неділя, 16 жовтня 2016 р.

‘Alice in a World of Wonderlands: The Translations of Lewis Carroll’s Masterpiece’


“Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you’re at!”
—Lewis Carroll, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”
There have been so many commemorations of the 150th anniversary of Lewis Carroll’s classic, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” that plummeting down a rabbit hole might now seem as commonplace as “Twinkle, twinkle, little star,” even when twisted into nonsense by the Mad Hatter: “Twinkle, twinkle, little bat! / How I wonder what you’re at!” But at the Grolier Club, in a disarmingly charming exhibition, Carroll’s world of logically shaped illogic takes a remarkable new turn. It isn’t Alice but “Alice” that falls down the rabbit hole here. The book is the character in this exhibition’s narrative, tumbling into an intricate world of challenging peculiarity.

Despite the fact that “Alice” plays with puns and popular poems, English customs and Victorian ideas—which once led friends to tell Carroll the book was “untranslatable”—such insurmountable difficulties have instead inspired a stubborn obsession. “Alice” has become the most translated English novel since “The Pilgrim’s Progress.” And the exhibition, “Alice in a World of Wonderlands: The Translations of Lewis Carroll’s Masterpiece,“ is an example of that obsession. Its curator,
 Jon A. Lindseth, has been collecting translations just as the original Alice— Alice Liddell Hargreaves—did in her adulthood, gathering accounts of her adventures in Brazilian Portuguese, Catalan, Chinese, Czech, Danish, Dutch, Hungarian, Italian, Japanese, Norwegian, Pitman Shorthand, Polish, Portuguese, Russian, Serbian, Spanish and Swedish.‘Alice’ translation in Greek.ENLARGE
‘Alice’ translation in Greek. PHOTO: ALEX A. BLUM, ATLANTIS-M. PECHLIVANIDIS

Twinkle, twinkle, oh my little bat!
What are you doing in the grey evening?
—rendering of a French translation



The Birth of a Genius

All his life, Carroll was a scholar; when he was not a student, he was a teacher, and until two years before his death, he was firmly imbedded in the life of Oxford University. Quite honestly, though, nothing very exciting ever happened in Carroll's life, apart from a trip to the Continent, including Russia. His vacations were all local ones, to his sister's home in Guildford, his aunt's home in Hastings, and to Eastbourne, the Lake Country, and Wales. He did not begin his formal schooling until the age of twelve, when he enrolled in Richmond Grammar School, ten miles from the Croft Rectory, but he had already received a thorough background in literature from the family library. Yet it was mathematics — and not English literature — that interested Carroll most. When he was very young, for example, Carroll implored his father to explain logarithms to him, presumably because he had already mastered arithmetic, algebra, and even most of Euclidian geometry.
Carroll entered Rugby in 1846, but the sensitive young child found the all-boys environment highly unpleasant; the bullying abuse, the flogging, and the caning was a daily part of school life. Nonetheless, Carroll was, despite his three years of unhappiness there, an exceedingly studious boy, and he won many prizes for academic excellence.
Carroll matriculated at Christ Church, Oxford, in 1851, and remained there for forty-seven years. But, two days after entering Oxford, he received word of his mother's death, something which deeply distressed him and seemed to have worsened his stammering. By all accounts, Carroll was not an outgoing student; with little money, and because of his stammer, his circle of friends always remained small. Yet in his academic work, he applied himself with the same energy and devotion that characterized his career at Rugby. He won scholarship prizes, honors in Classical exams, and also won a First Prize in Mathematics. His scholastic efforts were rewarded by a lifetime fellowship and a residency at Christ Church, so long as he remained unmarried and proceeded to take Holy Orders.
In 1854, the year Carroll took his B.A. degree, he began publishing poetry in the student magazines and in The Whitby Gazette. Carroll's writings had already established him as both a superb raconteur and humorist at Oxford, and in 1854, he began to seriously teach himself how to express his thoughts in proper literary form; it was at that time that his writings began to show some of the whimsy and fantasy that are contained in the Alice books.
In 1857, Carroll took his M.A. degree and was made "Master of the House." During those years, he immersed himself in literature, mathematics, and also in the London theater. He produced freelance humorous prose pieces and verses for various periodicals, explored theories of dual identities, wrote satires, published mathematical and symbolic logic texts, invented word games and puzzles, and took up photography, a hobby that would make him famous as one of the best Victorian photographers. In short, Carroll became a sort of lesser English equivalent of Leonardo da Vinci. He invented the Nyctograph, a device for writing in the dark, and he also invented a method of remote control self-photography. Helmut Gernshein, the author ofLewis Carroll: Photographer, calls Carroll's photographic achievements "astonishing"; in his estimation, Carroll "must not only rank as a pioneer of British amateur photography, but I would also unhesitatingly acclaim him as the most outstanding photographer of children in the nineteenth century."
His new duties notwithstanding, Dodgson was able to pursue his literary interests. In 1856 and 1857 he composed a set of literary pieces specifically for the journal The Train. These included “Solitude,” “Novelty and Romancement,” “The Three Voices,” “The Sailor’s Wife,” “Hiawatha’s Photographing,” “Upon the Lonely Moor,” and “Ye Carpette Knyghte.” Their tones range from serious to humorous; Dodgson’s disposition toward parody was expressed through “Hiawatha’s Photographing,” which retained the meter of its famous counterpart, and “Upon the Lonely Moor,” which parodied William Wordsworth‘s poem “Resolution and Independence“ (1802). “Upon the Lonely Moor” was later to serve as a model for the White Knight’s ballad in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865). 

From 1858 until the publication of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Dodgson’s output included mathematical and literary topics, including The Fifth Book of Euclid (1858), A Syllabus of Plane Algebraical Geometry (1860), The Formulae of Plane Trigonometry(1861), The Enunciations of ... Euclid, Books I and II (1863), and A Guide to the Mathematical Student (1864). The number of such publications would grow as his career advanced, striking a peculiar and interesting juxtaposition between the abstract but acceptable world of numbers and the intangible and less credible one of fancy. 

Lewis Carroll's Biography

Of all Lewis Carroll's major works, Alice's Adventures in Wonderlandhas a unique standing in the category of whimsical, nonsense literature. Much has been written about how this novel contrasts with the vast amount of strict, extremely moralistic children's literature. This is true; Alice is quite different from all other Victorian children's literature. Yet, as odd as this story appears in relation to the other Victorian children's stories, this short novel is odder still because it was written by an extremely upright, ultra-conservative man — in short, a quintessential Victorian gentleman.
Lewis Carroll was born Charles Lutwidge Dodgson on January 27, 1832, in the parsonage of Daresbury, Cheshire, England, the third child and eldest son of eleven children of Reverend Charles Dodgson and his wife, Francis Jane Lutwidge. The parents were descended from two ancient and distinguished North Country families. From the Dodgsons, the son inherited a very old tradition of service to the Church and a tradition that he belonged to one of the most respected lineages in England — for example, family legend has it that King James I actually "knighted" either a loin of beef or mutton at the table of Sir Richard Houghton, one of Carroll's ancestors. This incident has been thought by some critics to have inspired the introductory lines in Through the Looking Glass, the sequel to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, when the Red Queen introduces the leg of mutton to Alice: "Alice — Mutton: Mutton — Alice."

For the sake of those who are curious about pen names and how authors choose one over another, "Lewis Carroll" is an interesting example. While teaching at Christ Church, Oxford, Charles Dodgson (Carroll) wrote comic literature and parodies for a humorous paper,The Train. The first of the several pieces submitted to The Train was signed "B. B." It was so popular that the editor asked Dodgson to use a proper nom de plume; at first, Dodgson proposed "Dares," after his birthplace, Daresbury. The editor thought that the name was too journalistic, so after struggling over a number of choices, Dodgson wrote to his editor and suggested a number of variations and anagrams, based on the letters of his actual name. "Lewis Carroll" was finally decided on, derived from a rearrangement of most of the letters in the name "Charles Lutwidge Dodgson." Clearly, Carroll was fascinated with anagrams, and he will use them throughout Alice's Adventures in Wonderland; his interest in anagrams also explains much about the writings in his later life, and his mathematical works. Concerning Carroll, one cannot safely exclude any influence, least of all hereditary ones, but a good case can be made for the formative effect of Carroll's father on him. Those who knew Reverend Dodgson said that he was a pious and gloomy man, almost devoid of any sense of humor. Yet from his letters to his son, there is recorded evidence of a remarkable sense of fun. For example, in one letter to his son, he speaks of screaming in the middle of a street:
Iron-mongers-Iron-mongers — Six hundred men will rush out of their shops in a moment — fly, fly, in all screwdriver, & a ring, & if they are not brought directly, in forty seconds I will leave nothing but one small cat alive in the whole town of Leeds, & I shall only leave that because I shall not have time to kill it.
To a boy of eight, such correspondence from his father must have greatly heightened his later love for literary exaggeration; indeed, such fanciful letters may have been the genesis for Carroll's so-called nonsense books.
As we noted, Reverend Dodgson was said to be an austere, puritanical, and authoritarian Victorian man; Lewis Carroll's mother, however, was the essence of the Victorian "gentlewoman." As described by her son, she was "one of the sweetest and gentlest women that had ever lived, whom to know was to love." The childhood of Lewis Carroll was relatively pleasant, full of ideas and hobbies that contributed to his future creative works. His life at Daresbury was secluded, though, and his playmates were mostly his brothers and sisters. Class distinctions did not permit much socializing between children of the parsonage and the "lesser" parish children. Curiously, a number of the Dodgson children, including Carroll, stammered severely. More than one author has suggested that, at least in Carroll's case, his stammer may have arisen from his parents' attempts to correct his left-handedness. Isa Bowman, a childhood friend of Carroll's, has said that whenever adults approached them on their walks, Carroll's speech became extremely difficult to understand. Apparently, he panicked; his shyness and stammering always seemed worse when he was in the world of adults. This stammering made him into a bit of a "loner" and explains, somewhat, Carroll's longtime fascination with puzzles and anagrams, solitary games to amuse himself. It was as though the long suppressed, left-handed self endured in the fanciful, literary adult Carroll — in contrast to the very stern adult librarian, mathematics lecturer, deacon, dormitory master, and curator of the dining hall. Carroll was, seemingly, the archetype of the left-handed man in a right-handed world, like his own White Knight in Through the Looking Glass (the sequel to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland).
And now if ever by chance I put
My fingers into glue
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
Into a left-hand shoe . . .