The Lesson of the Master ~ On Borges and his Work

I recently finished this interesting book by Norman Thomas di Giovanni, Borges’ preferred English translator for a number of years. I certainly prefer his work to the execrable Andrew Hurley, whatever the general concensus expressed in ‘Borges Under Review, Critical Responses to the Collected Fictions‘ which fails to include Carlos Fuentes’ highly critical opinion published in, I think, The Observer. The treatment of Di Giovanni by the author’s estate – whether or not led by Borges’ widow, Maria Kodama – echoes that of Teo Macero’s situation occasioned by the actions of the Miles Davis’s estate and record companies. Macero and Di Giovanni both played more than normally creative roles in their relationships with their respective artists. It’s difficult not to think that the reconciliation of the single artistic vision with that of the collaborative endeavour is perceived by interested parties as potentially undermining and therefore plays a significant part in their later exclusion. All the same, the commissioning and publication of a completely new set of translations of all of Borges’ fictions remains a very peculiar action, given the the author’s enthusiastic approval of the versions he produced with di Giovanni and particularly in light of Borges remarkable fluency in the English language.
Anyway, here are some interesting quotes from The Lesson of the Master, first an endearing anecdote:

‘Norteamerica,’ Borges told the pillarbox, giving it an affectionate pat. ‘I always tell the box where the letter goes. Otherwise, how would it know?’

Next, an observation made by Borges that increasingly rings true in my life:

… ‘reality comes to us … not in the proliferation of facts but in the enduring nature of particular elements.’

And finally, in the last essay of the collection titled ‘On Translating Borges’, di Giovanni writes of the failure of so many translators to engage with the spirit rather than the letter of the text:

Borges has a marvellous prose poem about Shakespeare called ‘Everything and Nothing’. In the opening line, Borges described Shakespeare’s words as ‘copias, fantasticas y agitadas’. One translation of this reads, ‘copious, fantastic, and agitated’; a second, ‘copious, imaginative, and emotional’. This is distinctly better and shows that the translatoris not just translating the words but is thinking about their meaning in terms of Shakespeare. A third translation reads, ‘copious, fantastic, and stormy’. A fourth, ‘multitudinous, and of a fantastical and agitated turn’ – a solution both long-winded and stodgy. A fifth version – the one made by Borges and me – reads, ‘swarming, fanciful, and excited’.

It’s impossible not to agree with him here, and I love that word ‘swarming’ – wow! This quotation shows how di Giovanni doesn’t pull any punches, and is opinionated, forceful, but frequently convincing. One effect of the above and other references to the variety of different translated versions is to make the texts in their translated state somewhat fragile, reading Borges’ fictions becomes for a little while like walking across ice that cracks with each step.
One subject di Giovanni doesn’t refer to is the end of his relationship with Borges, which the Edwin Williamson biography infers was sudden and unexpected. This dropping of people seems to have been a latterday trait of the author. Apparently, he stopped talking to both his sister and his longstanding friend Bioy Casares in the later years of his life. Although perhaps capricious, he still comes across as a clearly likeable man who was a combination of remarkable intelligence, playfulness and rare humility. The Lesson of the Master was a fine birthday present from Is and comes recommended. It’s available at a very reasonable sum if you search carefully at Amazon (the price currently ranges between £5.78 and £16.00).