'comme le cygne trouble l'eau'
La chanson de la bohémienne avait troublé la rêverie de Gringoire, mais comme le cygne trouble l'eau. Il l'écoutait avec une sorte de ravissement et d'oubli de toute chose. C'était depuis plusieurs heures le premier moment où il ne se sentît pas souffrir.
Ce moment fut court.
—Victor Hugo, Notre-Dame de Paris
(1831)
The gypsy's song had disturbed Gringoire's daydream but only as a swan disturbs the water. He heard it in a sort of rapture, oblivious of all else. It was the first time in several hours that he had not felt he was suffering.
But not for long.
—Victor Hugo, Notre-Dame of Paris
(1831) (trans. John Sturrock 1978)
I'm reading the Sturrock translation, but here's an 1888 translation by Isabel Florence Hapgood:
ReplyDelete"The gypsy's song had disturbed Gringoire's revery as the swan disturbs the water. He listened in a sort of rapture, and forgetfulness of everything. It was the first moment in the course of many hours when he did not feel that he suffered.
"The moment was brief."
(This 19th-century translation is more literal, yet omits the beautiful "but"—mais—which interrupts the simile, causes me to linger, and is, I think, a key to its beauty.)
I actually preferred the more literal translation (1888). "But not for long" struck me as too colloquial and jarring. "The moment was brief" drew attention back to the gypsy's song while at the same time reminding the reader that rapture--in fact, removal from suffering generally--is always for the moment in this world.
ReplyDeleteAnd insofar as this is exactly what Hugo wrote, I congratulate myself for better appreciating the artist's work. I win.
You and your contests. Regarding the last sentence, I also prefer Hapgood's translation. In fact Sturrock's doesn't even seem to flow grammatically from the preceding paragraph. I agree it's jarring!
ReplyDeleteBut Hapgood's seems like the kind of word-by-word translation I would have produced with the help of a dictionary and conjugation book. Therefore I am surprised she deliberately ignored the word mais in the first sentence. Without that qualifying "but" I think I would have skimmed right past, and even if life would have gone on the same as before, this blog would have been a little less rich.
Now I'm off to write a poem about grown men weeping into their Larousses.
Ah, Matt, I misunderstood (I lose). I thought you were talking about that last sentence. I see what you were saying now, and I agree with you completely. Which is to say: you win.
ReplyDelete