Wednesday, February 20, 2008

The Thracian Filly

So I have decided to translate three Ancient Greek poems about love. This is risky as hundreds of people have tried their hand at translating Ancient Greek poetry. Dozens of attempts I have read, and so far all seem to strike me as having one of two major errors: Either they stay too close to the wording of the original -which in English renders for example Sappho's poetry into an bizzare jumble of words- or else they try to faithfully portray the structure and style of the original Greek, thus needing to use strange English words and forms. I have translated two poems by the same man and one by a woman. Today I post two very short poems written by the poet Anacreon, who is one of the nine great lyric poets, famous for his cynical words and often mocking style. This is the first poem:

The Rough-looking Girl

Now blond Love tosses me a purple ball
and asks me to play catch with this rough-looking girl
But she looks askance at my grey hair, and
-she must have lived in Lesbos!-
throws her own ball to - another girl

The original poem says nothing about a rough-looking girl. It says "motley-sandalled girl".
It also says "white hair", not gray. It says "she must come from well-built Lesbos" not "she must have lived in Lesbos". It is the opinion of quite a few critics that unless you translate more faithfully you are guilty of writing a poem whose only relation to the original is the choice of subject matter. But I beg to differ. To me "motley-sandalled girl" suggests a girl whose sandals have been torn and patched many times, i.e an active girl, a girl who plays tough games with the boys , who is sloppy, not delicate, headstrong. Retaining "motley-sandalled" does not convey any of this to the modern reader whereas rough-looking might. Speaking of white hair makes it look as if the writer was a paedophile since only people close to 60 get white hair nowadays; but at an age where the average life expectancy was close to 40 a 30-year-old could well have had white hair! And "well-built" today conveys nothing to the readers; better to leave Lesbos (which does have meaning to them) alone and merely connect it to the girl.

The second poem Anacreon wrote about this Thracian girl he fell for:

The Thracian Filly

Thracian filly, why do you avoid me and
look at me out of the corner of your eye?
You think I'm not good enough a man?

You should know; I could harness you tight
and make you sweat and pant and come
by both ways to the end of the road.

But for now, you prance on the prairie
and mocking me you giggle and play
because you have no able rider to mount you.


Compare if you will the translation of this same poem in the wikipedia entry for Anacreon.
The first and last parts are rather similar in meaning if not in style or art quality ; )
But the middle portion is very different. What does the literal translation "turn you at both ends of the road" or attempts (like in Headlam's version) to somehow alter it yet keep it mean to the modern reader? Nothing. It is not possible to connect the dots. But what Anacreon is doing is making an allusion to chariot races, where the horse had to turn on both ends of the stadium. And chariot racing was not a gentle sport. The horses were driven hard and whipped. And the term "both ends of the road" has significance which is lost on the modern reader, meaning as it does both the vagina and the anus. (Thankfully "come" has a double meaning in Modern English which accomodates well the double meaning of "bring" in ancient Greek; a bit of luck there!)
The poem does not wish to imply the man controls or "handles" the girl; it is explicitly -to the point of vulgarity- about sex. "I could fuck you both ways hard and you'd enjoy it" is what the writer is saying. The poem is both erotic/aggressive and indignant/defensive: it conveys desire, frustration, indignation, anger, regret and even insecurity all at once. That's why it is a classic. To deprive it of the explicit nature of the impotent lust the writer feels is to diminish it.
Of course a Victorian writer like Headlam cannot be expected to be so direct. But I have no patience with the modern translators who in the name of faithfullness promptly avoid the sexual aspect. Perhaps I should attribute it to a reverential self-censorship? Mozart once said that he avoided mythological themes because "those Ancients, they are always portrayed so stiff, as if they used to shit marble". Well said maestro!

No comments: