Re: [New-Poetry] Re: Tranströmer

[Bob Grumman]

> Let's see if we can make this an interesting discussion.
 Here are
> the rules: 1. You must think, really think before you say something;  2. 
> As you read these 3 versions of a Tranströmer poem, you must  actually pay 
> attention to your own esthetic reactions; 3. You must  report what is your 
> esthetic reaction to a particular word, phrase or  image; 4. You must not 
> comment on what is NOT in the poem, only what  is in it; 5. You can only 
> voice your own esthetic reaction, and are  strictly disallowed from making 
> political comments or any other  comments other than A. your own esthetic 
> experience, or B. comments  about your own esthetic experience.  6. You 
> are allowed to comment on  the variation between translations, knowing, 
> but not caring, that  these are not about Tranströmer, but are about the 
> text actually in  the new-po post (the Object of Discussion); 7. these 
> translations are  the only object of discussion; 8. The question "What's 
> this guy do  that's special?" must be changed subtly to "What is my 
> esthetic  reaction to what these translators say this guy does?"

I don't get this.  I can see the question being changed to "What does this 
guy, as translated, do that's special," to give his admirers the out that in 
his own language he does special things, but if we just take the English of 
his poetry, what he does that's special has nothing to do with aesthetic 
reactions, but with what's there on the page: some technique that's new, or 
old but used in a fresh way; some way of looking at the world that's fresh; 
some subject matter that's fresh; a quantitative complexity greater 
(objectively) than that of most other poets' work; whatever.

  9. In the
> process of following the rules, your original question will be  answered, 
> but not in a way to prove anything, since esthetic  discussions never 
> prove anything.  Proving something would be  breaking rules #2,3,4, and 5. 
> Ready?

I don't see how this will lead to an answer to my question, but tomorrow, if 
I have time, I'll try it.

> Here are the texts:  [note that the May Swenson translation appears  to 
> have an error in line 6]
>
> Breathing Room: July
>
> Lying on his back under tall trees
> he is also up there. He rills into thousands of twigs and branches,
> is swayed back and forth,
> as if in a catapult seat outflung in slow motion.
>
> Standing down by the jetties he squints across the waters.
> The docks age sooner than men.
> Made of splintered silver gray planks, and with stones in their
> bellies.
> The blinding light rips its way straight through.
>
> Sailing all day in an open boat
> over the glittering bights,
> he will fall asleep at last inside a blue lamp
> while islands like great nocturnal moths creep over the glass.
>
> Translation by May Swenson
>
> Breathing Space July
>
> The man lying on his back under the high trees
> is up there too. He rills out in thousandfold twigs,
> sways to and fro,
> sits in an ejector seat that releases in slow motion.
>
> The man down by the jetties narrows his eyes at the water.
> The jetties grow old more quickly than people.
> They have silver grey timber and stones in their stomachs.
> The blinding light beats right in.
>
> The man traveling all day in an open boat
> over the glittering straits
>
> Will sleep at last inside a blue lamp
> while the islands creep like large moths across the glass.
>
> Translation by Robert Fulton
>
> Breathing Space July
>
> The man who lies on his back under huge trees
> is also up in them. He branches out into thousands of tiny branches.
> He sways back and forth,
> he sits in a catapult chair that hurtles forward in slow motion.
>
> The man who stands down at the dock screws up his eyes against the  water.
> Docks get older faster than men.
> They have silver-gray posts and boulders in their gut.
> The dazzling light drives straight in.
>
> The man who spends the whole day in an open boat
> moving over the luminous bays
> will fall asleep at last inside the shade of his blue lamp
> as the islands crawl like huge moths over the globe.
>
> Translation by Robert Bly


Weird, it's a standard Bly poem, but Bly's translation sucks, compared to 
the other two.  Yeah, I'm not following your rules, but I'll try that 
tomorrow.  My impression is that maybe this guy WAS special, if he was the 
one who initiated this kind of surrealism (which gets into my poems, too). 
I think he was not, but he may still be one of the top founders of the 
school.

--Bob G.