God’s Language – Translated Literature And Subtitled Films

 JAN.09.2013 

Growing up in Israel, I was used, from an early age,  to read translated literature and to watch movies with subtitles.  As children we read stories translated from many different languages: English, Russian, Polish, German, French, Swedish and Italian. Some of the books were even translated through a third language into Hebrew. For example, in the early part of the 20th century one of the famous Israeli poet translated Shakespeare from Russian into Hebrew.

I remember watching my childhood idol, the actress Hayley Mills starring in Disney Movies  which were based on some of my favorite books. For example  The Parent Trap was based upon the German book Lottie and Lisa Das Doppelte Lottchen by Erich Kästner), Pollyanna, based on the book by the same name by Eleanor H. Porter and in In Search of the Castaways, an adaptation of the French novel by  Jules Verne Captain Grant's Children.

Whenever I go into the children section of a typical American public library I am surprised by the meager collection of translated books. It is rare to find books by “foreign authors” like Erich Kastner,  Jules Verne, Selma Lagerlöf,  Kristina Nestlinger to name a few.

I am sure that there are many explanations for this absence. However, it is sad that young American readers grow up reading only about children like them and about reality which is familiar and comfortable to them.  Learning about the world from books develops the imagination and teaches the young reader about the world. The huge success of Harry Potter shows that children are ready and willing to broaden their horizons.

Often when I meet Americans, of all ages,  who tell me that they don’t go to foreign films because they are heavy and  besides they don’t like to read subtitles, I feel sorry for them as I am quite certain that as children they believed that books were only written in God’s language --English

P.S. In response to my post a friend sent me this link with the following comment

 http://publishingperspectives.com/2010/01/the-translation-gap-why-more-foreign-writers-arent-published-in-america/

And apart from Stieg Larsson I cannot think of anything that is recent.

Thinking about Stieg Larsson and what you had written I realized that the original Girl With The Dragon Tattoo movie was in Swedish and released with English sub-titles in 2009. The English language remake, just two years later, used about 95% of the scenes and locations of the original. I had wondered why they bothered but you are right, people will not read sub-titles

On Remaining Unpublished, or The Most Underrated Novelist of the 20th Century

JUL.04.2013 

What could you do if you fall out of favor all of a sudden, or somehow become irrelevant?  A poignant example is the rejection experienced by the British novelist Barbara Pym (1913—1980) after publishing six novels from 1949—1960.

Barbara Pym did not write bestsellers,  but she enjoyed a steady success (we have to take into account that in the 1950s most people borrowed books from the library: Excellent Women sold 6577 copies, Jane and Prudence 5052, Less Than Angels 3569 and A Glass of Blessing 3071), and got favorable reviews. Hazel Holt, Pym’s biographer and literary executor, argues that her books never lost her publisher, Jonathan Cape, any money.

Thus, as a published author of six books, Pym must have felt that she had arrived; she knew her audience and understood what they wanted to read.  I suppose that she had every reason to believe that her writing career was on a safe and steady path.

The shock came in 1963 when  her  seventh novel,  An Unsuitable Attachment, was rejected by Jonathan Cape, and she could not find another publisher for the work. For 15 years, all her new writings remained unpublished.

Pym was totally unprepared for the rejection; as her world had remained unchanged, she could not have predicted that her writing would become irrelevant in the 1960s.

I cannot begin to imagine her reaction, her distress. She must have started to doubt her whole perception of reality, how could she have been so wrong? What about her loyal readers? Had they stopped being interested in what she had to say? Moreover, writing was her whole life; she had never married or had children.  

Pym was 50 year old when she encountered rejection. I know from experience that this is an age when women start to feel invisible. My female friends report that no one sees them, and  I sense  that Pym’s  rejection may have augmented the feelings of being transparent.

Still being invisible has its advantages. A friend of mine says that since no one sees you, you are free to do whatever you choose. Pym did just that, she did not cave in but kept writing novels  in her own style, and did not try to please anyone but herself. 

Like in fairy tales, Pym’ s consistency and hard work were rewarded.  For its  75th anniversary, the Times Literary Supplement issued a list of the most underrated writers of the century, drawn up by forty-three eminent literary figures. Pym was the only living writer to be named by two people – the poet Philip Larkin, and the historian and biographer Lord David Cecil.

This nomination brought about a revived interest in Pym; her novels were reissued and Quartet in Autumn (1977) was shortlisted for the Booker Prize.

 So like in Greek tragedies, in which the greater good always takes precedent over the fate of the individual: order was restored;  Pym was rediscovered. However, for her success came too late,  and she did not have long to enjoy the fruits of this triumph as she died of cancer in 1980.

Our Student Loans Or About Art And Culture

As a student of Art History, I landed a perfect job at the university art library. There I was surrounded by precious art books, and was even allowed to check them out. But the main attraction in that library were the other women who worked there.

The three librarians were, then, recent immigrants from Bucharest Romania. They seemed much older to me, but I guess they were only in their early forties. Elegantly dressed and tastefully made-up, in my eyes they were beautiful and glamorous.

They were also erudite and clever, spoke several languages and were well versed in all forms of art.   It was clear that they came from a highly sophisticated background, and were used to a richer life. It was the mid-seventies, Israel was a young country (less than 30 year old) with few resources, relatively short artistic tradtion, and limited access to real culture.

They spoke longingly about the concerts, the plays, the operas and the ballets which they enjoyed, almost for free, in their old country. I was very impressed, and even jealous, when they told me that in Bucharest they went out almost every night.

Even after they arrived to Haifa, my  provincial home town, they kept up their cultural persuits. They were critical of course of the inferior quality and the high cost of our local culture. But they still attended every performance and travelled to all the exhibitions at the museums in Israel.

 Their commitment to art and culture beguilled me; going home I repeated the librarians' stories to my husband Tzvi who became increasingly impatient with me. Soon I noticed that he had stopped listening whenever I started talking about the three refined ladies of the library. At first I didn’t understand why and couldn't see what bothered him. Their life style was for me a source of inspiration, and I wanted him to hear all the details.

 But then I realized that he disliked, what he perceived as, my hero worshipping, and was worried that the more I talked about life so rich with art and culture, the more dissatisfied I would become with our own reality. At that point we were both students and had no extra money at all, so consuming art or culture was out of the question.

But he had an idea: when we got our student loans Tzvi suggested that we would  use that money to go to Italy for the summer. He wanted me to see up close those works of art which I had only seen in my art books. So we consulted my text book, the Janson's History of Art: The Western Tradition and made a plan.

At that time Italy was still very inexpensive, and we ended up spending less than 300$ for a whole month (even back then it wasn't much). We hitch hiked our way across the country, slept in campsites, and got fresh food at the markets. It was a wonderful summer and an opportunity to taste life rich with art and culture.

Whenever we entered a museum, or a church, Tzvi reminded me to take my time and see "everything.” In the meantime he usually walked around for a short while and then sat down comfortably gazing at one object.

Tzvi was right, we couldn't find a more educational use for our students loans.

 P.S. This is a link to a post about our summer in Italy back in the seventies

http://redroom.com/member/orna-b-raz/blog/when-in-rome-do-as-the-romans-...