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Originally Posted by truncated

I'm certainly not averse to reading works in translation in general; my point, which seems to have been lost here, is that while they can be 'enlightening' in a fashion, they are misrepresentative of the original intention of the author. While I may enjoy Guerney's talents of composition, they are entirely independent of the novel's 'value' in its original, unadulterated form.

but ms. via negativa, while i concur with you to an extent, do you realize that without translation you'd get nothing, nothing at all, just the void? you're pointing towards a general problem of language, the problem of semantics, the need for hermeneutics, the gap that cannot be bridged between a mind and another, regardless of language, upon which countless postmoderns found their many solipsisms and nihilisms.

take EL QUIJOTE, or if you prefer the english tradition, HAMLET. do you think that you read it at all in the same way as an elizabethan, or a renaissance spaniard? in order to have "faithfulness" to the text you can only be shakespeare, or cervantes. and then!! is that what you wanted to write? or would you correct endlessly?

a different approach is to consider the text not as an "expression" of the author but as an object in itself, something like a rock, or a fossil that comes to life only inside each person's mind. and in that sense the "author" is also irrelevant, as are any intentions or desires on her part. there is only the text and you may do with it as you might.

but the truth, the truth is something in between, isn't it?

Originally Posted by truncated

See above. I maintain that the translation and the original work exist, while perhaps in tandem and with their own respective merits, separately from one another.

yes, of course, but the text itself, if you are looking for an "original," is also as elusive, if not so obviously so. it's a matter of degrees-- how far you are willing to go is a choice you have to make.

while i am positive that i'm not getting the whole deal when i read a work in translation, i do however approach it with joy. kinda like eating chinese food outside of china, or (in your case) thai food beyond thailand. is it to be shunned, bemoaned, despised? or enjoyed? i try to squeeze as much joy as i can out of life because, shit, i don't believe in the rewards of the afterlife-- it's now or never.

Originally Posted by truncated

They're examples, geek-boy. If you want to list every author in existence from 1000 B.C. on, have yourself a party.

well, i pointed out that your selection was limited because those are very well-chosen authors picked to support your claims. i mentioned ,with a similar strategy in mind, ancient books, because most of us have read them only in translation (unless you're a 3000-year old sanskrit speaker.) and i hope you have at least read one a few of those. you'd be missing out otherwise. (i'm sure you have as you present yourself as a well-read person).

Originally Posted by truncated

Again, you're missing the point. I do not summarily shun works in translation; I do, however, acknowledge that my 'interpretation,' whatever its worth, will be flawed, and traitorous to the original intent.

traduttore, traditore, i believe was coined by dante. it's a well known fact that translators must always chose, put in and leave out, betray in order to be faithful. this is no paradox. but then i brought up the whole problem of language and the "meaning" of the text before. we can't EVER get to the "original", whether it's the original papyrus or a 3rd-hand translation. still, whether in putting a book together or in translating one, there are serious differences in quality, and a good translation will manage to bring onboard a serious chunk of the original, which should not, cannot, be disregarded. (again the matter of degrees of-- separation?). limitations aside, reading should be fundamentally an instrument of joy, rather than tears (though some people can adeptly merge both). and again, i think the guerney translation is as joyful as a translation from an old russian book can get. which is why i read it in my hammock, even at the risk of falling on my ass (which is rather solid so i have no fear).

Originally Posted by truncated

To reiterate my point, while I can appreciate the capabilities of a good translator, I won't read a translated novel with the same PURPOSE in mind. To restrict my example to the current issue at hand, Gogol, I feel it fruitless and, to a point, detrimental, to deconstruct the technicalities of his writing, because it is not Gogol's writing I am deconstructing.

no, "deconstructing" perhaps is not a viable option here, but i think the irony of a description or the brilliance of a sequence of images can be transported by capable hands. there are more pleasures to be had with animals than taxidermy, don't you think?

Originally Posted by truncated

This does not preclude my enjoyment of his translated works on other, more superficial levels, but it does mean that I am ingesting a literary regurgitation, which, in the best of circumstances, is a diluted and presumptuous caricature of the essence of novel.

honey is a regurgitation, and yet it tastes better than chewed flowers. if your aim is to analyze and dissect, you must study russian and russian history and read endless biographies and texts. if you aim however is literary pleasure, i assure you, with guerney you put yourself in very capable hands, and until you haven't read it you shouldn't prejudge, or you'll be missing out some worthy delights, and not those of caricature.

amen. i have spoken. now stop making lame excuses and get the proper book.