Martin Brown Ruud - An Essay Toward a History of Shakespeare in Norway
M >>
Martin Brown Ruud >> An Essay Toward a History of Shakespeare in Norway
Pages:
1 |
2 | 3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11
The _italicized_ passages show that the influence of Foersom was felt
in more than one scene. It would be easy to give other instances.
After all this, we need scarcely more than mention Lassen's
_Macbeth_[21] published in 1883. The usual brief note at the end of the
play gives the usual information that, out of regard for the purpose for
which the translation has been made, certain parts of the porter scene
and certain speeches by Malcolm in Act IV, Sc. 3 have been cut. Readers
will have no difficulty in picking them out.
[21. _Macbeth_. Tragedie af William Shakespeare. Oversat af
H. Lassen. Udgivet af Selskabet for Folkeoplysningens Fremme som
andet Tillaegshefte til _Folkevennen_ for 1883. Kristiania. Grondal
og Son.]
_Macbeth_ is, like all Lassen's work, dull and prosaic. Like his other
translations from Shakespeare, it has never become popular. The standard
translation in Norway is still the Foersom-Lembcke, a trifle
nationalized with Norwegian words and phrases whenever a new acting
version is to be prepared. And while it is not true that Lassen's
translations are merely norvagicized editions of the Danish, it is true
that they are often so little independent of them that they do not
deserve to supersede the work of Foersom and Lembcke.
G
Norwegian translations of Shakespeare cannot, thus far, be called
distinguished. There is no complete edition either in Riksmaal or
Landsmaal. A few sonnets, a play or two, a scrap of dialogue--Norway
has little Shakespeare translation of her own. Qualitatively, the case
is somewhat better. Several of the renderings we have considered are
extremely creditable, though none of them can be compared with the
best in Danish or Swedish. It is a grateful task, therefore, to call
attention to the translations by Christen Collin. They are not
numerous--only eleven short fragments published as illustrative material
in his school edition (English text) of _The Merchant of Venice_--[22]
but they are of notable quality, and they save the Riksmaal literature
from the reproach of surrendering completely to the Landsmaal the task
of turning Shakespeare into Norwegian. With the exception of a few lines
from _Macbeth_ and _Othello_, the selections are all from _The Merchant
of Venice_.
[22. _The Merchant of Venice_. Med Indledning og Anmaerkninger ved
Christen Collin. Kristiania. 1902. (This, of course, does not
include the translations of the sonnets referred to below.)]
A good part of Collin's success must be attributed to his intimate
familiarity with English. The fine nuances of the language do not escape
him, and he can use it not with precision merely but with audacity and
power. Long years of close and sympathetic association with the
literature of England has made English well-nigh a second mother tongue
to this fine and appreciative critic. But he is more than a critic. He
has more than a little of the true poet's insight and the true poet's
gift of song. All this has combined to give us a body of translations
which, for fine felicity, stand unrivalled in Dano-Norwegian. Many of
these have been prepared for lecture purposes and have never been
printed.[23] Only a few have been perpetuated in this text edition of
_The Merchant of Venice_. We shall discuss the edition itself below.
Our concern here is with the translations. We remember Lassen's and
Lembcke's opening of the fifth act. Collin is more successful than his
countryman.
_Lor_:
Hvor Maanen straaler! I en nat som denne,
da milde vindpust kyssed skovens traer
og alting var saa tyst, i slig en nat
Troilus kanske steg op paa Trojas mure
og stonned ud sin sjael mod Graekerteltene
hvor Cressida laa den nat.
_Jes_:
I slig en nat
kom Thisbe angstfuldt trippende over duggen,--
saa lovens skygge, for hun saa den selv,
og lob forskraekket bort.
_Lor_:
I slig en nat
stod Dido med en vidjekvist i haand
paa havets strand og vinkede AEneas
tilbage til Karthago.
_Jes_:
I slig en nat
Medea sanked urter som foryngede
den gamle AEsons liv.
_Lor_:
I slig en nat
stjal Jessica sig fra den rige Jode
med en forfloien elsker fra Venedig
og fandt i Belmont ly.
_Jes_:
I en saadan nat
svor ung Lorenzo at hun var ham kjaer
og stjal med mange eder hendes hjerte,
men ikke en var sand.
_Lor_:
I slig en nat
skjon Jessica, den lille heks, bagtalte
sin elsker og han--tilgav hende alt.
[23. I have seen these translations in the typewritten copies
which Professor Collin distributed among his students.]
"A translation of this passage," says Collin,[24] "can hardly be more
than an approximation, but its inadequacy will only emphasize the
beauty of the original." Nevertheless we have here more than a feeble
approximation. It is not equal to Shakespeare, but it is good Norwegian
poetry and as faithful as translation can or need be. It is difficult to
refrain from giving Portia's plea for mercy, but I shall give instead
Collin's striking rendering of Shylock's arraignment of Antonio:[25]
Signor Antonio, mangen en gang og tit
har paa Rialto torv I skjaeldt mig ud
for mine pengelaan og mine renter....
Jeg bar det med taalmodigt skuldertraek,
for taalmod er jo blit vor stammes merke.
I kalder mig en vantro, blodgrisk _hund_
og spytter paa min jodiske gaberdin--
hvorfor? for brug af hvad der er mit eget!
Nu synes det, I traenger til min hjaelp.
Nei virkelig? I kommer nu til mig
og siger: Shylock, laan os penge,--I,
som slaengte eders slim hen paa mit skjaeg
og satte foden paa mig, som I spaendte,
en kjoter fra Jer dor, I be'r om penge!
Hvad skal jeg svare vel? Skal jeg 'ke svare:
Har en hund penge? Er det muligt, at
en kjoter har tre tusinde dukater?
Eller skal jeg bukke dybt og i traelletone
med saenket rost og underdanig hvisken
formaele:
"Min herre, I spytted paa mig sidste onsdag,
en anden dag I spaendte mig, en tredje
I kaldte mig en hund; for al den artighed
jeg laaner Jer saa og saa mange penge?"
[24. Collin, _op. cit._, _Indledning_, XII.]
[25. Collin, _op. cit._, _Indledning_, XXVI. (_M. of V._, 1-3)]
It is to be regretted that Collin did not give us Shylock's still more
impassioned outburst to Salarino in Act III. He would have done it well.
It would be a gracious task to give more of this translator's work. It
is, slight though its quantity, a genuine contribution to the body of
excellent translation literature of the world. I shall quote but one
more passage, a few lines from _Macbeth_.[26]
"Det tyktes mig som horte jeg en rost;
Sov aldrig mer! Macbeth har myrdet sovnen,
den skyldfri sovn, som loser sorgens floke,
hvert daglivs dod, et bad for modig moie,
balsam for sjaelesaar og alnaturens
den sode efterret,--dog hovednaeringen
ved livets gjaestebud....
_Lady Macbeth_:
Hvad er det, du mener?
_Macbeth_:
"Sov aldrig mer," det skreg til hele huset.
Glarais har myrdet sovnen, derfor Cawdor
skal aldrig mer faa sovn,--Macbeth,
Macbeth skal aldrig mer faa sovn!"
[26. Collin, _op. cit._, _Indledning_, XXV. _Macbeth_ II, 1.]
H
We have hitherto discussed the Norwegian translations of Shakespeare in
almost exact chronological order. It has been possible to do this
because the plays have either been translated by a single man and issued
close together, as in the case of Hartvig Lassen, or they have appeared
separately from the hands of different translators and at widely
different periods. We come now, however, to a group of translations
which, although the work of different men and published independently
from 1901 to 1912, nevertheless belong together. They are all in
Landsmaal and they represent quite clearly an effort to enrich the
literature of the new dialect with translations from Shakespeare. To do
this successfully would, obviously, be a great gain. The Maalstraevere
would thereby prove the capacity of their tongue for the highest, most
exotic forms of literature. They would give to it, moreover, the
discipline which the translation of foreign classics could not fail to
afford. It was thus a renewal of the missionary spirit of Ivar Aasen.
And behind it all was the defiant feeling that Norwegians should have
Shakespeare in Norwegian, not in Danish or bastard Danish.
The spirit of these translations is obvious enough from the opening
sentence of Madhus' preface to his translation of _Macbeth_:[27]
"I should hardly have ventured to publish this first attempt at a
Norwegian translation of Shakespeare if competent men had not urged me
to do so." It is frankly declared to be the first Norwegian translation
of Shakespeare. Hauge and Lassen, to say nothing of the translator of
1818, are curtly dismissed from Norwegian literature. They belong to
Denmark. This might be true if it were not for the bland assumption
that nothing is really Norwegian except what is written in the dialect
of a particular group of Norwegians. The fundamental error of the
"Maalstraevere" is the inability to comprehend the simple fact that
language has no natural, instinctive connection with race. An American
born in America of Norwegian parents _may_, if his parents are energetic
and circumstances favorable, learn the tongue of his father and mother,
but his natural speech, the medium he uses easily, his real
mother-tongue, will be English. Will it be contended that this American
has lost anything in spiritual power or linguistic facility? Quite the
contrary. The use of Danish in Norway has had the unfortunate effect of
stirring up a bitter war between the two literary languages or the two
dialects of the same language, but it has imposed no bonds on the
literary or intellectual powers of a large part of the people, for the
simple reason that these people have long used the language as their
own. And because they live in Norway they have made the speech
Norwegian. Despite its Danish origin, Dano-Norwegian is today as truly
Norwegian as any other Norwegian dialect, and in its literary form it
is, in a sense, more Norwegian than the literary Landsmaal, for the
language of Bjornson has grown up gradually on Norwegian soil; the
language of Ivar Aasen is not yet acclimatized.
[27. William Shakespeare: _Macbeth_. I norsk Umskrift ved Olav
Madhus. Kristiania. 1901. H. Aschehoug & Co.]
For these reasons it will not do to let Madhus' calm assertion go
unchallenged. The fact is that to a large part of the Norwegian people
Lassen's translations represent merely a slightly Danicized form of
their own language, while to the same people the language of Madhus is
at least as foreign as Swedish. This is not the place for a discussion
of "Sprogstriden." We may give full recognition to Landsmaal without
subscribing to the creed of enthusiasts. And it is still easier to give
credit to the excellence of the Shakespeare translations in Landsmaal
without concerning ourselves with the partisanship of the translator.
What shall we say, then, of the _Macbeth_ of Olav Madhus?
First, that it is decidedly good. The tragedy of Macbeth is stark, grim,
stern, and the vigorous, resonant Norwegian fits admirably. There is
little opportunity, as in Aasen's selections from _Romeo and Juliet_ for
those unfortunate contrasts between the homespun of the modern dialect
and the exquisite silk and gossamer of the vocabulary of romance of
a "cultured language." Madhus has been successful in rendering into
Landsmaal scenes as different as the witch-scene, the porter-scene
(which Lassen omitted for fear it would contaminate the minds of school
children), the exquisite lines of the King and Banquo on their arrival
at Macbeth's castle, and Macbeth's last, tragic soliloquy when he learns
of the death of his queen.
Duncan and Banquo arrive at the castle of Macbeth and Duncan speaks
those lovely lines: "This castle has a pleasant seat," etc. Madhus
translates:
_Duncan_:
Ho hev eit fagert laegje, denne borgi,
og lufti lyar seg og gjer seg smeiki
aat vaare glade sansar.
_Banquo_:
Sumar-gjesten,
den tempel-kjaere svala, vitnar med,
at himlens ande blakrar smeikin her,
med di at ho so gjerne her vil byggje.
Det finst kje sule eller takskjeggs livd
og ikkje voll hell vigskar, der ei ho
hev hengt si lette seng og barne-vogge.
Der ho mest bur og braeer, hev eg merkt meg,
er lufti herleg.
This is as light and luminous as possible. Contrast it with the slow,
solemn tempo of the opening of Act I, Sc. 7--Macbeth's "If it were done
when 'tis done," etc.
Um det var gjort, naar d'er gjort, var det vael,
um det vart snart gjort; kunde loynmordsverke,
stengje og binde alle vonde fylgdir
og, med aa faa hurt honom, naa sitt maal,
so denne eine stoyten som maa til,
vart enden, alt, det siste som det fyrste
i tidi her--den havsens oyr og bode
me sit paa no--,--med live som kjem etter
det fekk daa vaage voni. Men i slikt
vert domen sagd alt her. Blodtankane,
me el, kjem vaksne att og piner oss,
som gav deim liv og fostra deim; og drykken,
som me hev blanda eiter i aat andre,
vert eingong uta miskunn bodin fram
av rettferds hand aat vaare eigne munnar.
The deep tones of a language born in mountains and along fjords finely
re-echo the dark broodings in Macbeth's soul.
Or take still another example, the witch-scene in Act IV. It opens in
Madhus' version:
_Fyrste Heks_:
Tri gong mjava brandut katt.
_Andre Heks_:
Tri og ein gong bust-svin peip.
_Tridje Heks_:
Val-ramn skrik. D'er tid, d'er tid.
_Fyrste Heks_:
Ring um gryta gjeng me tri;
sleng forgiftigt seid--mang i.
Gyrme-gro, som under stein
dagar tredive og ein
sveita eiter, lat og leid,
koke fyrst i vaaro seid.
_Alle_:
Tvifaldt trael og moda duble;
brand frase, seid buble!
_Andre Heks_:
Moyrkjot av ein myr-orm kald
so i gryta koke skal.
Odle-augo, skinnveng-haar,
hundetunge, froskelaar,
sleve-brodd, firfisle-svord,
ule-veng og lyngaal-spord
til eit seid som sinn kann rengje
hel-sodd-heitt seg saman mengje!
This is not only accurate; it is a decidedly successful imitation of the
movement of the original. Madhus has done a first-rate piece of work.
The language of witch-craft is as international as the language of
science. But only a poet can turn it to poetic use.
Not quite so successful is Macbeth's soliloquy when the death of Lady
Macbeth is announced to him:
Det skuld'ho drygt med.
Aat slikt eit ord var komi betre stund.--
"I morgo" og "i morgo" og "i morgo,"
slik sig det smaatt fram etter, dag for dag,
til siste ord i livsens sogubok;
og kvart "i gaar" hev daarer vegen lyst
til dust og daude.
It is difficult to say just where the fault lies, but the thing seems
uncouth, a trifle too colloquial and peasant-like. The fault may be the
translator's, but something must also be charged to his medium. The
passage in Shakespeare is simple but it breathes distinction. The
Landsmaal version is merely colloquial, even banal. One fine line
there is:
"til siste ord i livsens sogubok."
But the rest suggests too plainly the limitations of an uncultivated
speech.
In 1905 came a translation of _The Merchant of Venice_ by Madhus,[28]
and, uniform with it, a little book--_Soga um Kaupmannen i Venetia_ (The
Story of The Merchant of Venice) in which the action of the play is told
in simple prose. In the appendatory notes the translator acknowledges
his obligation to Arne Garborg--"Arne Garborg hev gjort mig framifraa
god hjelp, her som med _Macbeth_. Takk og aere hev han."
[28. William Shakespeare--_Kaupmannen i Venetia_. Paa Norsk ved
Olav Madhus. Oslo. 1905.]
What we have said of _Macbeth_ applies with no less force here. The
translation is more than merely creditable--it is distinctly good. And
certainly it is no small feat to have translated Shakespeare in all his
richness and fulness into what was only fifty years ago a rustic and
untrained dialect. It is the best answer possible to the charge often
made against Landsmaal that it is utterly unable to convey the subtle
thought of high and cosmopolitan culture. This was the indictment of
Bjornson,[29] of philologists like Torp,[30] and of a literary critic
like Hjalmar Christensen.[31] The last named speaks repeatedly of the
feebleness of Landsmaal when it swerves from its task of depicting
peasant life. His criticism of the poetry of Ivar Mortensen is one long
variation of this theme--the immaturity of Landsmaal. All of this is
true. A finished literary language, even when its roots go deep into a
spoken language, cannot be created in a day. It must be enriched and
elaborated, and it must gain flexibility from constant and varied use.
It is precisely this apprentice stage that Landsmaal is now in. The
finished "Kultursprache" will come in good time. No one who has read
Garborg will deny that it can convey the subtlest emotions; and Madhus'
translations of Shakespeare are further evidence of its possibilities.
[29. Bjornson: _Vort Sprog_.]
[30. Torp. _Samtiden_, Vol. XIX (1908), p. 408.]
[31. _Vor Literatur_.]
That Madhus does not measure up to his original will astonish no one
who knows Shakespeare translations in other languages. Even Tieck's
and Schlegel's German, or Hagberg's Swedish, or Foersom's Danish is no
substitute for Shakespeare. Whether or not Madhus measures up to these
is not for me to decide, but I feel very certain that he will not suffer
by comparison with the Danish versions by Wolff, Meisling, Wosemose, or
even Lembcke, or with the Norwegian versions of Hauge and Lassen. The
feeling that one gets in reading Madhus is not that he is uncouth, still
less inaccurate, but that in the presence of great imaginative richness
he becomes cold and barren. We felt it less in the tragedy of _Macbeth_,
where romantic color is absent; we feel it strongly in _The Merchant of
Venice_, where the richness of romance is instinct in every line. The
opening of the play offers a perfect illustration. In answer to
Antonio's complaint "In sooth I know not why I am so sad," etc, Salarino
replies in these stately and sounding lines:
Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There, where your argosies, with portly sail,--
Like signiors and rich burghers of the flood,
Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,--
Do overpeer the petty traffickers
That curt'sy to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
The picture becomes very much less stately in Norwegian folk-speech:
Paa storehave huskar hugen din,
der dine langferd-skip med staute segl
som hovdingar og herremenn paa sjo
i drusteferd, aa kalle, gagar seg
paa baara millom kraemarskutur smaa',
som nigjer aat deim og som helsar audmjukt
naar dei med vovne vengir framum stryk.
The last two lines are adequate, but the rest has too much the flavor of
Ole and Peer discussing the fate of their fishing-smacks. Somewhat more
successful is the translation of the opening of Act V, doubtless because
it is simpler, less full of remote and sophisticated imagery. By way of
comparison with Lassen and Collin, it may be interesting to have it at
hand.
_Lor_:
Ovfagert lyser maanen. Slik ei natt,
daa milde vindar kysste ljuve tre
so lindt at knapt dei susa, slik ei natt
steig Troilus upp paa Troja-murane
og sukka saali si til Greklands telt,
der Kressida laag den natti.
_Jes_:
Slik ei natt
gjekk Thisbe hugraedd yvi doggvaat voll
og loveskuggen saag fyrr lova kom;
og raedd ho der-fraa romde.
_Lor_:
Slik ei natt
stod Dido med ein siljutein i hand
paa villan strand og vinka venen sin
tilbake til Kartago.
_Jes_:
Slik ei natt
Medea trolldoms-urtir fann, til upp
aa yngje gamle AEson.
_Lor_:
Slik ei natt
stal Jessika seg ut fraa judens hus
og med ein fark til festarmann for av
so langt som hit til Belmont.
_Jes_:
Slik ei natt
svor ung Lorenso henne elskhugs eid
og hjarta hennar stal med fagre ord
som ikkje aatte sanning.
_Lor_:
Slik ei natt
leksa ven' Jessika som eit lite troll
upp for sin kjaerst, og han tilgav ho.
_Jes_:
I natteleik eg heldt nok ut med deg,
um ingin kom; men hyss, eg hoyrer stig.
But when Madhus turns from such flights of high poetry to low comedy,
his success is complete. It may be a long time before Landsmaal can
successfully render the mighty line of Marlowe, or the manifold music of
Shakespeare, but we should expect it to give with perfect verity the
language of the people. And when we read the scenes in which Lancelot
Gobbo figures, there is no doubt that here Landsmaal is at home. Note,
for example, Act II, Sc. 1:
"Samvite mitt vil visst ikkje hjelpe meg med aa rome fraa denne
juden, husbond min. Fenden stend her attum olbogen min og segjer til
meg: "Gobbo, Lanselot Gobbo; gode Lanselot, eller gode Gobbo, bruka
leggine; tak hyven; drag din veg." Samvite segjer: "nei, agta deg,
aerlige Gobbo," eller som fyr sagt: "aerlige Lanselot Gobbo, rom
ikkje; set deg mot roming med hael og taa!" Men fenden, den
stormodige, bed meg pakka meg; "fremad mars!" segjer fenden; "legg i
veg!" segjer fenden; "for alt som heilagt er," segjer fenden; "vaaga
paa; drag i veg!" Men samvite heng un halsen paa hjarta mitt og
talar visdom til meg; "min aerlige ven Lanselot, som er son av ein
aerlig mann, eller rettare: av eit aerligt kvende; for skal eg segja
sant, so teva det eit grand svidt av far min; han hadde som ein
attaat-snev; naah; samvite segjer: "du skal ikkje fantegaa." "Du
skal fantegaa," segjer fenden; "nei; ikkje fantegaa," segjer
samvite. "Du samvit," segjer eg, "du raader meg godt." "Du fenden,"
segjer eg, "du raader meg godt." Fylgde eg no samvite, so vart eg
verande hjaa juden, som--forlate mi synd--er noko som ein devel; og
romer eg fraa juden, so lyder eg fenden, som--beintfram sagt--er
develen sjolv. Visst og sannt: juden er sjolve develen i karnition;
men etter mitt vit er samvite mit vitlaust, som vil raade meg til aa
verta verande hjaa juden. Fenden gjev meg den venlegaste raadi; eg
tek kuten, fenden; haelane mine stend til din kommando; eg tek kuten."
This has the genuine ring. The brisk colloquial vocabulary fits
admirably the brilliant sophistry of the argument. And both could come
only from Launcelot Gobbo. For "the simplicity of the folk" is one of
those fictions which romantic closet study has woven around the study of
"the people."
Of the little re-telling of _The Merchant of Venice_, "Soga um
Kaupmannen i Venetia"[32] which appeared in the same year, nothing need
be said. It is a simple, unpretentious summary of the story with a
certain charm which simplicity and naivete always give. No name appears
on the title-page, but we are probably safe in attributing it to
Madhus, for in the note to _Kaupmannen i Venetia_ we read: "I _Soga um
Kaupmannen i Venetia_ hev ein sjolve forteljingi som stykkji er bygt
paa."
[32. _Soga um Kaupmannen i Venetia_. Oslo, 1905.]
I
In the year 1903, midway between the publication of Madhus' _Macbeth_
and the appearance of his _Kaupmannen i Venetia_, there appeared in the
chief literary magazine of the Landsmaal movement, "Syn og Segn," a
translation of the fairy scenes of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ by Erik
Eggen.[33] This is the sort of material which we should expect Landsmaal
to render well. Oberon and Titania are not greatly different from Nissen
and Alverne in Norwegian fairy tales, and the translator had but to
fancy himself in Alveland to be in the enchanted wood near Athens. The
spirit of the fairy scenes in Shakespeare is akin to the spirit of
Asbjornson's "Huldre-Eventyr." There is in them a community of feeling,
of fancy, of ideas. And whereas Madhus had difficulty with the sunny
romance of Italy, Eggen in the story of Puck found material ready to
hand. The passage translated begins Act II, Sc. 1, and runs through Act
II to Oberon's words immediately before the entrance of Helen and
Demetrius:
But who comes here? I am invisible;
And I will overhear their conference.
[33. _Alveliv. Eller Shakespeare's Midsumarnatt Draum_ ved Erik
Eggen. _Syn og Segn_, 1903. No. 3-6, pp. (105-114); 248-259.]
Then the translator omits everything until Puck re-enters and Oberon
greets him with the words:
Velkomen, vandrar; hev du blomen der?
(Hast thou the flower there? Welcome, wanderer.)
Here the translation begins again and goes to the exit of Oberon and the
entrance of Lysander and Hermia. This is all in the first selection in
_Syn og Segn_, No. 3.
In the sixth number of the same year (1903) the work is continued. The
translation here begins with Puck's words (Act III):
What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here?
So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
What, a play toward! I'll be an auditor;
An actor, too, if I see cause.
Then it breaks off again and resumes with the entrance of Puck and
Bottom adorned with an ass's head. Quince's words: "O monstrous! O
strange!" are given and then Puck's speech: "I'll follow you: I'll lead
you about a round." After this there is a break till Bottom's song:
Pages:
1 |
2 | 3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
7 |
8 |
9 |
10 |
11