dumbfoundry

In our era of homogeneity in everything, including literary celebrity, the publication by Anvil of this slim volume of translations of a Polish poet presents the English reader with a rare opportunity. Here's a famous name, on a par with Lermontov's or Browning's, yet it can be dropped with every expectation of silence and a blank stare in reply. "Norwid? Who he?" Why, Cyprian Kamil Norwid, 1821-83, peer of Mickiewicz, friend of Chopin, part of the Polish school curriculum.

It is equally rare, in the English-speaking world, to come across a work of translation that is a labour of love, a painstakingly crafted instrument that resonates with the melody and the mystery of the original, rather than a factory-made music box. Adam Czerniawski has been working on his English Norwid since he was a schoolboy, publishing his versions in magazines from the 1950s onward. He translated only what came - only as much as he could - never aiming for monumentality or completeness. These are telltale signs of a conscientious translator of poetry, and the translations collected here are an exercise in sensitivity and precision. Useful as they ever are, these qualities are indispensable in approaching Norwid.

This entry was posted by eeksypeeksy on Friday, June 11, 2004 at 9:45 AM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.