How does one conduct an analysis of translation of a literary work without actually just analyzing the work itself? Another good question: how does one analyze the worth of a translation if one is not fluent in the original language being translated? The answer is simple: comparing existing translations to determine which can be deemed more appropriate or suitable for a specific audience. To put it plainly: is an Anne Carson translation of an ancient Greek tragedy more suitable to a modern English-speaking audience than other existing translations or not?
Aphrodite, as you probably know, is the Greek goddess of love and passion. She is usually presented as quite beautiful and often as quite vain. Aphrodite also is awarded the opening monologue in Euripides’ play Hippolytus. The opening monologue of an ancient Greek drama is of extraordinary importance as it is often the only background information one is going to get. In this particular instance, Aphrodite is no mere narrator, but situates herself as an active participant in the events to follow. Conveying the full sense of psychology of the goddess thus becomes of vital importance. Fortunately, it also provides the perfect opportunity to offer evidence of what makes Anne Carson’s translation of this particular speech in this particular play stand out as an illustration of her powers of translation at large. First, let’s look at a translation that attempts to maintain the elevated prose one expects from a Greek drama:
Aphrodite:
“Wide o'er man my realm extends, and proud the name that I, the goddess Cypris, bear, both in heaven's courts and 'mongst all those who dwell within the limits of the sea and the bounds of Atlas, beholding the sun-god's light; those that respect my power I advance to honour, but bring to ruin all who vaunt themselves at me.”
This translation is more than serviceable, but in its attempt to replicate a kind of higher status of speech, it can become problematic for many readers. Those “o’ers” and “’mongst” may sound fine on the stage when acted by professionals, but they are not particularly conducive to the study of the play as a text that must read. This stands in stark comparison to another translation:
Aphrodite:
“I am Aphrodite.
A goddess!
Also called Cypris.
A great goddess among the mortals, as well as throughout the heavens.
Of those mortals who look upon the light of the sun and who live between the very edges of the East, the Black Sea and the farthest ends of the West, the great Pillars of Atlas, of all those of them who respect my power, I, respect them, also.
But those of them who treat me with disrespect, them, I crush and destroy!”
Although presented as verse rather that taking the form of prose, this is much closer to what one would want to study if coming to the play not as an audience member, but a student reading the play as a text. It is simple and clear and covers exactly the same message and concept as the first example. Both forward the basic idea that Aphrodite is pretty full of herself. As her speech continues, this psychological profile will be of utmost importance to not just her speech, but the action that is carried out on stage. While there is nothing substantially wrong with the first example, there seems little point in arguing that the second translation is more accessible to the modern reader. And one would be tempted to make a determination that this is really all one requires. But before making that decision, here is yet another example that offers a significant divergence:
Aphrodite:
“Mighty and of high renown, among mortals and in heaven alike, I am called the goddess Aphrodite. Of all those who dwell between the Euxine Sea and the Pillars of Atlas and look on the light of the sun, I honor those who reverence my power, but I lay low all those who think proud thoughts against me. For in the gods as well one finds this trait: they enjoy receiving honor from mortals.”
Here is an example of a translation that seeks to just supply the fact. It is not really interested in adorning the factual narrative with poetry. While it does still offer some insight into the psyche of Aphrodite, it does so in a sterile fashion that is in line with the focus of its narrative approach. From the perspective of study as a text, this translation may be preferable to that immediately above. If the student is merely looking for an efficient text to follow the events and keep track of the characters, this one could be the preferred way to go. But now let’s compare all of these examples to Anne Carson’s translation of the exact same passage, keeping in mind that this example is quite representative of her style overall and throughout her body of translated works.
Aphrodite:
“You know who I am. You know my naked power.
I am called Aphrodite! Here and in heaven.
All who dwell between the Black Sea and the Atlantic,
Seeing the light of the sun—
All who bow to my power—I treat with respect.
But if they think proud thoughts at me
I bring them down.”
This is what Carson does with translation of ancient texts. She situates them within a modern vernacular that is not of its times. This not an Aphrodite speaking as a person of the late 20th century or the early 21st century, but it is more immediate. The psychological profile is right there bubbling on the surface right from the opening line. One would almost have to try to fail to grasp that this is a scheming goddess who may, in fact, be leaning a little toward the psychotic. That same aspect of her personality is also there in the previous examples, but to a different degree and framed in a different way. Does that mean this is the ideal translation of the play for everybody? Absolutely not. There is poetry here and, as discussed, those wanting to avoid the poetry and just learn the facts would likely be better off with the third example. Does this translation carry the same gravitas inspired by archaic language as the first example? Obviously it does not and so those wanting the experience of Greek drama in its conventional historical trappings will likely prefer that opening example.
Carson’s translations are not for everyone, but then translations at their best are not supposed to be for everyone. The closest that any come to being suitable for every kind of reader is the third one, but while one gets all the necessary information there, the experience is not totally complete. Lacking the poetry, the facts exist outside their literary intent. The translation of Carson which essentially all track along this same methodology are exciting and immediate and poetic and filled with the factual information necessary. But they also stand as proof that every translation is an interpretive act. And, by definition, interpretation is not intended to be enjoyed, understood and accepted universally.
