel voll. Und nun bitt’ ich Sie, wenn man hinaufsieht und bedenkt, daß viele davon hundertmal größer sein sollen als die Erde, wie wird einem da zu Sinn? Wir Menschen haben den Telegraphen erfunden und das Telephon und so viele Errungenschaften der Neuzeit, ja, das haben wir. Aber wenn wir da hinaufsehen, so müssen wir doch erkennen und versdehen, daß wir im Grunde Gewürm sind, elendes Gewürm und nichts weiter, - hab’ ich Recht oder Unrecht, Herr? Ja, wir sind Gewürm!” antwortete er sich selbst und nickte demütig und zerknirscht zum Firmament empor. (Mann 1977: 243. Idiolectal variations are indicated by the underlining)

Tonio rather snobbishly says of him: “Der hat keine Literatur im Leib”, because he is confronted by another case of a “Bürger” causing embarrassment by straying into the world of poetry and the arts like the lieutenant who recited poetry to the consternation of others as referred to in his conversation with Lisavetta (Chapter IV). Indeed, the next morning after his poetic and philosophical outburst, the businessman is acutely embarrassed. The humorous perspective is obvious as ‘the lyrical mood’ was also connected with his stomach complaint, after eating too much lobster omelette:

Beim Frühstück sah er den jungen Mann wieder, der heftig errötete, wahrscheinlich vor Scham, im Dunklen so poetische und blamable Dinge geäußert zu haben [. . .] (Mann 1977: 244)

The approaches of Luke and Lowe-Porter to the problem of translating idiolect/dialect represent the opposite ends of the spectrum. This can be seen by comparing the two versions:

Lowe-Porter: Look by dear sir, just look at the stars. There they stahd and glitter; by goodness, the whole sky is full of theb! And I ask you, when you stahd ahd look up at theb!, ahd realize that bany of theb are a huddred tibes larger thad the earth, how does it bake you feel? Yes, we have idvehted the telegraph and the telephode and all the triumphs of our bodern tibes. But whed we look up there, after all we have to recogdize and uhderstad that we are worbs, biserable worbs, ahd dothing else. Ab I right, sir, or ab I wrog? Yes, we are worbs,’ he answered himself, and nodded meekly and abjectly in the direction of the firmament. (Lowe-Porter 1978: 174. Idiolectal variations are indicated by the underlining)

Luke: Look, sir, just look at the sstars! Twinkling away up there; by god, the whole sky’s full of them. And when you look up at it all and consider that a lot of them are supposed to be a hundred times the size of the earth, well, I ask you, how does it make one feel! We men have invented the telegraph and the telephone and so many wonders of modern times, yes, so we have. But when we look up there we have to realize nevertheless that when all’s said and done we are just worms, just miserable little worms and nothing more - am I right or am I wrong, sir? Yes, “he concluded, answering his own question, “that’s what we are: worms!” And he nodded toward the firmament in abject contrition. (Luke 1988: 176. The one idiolectal variation is indicated by the underlining)

In Mann’s version there are only four obvious idiolectal variations indicated by non-standard spelling of the words involved whereas Lowe-Porter makes thirty variations in this brief extract. Luke, on the other hand, makes only one alteration, the doubling the letter s to form the non-existent noun sstars to hint at the North German dialect in which the phoneme s replaces the usual German ʃ phoneme as in the noun Sterne, for example. However, without a metalinguistic hint, this would not mean anything to the English reader.

It could be argued that at least Lowe-Porter makes an attempt to capture something of the idiolect and to produce a sinus effect, but the result in this extract is laboured causing more a ludicrous rather than a humorous effect. To the unsuspecting reader the passage could seem to be very confusing or even incomprehensible. It might have helped if she had written a metalinguistic comment into her text, i.e. that the businessman’s sinus problems had the effect that his m sounded like b and that the nasal n is either omitted or replaced by the phoneme d. The non-existent noun worbs, for example, is doubly confusing because an English speaker would tend to pronounce this ‘word’ as wɔ:bz, rhyming with orbs, for example. It is, of course, intended to represent the noun worms (wɜ:mz), but as two of the phonemes out of four are different, the reader cannot be expected to make the necessary phonetic leap and even if the reader tried, he or she would probably land on words rather than worms owing to the former sound’s relative phonetic similarity. Other such examples could be given, but, on this occasion, Lowe-Porter’s boldness in attempting to encode an idiolect, must be respected even though the encoding was not thoroughly thought out and ultimately fails. In Luke’s case, the minimal hint at dialect succeeds to a certain extent, but much of the humour is lost. This could, have been achieved by giving general English dialectal and sociolectal features such as the use of interjections such ee and non-standard forms such them for those so that the opening speech could read something like: “Ee, look at them stars up there, glittering away like that, but it don’t half make you think, eh?” and so forth. Thus, the humorous function of using non-standard language to express ‘exalted’ thoughts is achieved and Tonio’s intellectually snobbish reaction (“Der hat keine Literatur im Leib”) even if not justified would fit in so that the text would read coherently.

7.6.1 Philosophy Translation

Fidelity in a philosophical context implies fidelity to the argument. In the case of Thomas Mann, the philosophy is deeply embedded in literary language games so that the translator has to be something of a philosopher and poet at the same time. However, both a clear semantic translation and a readable communicative translation have been seen to be an improvement on the academic approach.

7.6.2 Dialect Translation

This area remains problematic. It has been shown that there are possible strategies and that it is very important to assess both the extent of dialect in any [page 169↓]passage and its particular literary function within the text before encoding dialectal features in the target text. It has also been pointed out that more linguistic research is needed in defining the various degrees of dialectal coloration. Similarly, more literary studies such as that of Mace (1987) examining the various functions of dialect within a particular literary work are needed before a thorough or comprehensive treatment of this topic can be successfully undertaken within translation studies. At least, this chapter has opened up once again this fraught area and some possible strategies have been hinted at within the framework of a strategic approach to translation theory.

Footnotes and Endnotes

⁴⁶  Despite 47 topics listed for discussion Hellmann’s study, Die französische Version des Zauberberg von Thomas Mann in his otherwise thorough study of Maurice Betz’s French translation, there is not a single reference to the philosophising passages. This is surprising because Der Zauberberg is a highly philosophical work. Even more surprising is the fact that under linguistic headings such as “ad-hoc Komposita,” “Adjektiv und Bindestrich-Doppeladjektiv” and “andere Sondersprachen”, there are virtually no examples of philosophical language. This aspect is more or less ignored throughout the whole work, a state of affairs which only reflects the general avoidance of this area by literary scholars and critics.

⁴⁷ 

As this demands some knowledge of the propositional calculus within formal logic, it is appropriate in an essentially literary thesis to exhibit this as a footnote:

1. Discipline produces the artist. D ⇒ A

2. The artist gains insight into the depths of reality. A ⇒ I

3. Insight is not bound by morality (i.e. is amoral). I ⇒ -M

4. Amorality leads to immorality and downfall (sin, death)-M ⇒ S

therefore, A ⇒ S

As is clear from the symbolism, this is a valid but not an obvious argument (as opposed to D ⇒ S which has a simple modus ponens structure) because this works only by a triple application of the hypothetical syllogism.

⁴⁸ According to Thirlwall, Lowe-Porter had probably discussed this difficulty with Albert Einstein: “In this interview she pointed out a key difficulty in working with another language: ‘It sometimes happens that a foreigner, however fluent his English, will not know all the implications of an English word and thus consider its use in an English sentence as incorrect. I once had a discussion on this point with a very great, very modest genius [probably Einstein], who could not believe that the German word Erkenntnis, translated, had in English, as in German, many shades of meaning. The same is true with English renderings of German words, my own included.’ ” (Thirlwall 1966: 26. Thirlwall’s insertion.)