The purpose of this case study, which relates to the description of Mörike’s poetry in 2.5.1, is to show how a reading of Wittgenstein can influence the process of translation by opening up possibilities. In 2.5.1, I offered an account of Mörike influenced by Wittgenstein’s stress on description. Here I use Wittgenstein’s accounts of language and the tools of the PI to show how being reflective about practice can change practice. As Baker (2004:34) has noted: ‘Conscious analogies and comparisons are useful tools for curing diseases of the intellect, whereas unconscious ones generate insoluble problems by exercising an imperceptible tyranny over our thinking’. Wittgenstein writes to change the way that people think, by making things clear (PI p.4) and – given that translation involves thinking – his work can change the way that people translate. His method involves suggesting analogies that allow the reader to realise that if something is true of one situation then it may be true of others, thus undermining preconceived ideas (PI 1) and giving us conscious analogies and comparisons. What I write here is also analogical, because I trace a link between the grammatical investigations of Wittgenstein and the task of the translator. If Wittgenstein is right about language, then this has consequences for the translator: the story told in the PI enables him or her to find different ways of expression, as Kerr (1988:170) claims is the case for the theologian who reads Wittgenstein. Wittgenstein’s philosophy becomes a useful translation tool – and his notions become useful translation tools – through direct application.
A reading of Wittgenstein shows that words are things with which we operate (PI 1) rather than entities to which meaning adheres, which allows interesting questions to be asked about translation, in a way that may be unlikely outside a reading of Wittgenstein. How could a German poem written in the nineteenth century be expressed in the voice of a contemporary English-speaker? How could it be rewritten as a song, using rhythm and rhyme for poetic effect? How could it be placed in dialogue with other poems, songs, figures? What happens if Wittgenstein’s contention that meaning is a physiognomy (PI 568) is taken seriously? Translation becomes an exercise in anthropology, forsaking the crystalline beauty of the linguistic transfer of meaning (T-LP 3.343) for the rough ground of the everyday world of transaction (PI 107). Robinson (2003:112), discussing Wittgenstein’s instruction to look for meaning in use (PI 43), asserts that a ‘person-centred approach to any text, language or culture will always be more productive than a
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focus on abstract linguistic structures or cultural conventions’. What would the people in Mörike’s poems – both the characters and the narratorial voices – say in translation? How could Mörike still speak through them? Bell (2011:215) describes how ‘the literary translator is always, as it were, playing a part like an actor, trying his or her hardest to become the author of the original’. Wittgensteinian notions, such as the language-game, may help the translator do this. Above all, they offer a rationale for doing this. As argued in Chapter 1, the rationale for practices comes from outside the practice.
I give ten remarks derived from my own translations of the poem discussed as (54) in 2.5.1, ‘Ein Stündlein wohl vor Tag’ (Mörike 1975:31). The translations are part of a larger project of translating Mörike’s poetry for a projected anthology, using Wittgenstein to drive the renderings. Considerations of space prevent the use of other material from this project.
(i)
I take Wittgenstein’s account of language to indicate that the language-game of translation is possible, because meaning is not just something that goes on in the head (PI 693) but is to be understood by looking at interaction: between individuals, between communities, between the individual and the community. As discussed in 3.2, we can translate because justification consists in appealing to something independent (PI 265). At the very least, for example, the ST can be glossed, as in (54), providing what Scott (2000:149) calls the ‘negative function’ of signalling to the reader which sense of a word is meant where one or more semantic renderings are available: the word ‘weh’ in line 11 of (54), for example, is glossed to signify ‘alas’ rather than ‘hurt’. Glosses are a valuable aid to study, but fall short of literary translation, where I take it as axiomatic that the TT must be able to stand by itself, so that it can play a similar role in the TL to the one the ST plays in the SL (Z 155). Literary translation involves playing a game with the gloss, so that use can be maintained (PI 43) by seeking strategies to enable the same language-games to be played in the TT as in the ST (Gledhill 2007:5). Text (94) represents one translation of (54).
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(94)
AN HOUR BEFORE THE DAY In deepest sleep I lay,
an hour before the day:
and, as I slept, from the nearby tree a swallow sang a song to me, an hour before the day. ‘Now listen to what I say! Your love has gone astray. And while I sing, as swallows do, he holds a girl who is not you, an hour before the day.’ Oh no, what’s that you say? My swallow, go away!
Before your singing from the tree I’d dreamed of love and loyalty, an hour before the day.
I was interested in seeing whether the formalism of the ST could be recreated in translation. I therefore decided to use full rhyme and the iambic metre and complex rhyme scheme of the ST, i.e. [(aA¹BbA¹) (A²accA¹) (A²aBbA¹)]. Within this constraint, which preserves the song form (such as the refrain), I chose to write an English that did not twist itself to produce rhymed line endings, and that evoked the form of life of somebody moving from security to disillusionment before day has even begun. What I did not maintain were the three diminutives in the ST formed by the use of the suffix -lein, because using an analogous technique seemed archaic in English, such as adding the suffix ‘–let’; so Schwäblein, ‘the little swallow’ in line 4 of the ST becomes ‘swallow’, not ‘swallowlet’, although I was able to compensate by having the protagonist call it ‘my swallow’. It is a poem that I intend to be able to work by itself through its poetic effects, without the ST necessarily being placed alongside it, a poem that could be set to music and sung by a contemporary singer such as Jenkins, as discussed in 2.5.1.
(ii)
The PI shows that there are many ways of approaching problems: hence its warning against doctrine (PI 109) and its stress on the particular case (PI 66). Many translators do, however, translate according to a single strategy that precedes looking
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at the text (cf. Jerome, 2004). An approach to translation after Wittgenstein would by contrast examine the ST’s meaning by looking at its form and responding to that. A translator might therefore bring a variety of strategies to his or her rendering. In line 11, for example, I refrain from translating ‘O weh’ as ‘alas’ or ‘oh woe’, and use the expression ‘oh no’, which seems to me to be what somebody would say in the twenty-first century when faced with the collapse of his or her world. I do, however, retain the refrain (in contrast to (96) below) because of the song form: people may not speak with refrains, but they still sing with them.
(iii)
Using Wittgenstein frees the translator from the dualistic paradigm identified by Berman (2004:237) as a cause of failed literary translation, as discussed in 3.1. Raleigh Whitinger (2005:xix), for example, describing his translation of Mörike, writes of being in the ‘uncomfortable position’ of ‘having to produce English equivalents of German verse’. His renderings in my opinion parody the ST, and it is hard not to see the search for perfect transfer at all costs as the cause of this. An example is (96), which renders the opening of Mörike’s poem ‘Der Feuerreiter’ (‘The Fire Rider’) (2005:19), with the ST as (95) (Mörike 1975:62).
(95)
Sehet ihr am Fensterlein see you at-the small-window Dort die rote Mütze wieder? there the red cap again Nicht geheuer muß es sein, not normal must it be
Denn er geht schon auf und nieder. for he goes already up and down
(96)
See you at yon window small There again, the red cap gleaming? See it rise, now see it fall,
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Whitinger’s translation deforms the English language – the expression ‘’tis seeming’ in line 4, for example, is ungrammatical. It is therefore impossible to see it as a representation of the ST, which does not deform the German language.
Translation after Wittgenstein is not a matter of seeking equivalences but a literary activity. The fly is freed from the fly-bottle (PI 309) when the translator is liberated from the false picture of translation being about moving meaning from one place to another. I am not transferring Mörike to English. If that were what was desired, it might be better to read English poetry contemporary with Mörike, such as Wordsworth, following Douglas Hofstadter (1979:380). To translate Mörike involves recreating the ST, not attempting to clone it.
(iv)
A translation, to be identified as such, must be taken as standing in some sort of a relationship to the ST. In Wittgenstein’s terms, this relationship is that the TT must be a surveyable representation of the ST. The surveyable representation (PI 122), as discussed in 2.1, clarifies something to an audience by making connections. Moyal-Sharrock (2009:165) views literary works as surveyable representations and her theory can be extended to literary translations. The TT (94) was written to be a surveyable representation of the ST (54), a relationship that could be made clear by the way the poem is presented, for example, in a bilingual edition, as considered further in 4.3. Here I note that by writing in order to produce a surveyable representation, Wittgenstein’s notion becomes a tool.
(v)
The speaking of a language ‘is part of an activity, or of a form of life’ (PI 23), which implies that the translator after Wittgenstein would see himself or herself as a translator of texts, rather than of meaning, because meaning does not exist outside the text as a form of life. Sentences, words and paragraphs must be seen in context, both the immediate context and the context of the whole language. The translator, like Wittgenstein, is engaged in a series of grammatical investigations, looking at the pragmatics of the ST and the pragmatics of what he or she writes in response, without having to translate out of a language of ideas. The poem given as (97), for example, can be taken as a translation of (54) because it maintains key aspects of the ST, such as the betrayed lover or the perceived dawning of day; as
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well as formal aspects such as rhyme, although to a different scheme; the swallow is referred to in the title and its prophetic role is paralleled in the figure of Mike. The setting is contemporary – for example, the reference to getting a lift in line 1, or to the spiking of drinks in line 9.
(97)
HARD TO SWALLOW rang Mike for a lift at 6 who said OK but that Rick had left with some girl so I rang Rick at 6.30 thinking back to the party thought he’d seemed shifty dumped Rick at 6.45 got a lift in with Mike
even got to wondering if my drink had been spiked threw up at 7
(vi)
Because the translator after Wittgenstein is not attempting to find equivalences, many different translations of any text are possible. Baker (2004:34) sees any surveyable representation as ‘one of many possible orders, not the order’. (The consequence is not, however, that anything goes, given Wittgenstein’s insistence in PI 9 that we must respect how things are.) Text (98) is another possible order, which places the ST in dialogue with the world of contemporary Symphonic Metal, as considered in 2.5.1.
(98)
WHAT THE RAVEN SANG
You’ll call it cliché if I say there was a raven listening to Within Temptation
from outside the window as I lay in bed getting round to wondering if the undead have to leave for work at seven.
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began to sing along to Within Temptation
about somebody slipping away. You didn’t text back, an hour before I left for work.
I wish I could believe in heaven.
Why does fate make us suffer? At seven I left for work, gave in to temptation
and called on you. You were still in the park. You’ll be in the park forever. I came back. Couldn’t you resist this temptation?
Symphonic Metal is suggested by the referencing in lines 2, 7 and 11 of the song ‘What Have You Done’ by Within Temptation (2007), and by the intertextual reference in the title and lines 1 and 6 to the talking raven in the poem ‘The Raven’ by Poe (2003:69-76); the talking swallow, a bird that symbolises the world of the fairy-story, becomes a symbol of the Gothic world of Within Temptation. The TT is a poem in dialogue, just as the ST is in dialogue with the Volkslied and the Tagelied.
(vii)
For Wittgenstein, meaning is a physiognomy (PI 586); it is in the form not in the Forms. Translation is therefore not a scientific activity. My translation of Mörike is my Mörike, not an equivalent of Mörike or the definitive Mörike, just as Meredith McKinney (2005:59), discussing her translation of Sei Shônagon’s The Pillow Book, refers to ‘my Sei Shônagon’, recognising that other Sei Shônagons exist. Winch (2008) applies Wittgensteinian methods to show that the humanities do not function through correspondence to objective facts, but through agreement on what could be held to be true. We agree to call something a translation, just as we agree to call something a theory in literature. The translations I write are to be located within a tradition of writing TL poems that replace SL poems (Z 698).
Text (99) is a free verse translation of the very formal ST.
(99)