Speaking at Delphi – IV

(Horace Engdahl on Pia Tafdrup [my tr.], continued)

One must, however, be careful not to exaggerate the homogeneity in Pia Tafdrup’s writing. Her poetry has a shadow side, which one does not see at first because of all the sunlight in one’s eyes. After the large-scale Queen’s Gate, named after the entrance for the woman who never existed in patriarchal Jerusalem but whom the poet’s imagination had to add, after the expansive orchestration of the hymns in a major key comes the unexpected contrast of Thousandborn, a collection of aphoristic four-liners written in a tone of defiance and resignation. The language which caressed is now the mouth of a pistol. Love is a long goodbye after the first sovereign soaring over the abyss. I can’t resist quoting from this book in translation:

Don’t look for poetry’s black box,
it hasn’t recorded any answers,
is merely full of the dream’s counter-questions
or a silence to feel one’s way into.

The virtue of a collection like this one – apart from the fact that one is allowed to consign oneself to melancholy, according to Leopold the condition in which one sees things as they are – is that it sharpens one’s view of a rebellious aspect in Pia Tafdrup. One rereads the poem “Meteor” in Queen’s Gate, in which the poet’s I most closely resembles a life-threatening war machine. One discovers that the prevailing season in her poetry is actually winter, the harsh, windy Danish winter with its endless wet snow. One finds the terrible “Waiting Blow” in The Bridge of Moments, a poem about how the effort to reach someone who has been close to one must be given up for ever, in the same way as one accepts an incurable illness.

From Thousandborn I should also like to quote this scene, which could equally well be a portrait of poetry:

The boy up in the tree
sits there all day,
he sings loudly and refuses to come down
from his branch and be a person.

How well one understands the boy! If Pia Tafdrup’s poetry is at last dominated by openness and not by a stance of aversion, it is thanks to the secret union between poetic creation and the inexorable labour of time, which turns everything into its opposite. From emptiness and torpor, a reborn I finally rises, “thousandborn”, as for the romantics of an earlier age, when the Word made the world’s condition change from dead to living. “Between always and never,” the final poem in The Innermost Zone, is about the incomprehensible moment of change.

Between always and never
things happen
for a breathless second
when one least expects it
the world changes

sunk upon itself
at a depth of seven hearts
is the thing one suddenly imagines
a time when the stone
begins to bleed

People who are in alliance with change are always interested in reality.

Horace Engdahl is the permanent secretary of the Swedish Academy.

(concluded)

See also: Speaking at Delphi
Speaking at Delphi – II
Speaking at Delphi – III

Speaking at Delphi – III

(Horace Engdahl [my tr.] on Pia Tafdrup, continued)

The unreality of reality is the fundamental problem of modern literature, and Pia Tafdrup’s writing is not, of course, free of it. In the very first poem of her first collection, a poem called “One Day” – one of the most moving in her œuvre – the poet is sitting on a bench in a park, but its planks disappear and she goes plummeting down into a childhood longing for real life where everything is in earnest. The objects in the game are dummies, which one day will be replaced by the real thing. As children we have probably all thought: one day we’ll bake real bread, sail real boats, and so on. Caress and be caressed by real bodies. When we grow up. But the poet still lacks that real bench, that real time. Life never became quite as real as we planned it to be in the days when we pretended chestnut leaves were boats.

From this point of departure, Pia Tafdrup’s poems always strive essentially for the moment when there will be a real bench underneath her and everything will be here and now. The tangible sends her into euphoria. She is a poet of the joy of touch, perhaps because the tangibility of things is seldom a real obstacle. As in Peter Pan, in an unguarded moment one can always go soaring up in the air and see everything from far above.

“I speak/ and so I soar.” The enjoyment of the sense of power in writing poems can sometimes make one think of Edith Södergran, and sometimes the poet is close to “Triumph of Being” – I am thinking, for example, of the introductory poem of Spring Tide, “Raised to Birth”, where she calls on us to live even though the signs of the times point to destruction.

It has been said that the wounded body is the centre of Tafdrup’s poetry, but I see in this view a reflection of a fashion in literary criticism which is most at home with loss, absence, cutting and silence. The wound is certainly there, but it is not a simple story of suffering. When in one of her most frequently quoted poems an angel breaks her silence, the angel being the author herself in the innocence of childhood, this destruction is the beginning of something new. It signifies the possibility of writing. When in a later poem love gives the former angel wings of stone, it is not, as I see it, in order to capture her but in order to invite her to remain on the earth, where all that she seeks exists.

As a beginner she probably saw out of the corner of her eye how busy the traffic on the Via Negativa was and was not unhappy to reject that route. Her rains are the kind that are followed by rainbows, not by Noah’s Floods or stars that come loose from their moorings. Even if one shrinks from generalizing about Danish and Swedish character, it’s hard not to reflect on how much less angst-ridden Oehlenschläger is than Stagnelius, how much lighter Sophus Claussen is than Fröding.

In Pia Tafdrup’s world, man is not free to invent himself, he has a gender (and not only a genus), he has a body and a history which calls through him. Affirmation requires a capacity for being passive, not only active, or perhaps an ability to linger in a state where active and passive cannot be distinguished between. One of those states is love, and another is religious feeling, which expresses itself in one’s relation to words: “I am a body/which language touches” (‘White Fever’). Some will perhaps be shocked when she praises the chasm of delight she experiences when the lover can do what he likes with her (“I lie down/I expose myself/I become your creature/for a moment”). But she is the girl who has learned trust in the unknown, swimming on her father’s back over the forests of seaweed in order to let go at the right moment, and soar.

Her favourite pet creatures, the whales, are a metaphor for the greatest forces in life, love, art and death. Their games in the ocean bear witness to a sovereign power on which the poet can call whenever life seems too cramped. It seems to me that it’s a breakout of this kind she describes in her recently published novel Surrender. The book is a daydream about losing control – the sort of daydream only intellectuals can have. Pascha, the main character, climbs over a fence and enters a strange house which belongs to a man she doesn’t know. “I just have to feel that I exist,” she thinks. The banality of the way events subsequently turn out is certainly a bitter lesson for this young woman, but at the same time it does not cancel the liberating giddiness caused by climbing the fence.

In Pia Tafdrup’s poems this violent encroachment does not prompt a fear of being invaded; instead, it brings fascination, delight, new eyes. This is also true of her relation to poetic antecedents, which seems unusually free of anxiety. In her texts she makes Emily Dickinson a queen without a throne. She unhesitatingly used erotic signal words from the Södergran repertoire. When she makes the journey into her Jewish heritage in the collection Territorial Song she takes possession of The Song of Songs and the Psalms.

(to be continued)

See also: Speaking at Delphi
Speaking at Delphi – II

Mikael Storsjö – Finland Exerts Pressure

Mikael Storsjö, the Finland-Swedish IT entrepreneur who hosted the Kavkaz Center servers which were seized by Swedish police on May 6, and who was subsequently targeted by disinformation posted to a Russian-language site posing as one of KC’s own, has now commented on recent events which I highlighted in two posts to this blog – here and here.

One or two points to note: Mikael writes that Visami Tutuyev is no longer working for KC. Tutuyev's son, Zaur, is now in Finland with his family, after Mikael arranged for them to travel there. Zaur as applied for asylum, but Mikael says that “apparently I myself will end up in court because I “'falsified documentation’, i.e. my invitation, as in it I only mentioned a visit to Finland, not that Zaur was coming to seek asylum! I know it sounds crazy, but apparently our authorities want to prevent people entering the country on visitor’s visas from applying for asylum – is it better then that they come here with forged papers and by paying human smugglers? It will be interesting to see what happens.” (my tr. from Swedish)

In fact, however, Mikael notes, “Zaur can be 100% sure about getting refugee status, as the son of his father. Zaur was also 1½ years ago quite badly injured by some mob in Baku, you don't have to be paranoid to understand why and by whom he was attacked.” (verbatim, English)

More background: “Zaur lived in Ukraine, where he got an allowance to stay for 3 months each time. We tried first to get visa from Kiev, I spoke with the Embassy personnel, and everything was OK. But suddenly it wasn't, he got refusal. I called to the Embassy, and asked why. I got the very strong impression it was due to his ethnical background – they didn't want to grant visa for a Chechen family from Grozny. In the year 2005 373.483 visas were applied for by citizens of Russian federation. There were only 5.198 refusals, i.e.98,61 % of applicants got their visa. I can't understand what is the justification that makes those close to 370.000 Russians more welcome to my country than my friends are. (verbatim)

“We made a new request through our Moscow Embassy. I got some politicians involved, contacted Ambassador himself, I wrote maybe 5 letters and made some 20 calls there. Zaur then got a 7 day visa for himself, his wife and 5 year old son, and now they are here.” (verbatim)

The outcome of Mikael’s case will depend, he thinks, on the resolution of a court case currently underway in Finland. It concerns a Serbian family who sought asylum in Finland, but who are now, together with their lawyer, accused of having misled the authorities. The case has been reported in Finland's Swedish-language daily newspaper, Hufvudstadsbladet.

In a future post I'll look at some of the – often complicated – issues that relate to Kavkaz Center and the operation of its websites.
See also: Mikael Storsjö Radio Interview

Speaking at Delphi – II

(Horace Engdahl [my tr.] on Pia Tafdrup, continued)

Pia Tafdrup made no secret of the fact that what she did was Art with a capital letter, and that the literary canon was her bread and butter. In 1991, on top of everything else, she published a poetics. Its title was Walking Over The Water. She placed herself in the ranks of authoritative figures all the way from Aristotle to her direct antecedent Paul la Cour, discussing the nature of poetry, the ways in which it is written, and how it is to be understood. It’s a triumphant hubris of the kind that’s witnessed when Swedish golfer Annika Sörenstam insists on playing with the men.

There is only one thing one with which one can successfully compare Pia Tafdrup’s writing, and that is the experience of falling in love. In her poems it’s as though that experience can only really be compared with one thing – writing. What writing and falling in love have in common is that, as phenomena, they are all-consuming. They lay claim to everything and relate everything to themselves. They are rapid, cumulative events, descending like an assault. Improbably enough, they are both triggered by words.

In Pia Tafdrup’s poems, words stimulate the blood. In what is one of the most realistic love poems I have read, she has the ‘I’ of the poem conquer the beloved by saying his name as they both wander aimlessly across a rainy urban landscape, in a way he has never heard it said before, as though he had been given a completely new name, the one he really wants to be called, a word that unclothes him. The poet whispers him naked in his own name, naming him so that he falls completely under her power.

According to the psychologists, falling in love is a controlled psychosis. Readers who give themselves to Pia Tafdrup’s texts are invited to a folie à deux for the duration of the poem. No irony that might create uncertainty about whom the poem is meant for obtrudes between the poet and her addressee. Everyone is equally worthy. There is an unfashionable generosity in this way of writing, one that seems to have conquered the public’s natural mistrust of poetry and made Pia Tafdrup a poet who is widely read.

Sometimes her poems turn inward on themselves and become metaphoric fakir acts, climbing ropes of their own creation, or drinking themselves as Indian conjurers do. But seen against the background of an intellectual era which has been obsessed with the idea of language’s self-reference and materiality, these games are infrequent and are not intended to sow doubt in the reality of things or in poetry’s ability to talk about the world. The female body and the elements are as present in her language as the grammar. The sky menstruates in the rain, the star shines like the first white spot of the baby’s head as it emerges at the moment of childbirth. The ploughed field – Pia Tafdrup is a farmer’s daughter – is like the open page in a holy book, as in the poetry of Yesenin. In the water of intercourse the sperms are fish. When love is lost they are frozen into the ice.

She makes Uranus and Gaia rise again in the dream poem “Sleep Hieroglyph” in The Whales, and yet the body remains concrete and does not enter the realm of the mythical and allegorical. I am not even sure that the relation between nature and subject can be called metaphorical. It’s an inflow and outflow between two basins, the ebb and flow of language, exultantly affirmed in the book of fortune, Spring Tide, which is written in the spirit of the full moon and the sacred number 7. In Pia Tafdrup’s most magnificent collection of poems, Queen’s Gate, this theme swells into a mighty hymn to the sea, nine pages of inspiration in the style of Walt Whitman. But that is the kind of thing that can only be done once!

(to be continued)

See also: Speaking at Delphi

Surviving in Chechnya

Jeremy Putley translates the announcement of a new French language publication on the conflict in Chechnya:

Sultan Yachurkayev's
"Surviving in Chechnya" ("Survivre en Tchétchénie")

Published by Gallimard, Euros 26.00

Translated from the Russian by Marianne Gourg, 400 pages, Collection Témoins, Gallimard

ISBN 2070735370

Publication date 18 May 2006

On 4 January 1995, a few days after the deployment of hundreds of Russian tanks in the small break-away republic of Chechnya, bombers commenced their pounding of the capital, Grozny. Alone in his house in Grozny's suburbs, under the bombardment, Sultan Yachurkayev began to write his journal.

Between visits to his animals from his icy, half-destroyed building, alternating between the tragic and the comic, from a simple detailing of the destruction to indignation, he describes the looting and murders, records the conversations with the two neighbours who remained, details the shortages, the nights without sleep, occasional visits into the city. He supplements the narrative with history, anecdotes, memories, and the daily details of his existence. Without books, without anything, he survives. This is a story of an intellectual, a fine poet, a man of wide learning, who has the opportunity to reflect.

Beneath the bombing, he thinks about Chechnya and Russia, about Europe and these far-flung fragments of Europe, the countries of the Caucasus. The reader learns of the sequence of events that led up to war – and understands better the spirit of resistance of a people that has been persecuted for centuries.

(via chechnya-sl)

Speaking At Delphi

Last month the Swedish Academy awarded its Nordic Prize to the contemporary Danish poet Pia Tafdrup. Regular readers of A Step At A Time will be familiar with Pia's work, some of which I've translated. At the award ceremony in Stockholm, the Swedish literary scholar Horace Engdahl gave a Laudatio speech which I think characterizes Pia's writing very clearly and succinctly. At the invitation of Gyldendal, Pia's publishers, I translated the address. I want to post it here in several sections, the first of which begins now.

The Poet of the Joy of Touch

by Horace Engdahl

In her early collections of verse, and for a long time subsequently, Pia Tafdrup had a predilection for writing a poetry of short lines. A mounting, impatient rhythm, to which the language accommodates itself without resistance. Each time a new line of verse begins, the poet blows the breath back into her universe, reconnects with her invisible “you”, waits a split second for its silent “yes!”, and continues.

The first time I heard Pia Tafdrup in real life, she sounded different. She had then just taken a step into poetry of long lines, speaking as if she were in a trance, turned inwards towards her visions, rocked on the waves of a pantheistic rhythm: a Delphic priestess, a Pythia. It was at the Nässjö Poetry Festival of 1994, and the poems of her collection Territorial Song were new. It was irresistible: I had never heard anything like it. The effect has been described many times by literary commentators with apprehensive delight. The Tafdrup style of poetry reading is an emblem of contemporary Danish poetry.

If one spends much time with her books in quiet, alone, one discovers that this elevated, hymn-like tone is only one of the many pitch-ranges of her voice, and not the primary one. But the characteristic authority is there right from the start, in that outwardly unassuming pamphlet with the fascinating title When An Angel Breaks Her Silence, published 25 years ago. Nor did it take her long to convince colleagues and critics of her stature as a lyrical poet. Only eight years after her literary debut she was elected a member of the Danish Academy.

This has given rise to an anomaly. Rule No. 1 for a modern poet is to stand outside. “To be understood is to prostitute oneself,” writes Fernando Pessoa in Book of Disquiet, and the statement is to some extent a representative one. A certain brokenness is part of what is expected from a first rank talent. It was with amazement that one saw in Pia Tafdrup a young poet who seemed to be doing well, who radiated social confidence and was not ashamed to take her place on her country’s Parnassus while being fully alive – a poet who confessed that even as she began her first book she thought of it as the first building block in a life’s work.

She belongs to Denmark’s poetry miracle, that grouping of young poets who blazed a path for themselves during the 1980s. But she soon turned from being a generational phenomenon into a universal one, more reminiscent of Rilke than of Bob Dylan. Perhaps the role of outsider is less imaginable for a talented writer in Denmark, simply because of the smallness of the country. Where is one to go? Sweden is big enough for almost all its writers to be able to stay outside.

(to be continued)

Eurasianism

In Russia the Eurasian movement continues its reorganization and realignment. The movement's youth wing, ESM (Eurasian Union of Youth), is picking up members from other nationalist organizations, especially the National Bolsheviks. On the ESM website it's possible to read about youth camps and rallies where Eurasianist ideology is preached – it's intensely anti-American, anti-NATO and "anti-Orange".

The Eurasian movement has members at the highest level of the Russian Federal Government, and its "Higher Council" is led by figures such as the vice speaker of the Russian Duma, A.P.Troshev – vice speaker of Russian Senate, A.A.-M. Aslakhanov, adviser to President Putin, M.V. Margelov, president of the Duma Committee for International Affairs, and V.I. Kalyuzhny, vice-minister of Foreign Affairs.

IHF: Joint Statement

International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights, Vienna, Austria

As Russia Takes Over the Chair of the Council of Europe It Must Show Respect for Human Rights

Joint call by Amnesty International, Center ‘Demos’, Center for the Development of Democracy and Human Rights, Civic Assistance Committee, Human Rights Center ‘Memorial’, Human Rights Watch, International Helsinki Federation for Human Rights, Moscow Helsinki Group, Union of Committees of Soldiers’ Mothers of Russia

19 May 2006.

Today for the first time the Russian Federation will assume the chair of the Committee of Ministers of the Council of Europe, shortly after the 10th anniversary of its joining the Council of Europe. We, Russian and international human rights organizations, strongly believe that this occasion carries special responsibilities and heralds opportunities. The country occupying the chair of this inter-governmental organization that promotes respect for and monitors compliance with human rights, rule of law and democracy in its member states should exhibit exemplary cooperation with the bodies of the Council of Europe and respect for its aims.

Russia has made considerable progress in fulfilling a number of key promises and commitments it made when joining the Council of Europe. Among them it has signed and ratified the European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms and several other Council of Europe conventions; transferred the supervision of the prison system to the Ministry of Justice; introduced new criminal, civil and procedure codes; and imposed a moratorium on the death penalty.

However, we are concerned that Russia has failed to follow up on a number of the commitments it made when becoming a member of the Council of Europe and to consistently cooperate with bodies of the Council of Europe. We are also concerned that the government’s adherence to respect for fundamental human rights and freedoms, particularly in the area of political freedoms, has seriously declined in Russia in recent years.

We are hopeful that during its Chairmanship of the Council of Europe, Russia will take significant steps to enhance the respect and protection of human rights at home, and to encourage such enhancement across the Council of Europe region. We believe that by taking the measures as outlined below Russia will demonstrate its real commitment to the Council of Europe’s aims of promoting and respecting human rights, the rule of law and democracy.

· End Arbitrary Detentions, Torture, Ill-treatment, Enforced “Disappearances”, and Extra-judicial Executions in the North Caucasus.

The Russian army, federal security forces and official as well as un-official units of the government of Chechnya have to strictly obey Russian law as well as international human rights and humanitarian law. All groups on the side of the Chechen armed opposition must refrain from all activities, which endanger the civilian population.

We urge the Russian authorities to put an end to torture and ill-treatment, arbitrary detentions, enforced “disappearances”, and extra-judicial executions.

· Take Meaningful Steps to End Impunity in Chechnya

Upon becoming a member of the Council of Europe, Russia committed itself to ensuring that “those found responsible for human rights violations will be brought to justice – notably in relation to events in Chechnya.” In cooperation with the Council of Europe the Russian authorities have taken some steps towards identifying exhumed bodies and investigation of human rights abuses. However, an overwhelming climate of impunity continues to reign in the region.

We urge the Russian authorities to make real measurable progress over the next six months in the investigation and prosecution of a number of key cases of human rights violation. i)

· End Violent Abuses in the Russian Armed Forces

Upon accession to the Council of Europe, Russia also undertook “to reduce, if not eliminate, incidents of ill-treatment and deaths in the armed forces outside military conflicts”. Yet hazing and violent initiation practices in the armed forces still result in the deaths of dozens of young soldiers every year, and serious damage to the physical and mental health of thousands of others.

We call on the Russian government to present and implement a clear and comprehensive plan of action to end violent initiation practices in the armed forces.

· Amendments to the Law on Non-governmental Organizations

In April 2006, a new law governing the work of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) came into force, which includes provisions that dramatically increase government control over the work of NGOs, and that may lead to even more sustained political interference in the activities of NGOs.

We call on the Russian government to amend the law and introduce safeguards to protect NGOs from arbitrary restrictions of their lawful activities.

· Reform of the Procurator’s Office

Russia has made a commitment when it joined to reform the Procurator's office in line with Council of Europe standards. However, this reform has yet to happen. A large body of research by the undersigned human rights groups illustrates that the procurator’s office routinely fails to promptly, thoroughly, impartially and effectively investigate allegations of human rights abuses.

We believe that the Russian government should swiftly undertake a comprehensive process leading to a thorough overhaul of the office of the procuracy, in line with European standards and thereby allowing for access to effective redress and accountability for human rights violations.

· Cooperation with the Committee for the Prevention of Torture

In 1998, Russia ratified the European Convention for the Prevention of Torture and Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment. In doing so, it committed itself to cooperating with the European Committee for the Prevention of Torture (CPT). While Russia has generally permitted the CPT to visit places where people are deprived of their liberty, we are concerned that during its most recent visit in May this year the CPT was initially denied access to the village of Tsenteroi in the Chechen Republic. ii)

Russia is the only Council of Europe country not to authorize the publication of all reports of the CPT’s visits. To date 12 out of a total of 13 reports of the CPT’s visits remain confidential. While not required to do so, authorization of publication of the reports has become an established practice of all other parties of the Convention.

We believe that Russia should ensure full cooperation with the CPT by among other things, ensuring the Committee access to all places where people are deprived of their liberty; making public plans for real and transparent efforts to implement the CPTs recommendations, and authorising, without further delay, publication of all reports of CPT visits to Russia.

· Ratification of Protocol 6 to the European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms (ECHR)

In 1996, Russia undertook to “sign within one year and ratify within three years” Protocol No. 6 to the ECHR, which provides for the abolition of the death penalty in time of peace. Although no death sentences have been passed or executions carried out for years, Russia has yet to ratify the protocol.

We urge the Russian parliament to ratify Protocol 6 without further delay.

· Ratification of the European Social Charter

On accession as a Member State of the Council of Europe, Russia undertook to “study, with a view to ratification, the European Social Charter”. Russia signed the charter on 14 September 2000.

We believe Russia should finalize the ratification process during its Chairmanship.

_______________________________________
Endnotes:
i) Such as the systematic ill-treatment and enforced “disappearance” at the Oktiabrskii District Temporary Police Precinct in Grozny in the spring of 2000 or the “disappearances” of Said-Khusein and Said-Magomed Imakaev . The later is an applicant to the European Court of Human Rights in relation to his son’s “disappearance”;
ii) On 1 May 2006, the CPT interrupted its visit to the North Caucasus after it had been denied access to the village of Tsenteroi. However, the CPT resumed the visit after receiving assurances from the President of Chechnya that it would be able to work without further interference.

The Hole

Jens-Olaf at Estland has a post about "Overcoming the Past", in connection with Drew Wilson's recently published book The Hole, a study which re-examines the sinking of the Estonia, and proceeds from the supposition that the ship had a hole – from a collision or an explosion. The Estland post focuses on aspects of Estonian social and political life in the early 1990s, which are highlighted in Wilson's book, and wonders about the real nature of Estonian-Russian tensions at that time.

I plan to discuss Wilson's book in a future post to this blog.

Translating Brodsky

Natasha Rulyova recently asked me some questions about my experience of translating Joseph Brodsky, for a book she is writing. I ventured the following replies:

– Your translation of Strophes first appeared in Strand (21:1, 1979/80)

It appeared in Stand, not Strand.

and Vogue (May 1980). Subsequently, Joseph Brodsky (JB) revised it after publication.

That’s correct.

– Did Joseph Brodsky (JB) ask you to translate Strophes or was it your initiative?

One afternoon when I visited him at 44 Morton Street he asked me to translate the poem. He told me he had been keeping it for me.

– Do you know whether any other translators were approached to do the job?

No, but it’s possible to suppose that they weren’t.

– Have you ever seen any other versions of the poem?

No, apart from the revised versions of ‘our’ translation which Joseph published during his lifetime.

– Did JB try to translate it himself independently?

Yes, I believe so.

– JB had already started translating some of his own poems from the Russian when you translated Strophes. His auto-translation of December in Florence appeared roughly at the same time, in 1980. Why do you think did JB want you to translate Strophes rather than do it himself, taking into account that his control over his English translations was about to start growing?

As far as I could tell, Joseph regarded Strophes as something apart from the rest of his production at that time. For him it seemed to represent a statement that was acutely personal, and one he wasn’t sure very many people would understand. He wanted the translation to be a process of understanding.

– To what extent did JB interfere with your translation and at what stages?

He didn’t interfere much with the actual writing of the ‘final’ translation, but we had at least two long sessions where he went through various drafts of the individual stanzas with me and made suggestions. It was a sort of extended discussion, and it took quite some time.

– Did he try to russify your translation?

No.

– Did he attempt to make it less ‘smooth’?

No.

– If not, how would you describe the changes he suggested? Did you agree with all his suggestions?

As far as I know, I accepted nearly all his changes, which seemed to stem from his own conviction and certainty about what he was saying. There are a few problems with the translation which haven’t been resolved – as in the lines

Like our thirty-third letter
I jib all my life ahead.

where the second line is still only a very approximate rendering of the Russian, but which represents Joseph’s preferred choice.

I think it needs to be remembered that for Joseph the process of translating his own poems was in many ways not ‘translation’ in the usual sense at all. He used to talk of ‘throwing away the original, as it’s not important now’. The idea was to create a new poem in English – and that was going to involve reliving some of the same existential tensions that had led to the writing of the Russian version. I always felt that the conventional kind of ‘translation’ had negative meanings for Joseph – he tended to regard it rather as Mandelstam did. The important thing was to create something new and alive that worked in the host language. Innokenty Annensky, of whom I’d made a special study and whom Joseph greatly admired, also took this approach.

– Did you consult anybody while you were translating Strophes?

No, only Joseph.

– How did JB make his suggestions/corrections: on your manuscript in your presence, after publication without consulting you, or any other?

Essentially we made the translation together, as part of an ongoing conversation – I made changes to my own drafts on pieces of paper, and submitted them for his approval. And he made his. Each stanza of the poem was treated almost like an individual poem in itself – a kind of rhyming haiku. We also translated some poems of Tsvetaeva at about the same time by a similar process, though it was almost exclusively oral, and didn’t involve much writing down. I only saw the results when Joseph had two of the translations published in the New Yorker, under the pseudonym "F.F. Morton". The idea was that 44 Morton Street had done the translating.

– In the Beinecke library JB archive, I saw a reference to your translation of the poem ‘On the Death of a Friend’ which, according to the reference, has not been published. Did JB ask you to translate the poem?

I think it was in a group of about four poems he gave me to translate, but also gave to Alan Myers, Daniel Weissbort, George Kline, and someone else.

– Do you still have this translation?

No.

– Why was not it published?

I don’t know.

– Whose decision was it not to have it published?

Again, I don’t know.

– Did JB make any changes in it?

Once again, I don’t know.

– Have you translated any other JB’s poems which were not published?

I translated part of The Thames at Chelsea, but Joseph preferred Alan Myers’ version of the complete poem.

– What were the reason for not having them published?

I think I’ve explained the situation above.

– In From Russian with Love, Daniel Weissbort notes that he felt more ‘proprietorial’ about his translations of JB’s poems than Alan Myers who saw his translations as ‘versions’, or ‘drafts’. How would you describe your relationship with your translations?

I always saw them as open-ended drafts, which were under Joseph’s control – they were his poems, and I tried to help to find an English idiom in which to phrase the English versions of the few that I got involved with. It may seem strange, but the translation of Strophes was really an extension of the conversations we were having at the time, both about the poem itself and about other matters, rather than a literary text as such. I felt that this improvisatory process was one of the ways in which Joseph gauged the personal characteristics of his translators and of other non-Russians who surrounded him. The translations were a kind of test – not so much of linguistic or literary skill, though that mattered, of course, as of existential authenticity. I was never sure whether I passed or failed this test, though in our work together Joseph always insisted that I had passed it. I rarely had contact with his other translators.

– Did JB ever ask you to edit his English poems or to comment on his English texts?

He sometimes asked me to edit his prose texts – the short essay on Dostoevsky is an example, though it needed hardly any changes. I also read and commented, at his request, on some other texts he had written, but I don’t remember what they were now.

My translation of Strophes is here.