Isn't He Adorable? : Thoughts on the Value of Translation

(photo by Makoto Kaku)

This afternoon I watched an NHK documentary on Donald Keene, a famous Japanologist who translated and analyzed a corpus of Japanese literature from ancient times to modern times.

He talked about how as a European literature major from Columbia university, he stumbled on Arthur Wiley's translation of "The Tale of Genji" at a  Times Square bookstore.

In his interview he described  "The Tale of Genji" as an escape to the uncertainties of reality.  The book was written simply for the sake of beauty and a beautiful society.  The moment defined the beginning of his career in Japanese literature.

I realized that his success stems from illuminating a part of the human experience that was unknown to the West. He had no competition because no one wanted to go to the wreckage of post-war Japan.

I'm REALLY jealous that he was able to live the life of a mind.   In many ways the life of a literary translator requires the mentality of an artist.  A computer could never translate literary text because translation isn't an algorithm that automatically converts one symbol to another. The first and foremost must communicate the feelings of the human condition.

I'm confused about how to express the relevance of the humanities.  Unlike Keene's career where communication and publication was heavily scrutinized, contemporary society has the opposite problem in that we are barraged with too much unfiltered information that it drowns out authoritative voices like Donald Keene.   The most popular person on the internet has the most credentials, not the person with the most comprehensive line of thought.

Personally I'm conflicted between getting a PhD versus finding an alternative path to study China.  I would have access to resources and connections to professional expertise on the humanities, but this resource is locked behind an ivory tower or digital subscription paywalls.  The alternative  is exploring the humanities without authoritative resources shaped by the internet.  How should this look like?

At least Donald Keene doesn't have to keep justifying the value of his work to the rest of society.  After the 2011 Tohoku earthquake, Keene renounced his US citizenship and moved to Japan.  I've never met Keene, but it's safe to say that he's one of the few rare people in the world that lived a passionate life.

 

The View of Failure in Conventional History

The narrative framework taught in American history classes must fit the American Dream narrative.  Work hard and you can live the dream, regardless of your background.

But what if the individual is unable to accomplish one's goals?  Or goes against American culture?  Focusing on the individual level, the American history narrative is a stark dichotomy.  You are either a success or failure in the American Dream.  No individual historical figure is admirable after failure.

Americans associate the inability to accomplish a feat or reach a state as a "failure."  Failure is a subject we admonish, but rarely sympathize with.  When we "fail" in this sense, we blame out own ability or lack of resources.  We rarely accept it, regardless of who or what is responsible.

Su Shi was a failure in this context.  The emperor sends Su Shi away as political exile for going against the Wang Anshi reforms.  Su shi is unable to prevent suffering of his people and the eventual fall of the Northern Song.

Yet within a decade after Su Shi's death, his legacy was still a threat to Emperor Huizong.

 

(Also my favorite emperor in Chinese history.)

Lin Yutang points out heaven could not forgive the Northern Song's treatment of Su Shi.  A thunderbolt shattered a stone steele containing Su Shi's name and opposition party members to the emperor in Wende Hall, the place where Huizong's  government convenes. Emperor Huizong commented, "His stone steele is destroyed, but these people are hard to forget!"

Su Shi was unique in that he was both poet and politician in comparison to American history.  He was able to express his worldview through political maneuvering and artistic human expression.

I hope as I continue to read Lin Yutong's work, he can show me why I should admire the failings of Su Shi.

 

Su of the Eastern Slope 蘇東坡

I've been on hiatus studying for a test that could not test me.  I'm back on my blog!

I have to put "The Dream of the Red Chamber" on hold for this man, Su Shi:

(Yuan Dynasty, Painted by Zhao Mengfu)

I recently bought the Chinese copy of Lin Yutang's "The Gay Genius:  The Biography of Su Dong Po" delivered from Taiwan.

I have many reasons for reading Su Shi, but before I make any sweeping statements about his life, please read this poem first:

(Emperor Huizong "draft cursive" 12th century)

No, please don't read the draft cursive.  Heck, I can barely read it.  Su Shi's poem is a reaction to a friend who could write this script.

Su Shi, Shi Cang-shu's "Hall of Drunken Ink" (1068)

All worry and woe in life begins

from learning to read and write---

be able to roughly mark your name

and then you should call it quits.

What point is there in cursive draft

that flaunts the spirit's speed?---

the blur in my eyes when I open a scroll

makes me ill at ease.

Yes, i too have been fond of it,

but always I laugh at myself;

how can we cure this affliction

as it shows itself in you?

You tell me that in doing this

you find a perfect joy,

mind's satisfaction, not distinct

from spirit's roaming free.

Just recently you built a hall

and named it "Drunken Ink,"

comparing this art to drinking wine

that melts anxieties.

I see now that Liu Zong-yuan

wrote something not untrue;

such affliction may crave dirt and ask

as if it were haute cuisine.

Still we may say that in this art

you have achieved the heights:

worn-out brushes pile by your walls

like little hills and knolls.

When the whim strikes, one swish of the hand

and a hundred sheets are gone:

in a fleeting moment a splendid steed

bestrides an entire land.

My own script takes shape to my mood,

I have no special technique:

the dots and lines just follow my hand,

it's a bother to try too hard.

Then tell me why in your critiques

I am singled out for praise,

isolated words an scraps of paper

all find themselves collected.

Your script may be properly judged

no lower than Zhong or Zhang;

on a lower level my own is still better

than that of Luo or Zhao.

You should no longer sit by the pool

and practice so ardently,

in the end just take all that writing silk

and use it to stuff a quilt.

Owen, Stephen. "The Ornaments of "Literati" Culture." An Anthology of Chinese Literature: Beginnings to 1911. New York: W.W. Norton, 1996. 640-41. Print.

During my darker, colder days of college, Su Shi knew the right words to speak to my soul.  His life by some standards may be seen as a "failure" because of his fall from political power.  Yet after a thousand years we remember him like an good old friend.

Lin Yutang puts it this way:  knowing a thousand year old dead guy isn't hard, you just need to write.  The living haven't finished telling their stories.  As the old saying goes, we can decide when the coffin shuts.