Liu Feng

Editor's Note:

Yang Xianyi, a renowned translator of Chinese and Western literature masterworks, passed away on November 23, 2009. Yang introduced A Dream of Red Mansions, Records of the Historian and some of Lu Xun's stories to the West, and was also the first to render The Odyssey into Chinese prose from the ancient Greek original. Many saw him as China's last great translator. Global Times (GT) reporter Chen Chenchen recently talked to Liu Feng (Liu), editor-in-chief at the Yilin Press, one of China's prestigious publishing houses engaging in foreign literature publication, on China's "post-era of great translators."

GT: China's modern colleges have produced many outstanding PhDs of translation studies. Why do some claim that Yang's death means the end of the era of great translators?

Liu: It's true that today we have many good translators, but not great translators.

In the 1940s, Zhu Shenghao (1912- 44) translated 37 of Shakespeare's plays, using only a very shabby dictionary. Shakespeare's works cover many differ-ent fields, and that dictionary could not solve all the problems. Therefore, even though Zhu made a few mistakes, we choose to ignore them.

Some criticize Zhu for translating Shakespeare's couplets into prose. However, if we divide that prose up, we get beautiful poems. In comparison, the so-called verses by some translators, if linked up, are not poetry at all.

The Chinese language emphasizes linguistic rhythm and cadence, not just visual effect. It does not just delight the eye, but appeals to the ear. In such a sense, no one has yet surpassed Zhu.

It's hard to find enthusiastic translators who are as loyal to the translation as the older generation. Fu Lei (1908- 66) regarded translation as his life. His translations of Balzac's and Rolland's works were so.

Though he translated the two writers' works into a similar style, Fu was still a great translator. His grasp and apprehension of the Chinese language was so profound that people nowadays can hardly achieve his height and depth.

During the period of the Republic of China (1912-49), there was a batch of great translators who had extraordinary abilities in both Chinese and foreign languages. Gu Hongming (1857-1928), Lin Yutang (1895-1976), Lao She (1899- 1976) – all of them were able to write directly in English.

However those having keen discernment today are often not good at foreign languages. This is largely why great translators are absent here today – a great translator is often a good writer at the same time.

GT: Is this also related to China's current English teaching methods?

Liu: Yes. Currently, kids start to learn English from the third grade in elementary school, or even in kindergarden. But the English education actually turns out to be a failure. Many college students' English is still terrible, and that's not the students' fault.

Our English education is essentially test-oriented from the very beginning. A language deserves polishing and refining; it's not for crammed teaching or learning.

Existing education methods actually peel off the fun of learning a language. A language is a beautiful being with a life of its own. Today, some of our students are probably able to speak excellent English, but their linguistic refinement is still missing.

Translation calls for a grasp of both languages. Today, even our understanding of Chinese is problematic. The great translators of the past had deeply studied Chinese since a young age.

Today, many college students even have trouble in writing a simple article in Chinese. Under such circumstances, how can we expect the appearance of great translators?

GT: This has something to do with the flippant atmosphere of the present Chinese society.

Liu: I assume that, too. I like US translator and poet Sam Hamill. I came across with his Tao Te Ching: A New Translation in Paris. That's the best version I'd ever read. I bought a copy, and wrote to him later on.

I found in his replies that he had resigned from his job as a teacher in a college, and lived in a remote forested mountain.

He had no fridge, no TV set, and translated China's poems in Tang Dynasty (618-907) one word by another in front of an oil lamp. He said he wanted to recapture the artistic conception of ancient Chinese literature by living in the way the ancient Chinese masters did.

His translation language is quite simple. For example, two of Tang Dynasty poet Li Bai's verses were translated as "We sit together, the mountain and me, until only the mountain remains." Some Chinese scholars consider the translation not accurate enough.

However, in my perspective, the spirit delivered in this translation is in exact accordance with China's ancient philosophy concerning the relationship between human and the nature. There's not one single esoteric word in his translation, but the artistic level is unparalleled.

In contrast, the atmosphere in China is flippant, not only the literary translation, but also literary creation. Reform and opening-up has been practiced for just three decades, and the Chinese nation is still obsessed with material enjoyment, whereas people in the West have a strong demand for high level cultural creation and consumption.

I noticed later that many US poets quoted Hamill when they mentioned Li Bai.

China has too many missed lessons to make up. That's why huge volumes of Western theoretical and academic books were suddenly introduced into China in the early 1980s.

China needs nourishment and fresh air from the external world. Along with economic growth and enhancing living standards, people need cultural life, too. However, the emerging Internet seems to have dragged the Chinese back to materialism.

It's problematic when a population is chasing after material enjoyment. Many Westerners enjoy high living standards, and have returned to plain mental life. They need high-level culture in their spare time. Therefore, the translation of imported literature has to be good.

In the contrary, anxiety can be smelled everywhere in China. Online, there's a batch of translators. They may translate the transcript of a US show that has just been broadcast, or translate a new foreign bestseller through collaborative efforts before the real version comes out. However, that's just a product of entertainment consumption.

GT: Without excellent translators, how can China's literature be effectively introduced to foreign readers?

Liu: Some Chinese may feel at a loss when learning that Chinese classics are barely known among Westerners. This is related to not only translation problems, but also cultural differences.

Take Shakespeare, again. According to Pauline Kiernan's book Filthy Shakespeare: Shakespeare's Most Outrageous Sexual Puns published in 2007, some readers nowadays merely see half of Shakespeare.

The language in his great works is full of puns with sexual implications. That's why so many people went to watch his dramas in theaters and rocked with laughter at that time. The author thus discovered another funny version of Shakespeare.

So many decades have passed, but many readers today still have sympathetic responses to Shakespeare's works. They may have different interpretations of him, but all of them feel in heart that they understand Shakespeare.

In contrast, Chinese classic literature is not that easy to understand. Chinese may get it through their native language. However, without a certain knowledge of Chinese history and customs, foreign readers will probably find it hard to follow the book in translation.

The best way to translate Chinese books, say into English, is to let a native English translator work with a Chinese partner.

The translator had better understand a little bit of Chinese and have his own literary background. He needs to write in literary language in translation. Meanwhile, the Chinese cooperator makes sure that the original meanings are not missing.

Normally, a good translation ought to be accomplished by a native speaker of the target language. Therefore, in the future, Chinese translators may need to make more effort in translating foreign literature into Chinese.