TRANSLATION, REWRITING AND THE MANIPULATION OF LITERARY FAME Segue André Lefevere 7k i oh 38 Sh tH Hi tt "i it SHANGHAI FOREIGN LANGUAGE EDUCATION PRESS:pice, te Por hag meek: J pS tie cpitua be Nee at eo Ee, A a SOU Mia pua pe a Ara Me eo ccc hp ele (OMe Se ee are COD ee a Mi Sami OL Le ee oo pF ore ACU lee) Mme ard MODE te SE (crea) es uy) a Pb a Op Un ae ct NOL Usha ts OO oe ok | Saba ele Mtr Tat Ben eS ee) cease S00 Ui sud pees de ee LOE SSSI SCE Ip Usa Cee ab Aare as 208 chs me ORE pS eo ONT el) Pie as0be spec a pe tang SUR eee eee ee EL Dead SCE CNS Ue euk pi eoL UU aaee Se) CLEP aL Uip a Act i Diane Ace cea bese Li EDS pE acc eee pee eae Oe Pred VES ND eae me Oe Bd Eo ee Gta ee ete 4 cade ) (Translating Poetry: Seven Strategies Eek T=) - i ae ee aL Ae) (Translation/History/Culture : A Source- [ofele) 9 Ii 19.00 36EMER RAG Zo +A TRANSLATION, REWRITING AND THE MANIPULATION OF LITERARY FAME HIVE, BC SUBD EA Hts André Lefevere BOE SR WE teh BM RH 29) AL SAANGHAL FORE)HEB ER (CIP) SE BE, ASU REY BE / (BE) BYTE SBAR (Lefevere, A), SFE. — ba: LeeSMRSCHT MME, 2010 (SPAETH AB) ISBN 978-7-5446-1848-9 1. OM 1. OM OB-~ Ml. OEM HHH TV. H059 "ABR AREEB RCIPRB EE (2010) 90859475 BF: 09-2009-4715 Andre Lefevere: Translation, Rewriting and the Manipulation of Literary Fame Copyright©1992 by Routledge All rights reserved. Published by arrangement with Taylor & Francis Books Ltd, 2 & 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, OX14 4RN, UK. Licensed for sale in the Mainland of China only; booksellers found selling this title outside the Mainland of China will be liable to prosecution. FB vty BAY +s BA INT A RRL AE AL BP OEP EA RSARIEA HE, POSE. BORA. Copies of this book sold without a Taylor & Francis sticker on the cover are unauthorized and illegal. ARABH TMG AT Taylor & Francis} i] Pr PYtRSE, ALARA. HAAR a2tF, OL Re Sh SCNT os A CLM EE ASA) Me: 200083 TH: 021-65425300 (Se) ere, bookinfo@sflep com.cn cT dE: http://www sflep com cn http // www sflep com REAR. Ph ep Al: EEK SR RRARAA & A: Bi LM RATT Pim AR: s90x1240 132 AK 6.28 M28 AR YR: 2010 466 AB 1 MR 2010 £6 6 ASK 1 ENB Ep BM 3 100m 5 S: ISBN 978-7-5446-1848-9 / H + 0815 % ft: 19.00 76, PLATO, FTATRANSLATION, REWRITING AND THE MANIPULATION OF LITERARY FAME André Lefevere ILE 6 ey oh London and New YorkFirst published 1992 by Routledge 11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE Simultaneously published in the USA and Canada by Routledge a division of Routledge, Chapman and Hall, Inc. 29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001 © 1992 André Lefevere All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. © 1992 André Lefevere Published by arrangement with Taylor and Francis Books Ltd, 11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE, UK. Licensed for sale throughout China.th AR BL BA EK, HAMFHARAT RAL, BRAIN ABW TSE. RO, KRW, BA SHE RU SEE BZ, ALGRMAREIF RR, Bt, AU BRSLT FEN SOBRE, ROMMRULARBEFTE, ET AAA EB WRRAEAT RIE. BPI, ENE ST OL A TER AMEE BAA BATH BAAS 5 EY BS Sh FHRCHOBA, PUREE UTR, AY, RADE THSTEMERBM, KARBRNCSN BERK, BH BH, DARL, HANES E OMY IZ, PARRA TH, PABPAMWAR, LEARNT SW ERE SL PRABZR CES PAB HAMS ERE SEAR ALTE HATSRRE EE“Tl SD NTE HE FE DA a” SRB AS EEBA FAK LEK NER HEEEA (WERZH AY) YtS AUNHLH HW APR SLR EM SEH S BARA FH FAR mat kK > RMR PEP BHR ERA BA (RSH AF) Lee £2 FT LEY LAM APS ART HIER UMA Ne MRR BRE RAR REM WRAL HEM Tie FL ELA eM LPL REM REM FH FAK Fite KAR MRR RAF Kot Ff MLA REE HR RRA RUB BAG BGK SE HAR BR Be a € wh th B®fi 2 A @ 8 CF) EMI E BCR HALAL BLE VAR — BL A Be BS OL NH RACH. ANENAARES aK REAASHRERK) EEA TERRA, BEALAL, MARKS A. SPAS RAN PRA MPR TE, Wa “SME JAR” | “ARSENY FE SSRN” | “SERIE IO PRIA” | “SE ICA SE DB” “SICA BAH”. “RARE” URAABR BABAK DOHA ORB EIR CH. ST S. HT BVREAKLERALAENRE, CURT HERE a. ORS. BOM. BATA, SNS Se BUSSE, REEMA ER BR SERTRURE AMAA FET ARERR AME, TOE SEH. KESNERSO wey. EHX MARR RY RRA MBA ANE, MESS MEST ERER EA T RRNA, BOMB RO INAIHL AL LOAFER HS BAPE Dy DEE AE EE MARNWBROAA TEL AMBER CAREKD). OINES MEAS SEAEAS SC, RSE ILA A SCRA WE AYRE, HEE VA BR BR I Ti HALAL. RHBER WAT CMHAARRRSN BERR, FAL RRR EE. ERE BCP EH AL SB RASS FMGFRBRORE, MAH RA LT OFA aE SAME KR, BLT ORM “RSNA”, EA HABE AE RS, SBA AEE RS EA BE AY BRAS, MOEA, HAT HM, CA BEE ER.SOE IA AY HS SET DA A EB MES BS ES HA, ATUAKERER EAS SRE RMN, REED A RAAB ITA FF th ALE SE HY SEW ZF, AZ BR, EAB OMAR FREAK EER SEEN A RN RR. HE PLAN RERMT RA ER TH MNRADRAAA. EMA PEO RESE, SPE EOI, SRE BARBS HAART, RAKE STARA HEA T, FTRMNARSRGBEA ERED SEN ESRC, KET FHWA, CRTRUK, ERAS REM RR, REA HARM, MELERA SF 20 A804 KAA TRUER TEAS, 9O7ER AT BAY BR SE BLA Se EVA IG Tk AR WSWRATESHRT. RRFARRN MAMTA, RAM AE LEAs MAAS Ha BE, WT RS A A EE EE FOR, MPU, RAS UR EA aN TRZ—. RM, Ke (MHERASRR) ASHARRRALK RWAWER, SALAMRHSSAMR , AUR MES e TK, RAAB RAA GRE EAS AIM, ARERR T KH HR AKARA AA MES, EM EAA SR DFA PRSP ADEE. Bea th ACRE — FE oH EEA S| PEP AB HN IE EE SAM RRA. Hae BRP ASRE 20014F3 28Hwe ERR - WARIBIR (André Lefevere, 1946-1996) JE IE# i Lt AUNT A RAZED, hE, ERR, URE, BE ATR NMER, ATEN NR. R503 BA SL TSE, (LR CRA BA OE EE WBE AMR. HAASE, OAR ARIE ESI Oe MT SM, FUMRB. SH RTE RIAA Le, SES RE A RETRETEAMALPR YT, MARA — HREM BR, WA, BEL-RAAI, RULE A BAMBARA IM, CEA TR Ti ELE RP OE NTE BY. SPHRELI, BO RBOAWHSE, ATT, TERE PLORSAAT, KARR MHASERTEEM, AU, MO FART ERMA ERMA. AR, BREE AStPMen, RSE EMM, EMP LE, HH SUE ST ARORA, KPH RRR TEM, RR, MRAM FEM ASR, WRAL Selb. BASS RH EAW, —AB) MIME. RARE EK FLSA PEAT AR, BE es A TD a ERA} ABR, ARERR Pr EE, Ah LEE EAA AED TTA SRK ERBB—H, (ASME “MH” (rewriting) RHEE. HE FA, MT SPREE. OCS. SER. HNL ee BATHS. BRARR—AAS, AIMS RAEN. TE MSE, SERA, POA SARAAM RETALARA, WAGES SH TAL AL eI BE TEE RESMBEFESNT. BHAT, PENT RET AERA FU REAY TE fl — FF ELE TR. OG, RAEI FAL - 4 (John Donne) BNFRYE, ZEA HIE BRIO Tt Se, MATS CAAA “RRM” MRAM. AP “ERE” HAST 201140202 4048 (RAY “BEBE” FERAL 20 WE TOMOOE RARE, SEAT. BEER “AZESt (” ERE, TRA CHBAN AER, MR, AAA “die HOHE” ORME, JURA, RYSEMM MS UN) EMRAT FRASER ACSA PBSYRZ ADA. AEB UH. BAIS SERED, SCORE BB SB 4) 28 es HE (high) AUS (low) PYF. HEM, ERRBMMERH, RAE EBRD ATH. KSA SW HEA MATER, AG AL UR, HS (BA RWS) RAT MCE. PIR BAAASHK, RHERRASRE HT EM MEK, BSE APC WALA EA BE CELE) WW, REE HLA FRC. WS Pay AEP RAS TA, ASL TUR - SEAR “RN” OAR “PEAR, CARA AR WAT. BRIER “BEAR” AM PULSAR. ) WR, BUS MHRA, BSA, EE, Hy sez YMA, PACES AS RA, EMAAR, SB 4 PERU A AE YE 1933 78 194545 HR, BER ASNE (AOAA) REE, MEAS AR A, HIE AAI (PRR), EMR T “KK”. AT RARSAS MH 4H EME ES A, AEA SE AE BLA 18424 EE (RAGA HAR. BRB Ay BRE “SURSOGE A” GOT ZTE AAT ROE - AFR TEAY IBZ SR) PYAR TELE T — TRI SORE, VABERHIIA “BLA AUER” AOS, RAMP, BST hy MEER TE AEF. HERES HERNIA ARAS RRM REA, HFETE ATE RASA RABE «TEASE SEN ETE ABER «it TRY (SFR). ERRBEAH, ERERU HH ASRRE AANA REA ENED BT, PAE ee, Ha FOIE. FRA, TERUN, Pere 4S HAAR PEP, BT ET AE RENT, BOER RIES “PER” ABE, SeG AN ATR. CR_BABH LE, FHRAGMAAARANAAR: “SHH A” (patronage) Fl “t#2#” (poetics), MTA, TE TRF WANS LEEKT RRR EMNS . BEY “SHA” aT DA EF A BB BB A SE SC BN A OC A RE ZS BER, HT ASEAN A BSH ASRS, AE SOEXNZA, “HE” OREM THREE, HELPER, HRMSALL TEST, (AE “RR” (system) FARA. HEE RTA, BR RAKIER” XE RBARAKAKAN ARAL —. CARS BET EE fil, —AVEARBIN, GUATPICR. BU. eS, RAAT AT K-2 RSs, LESH EMS Se WERE SATE TRS, AP ASNBN, BBA, REA BE AAKHE, (HIT RASA EES MRL, RORRT EM RMEREABASW ER, KAM, WBA RIE BREAN, CLALRKHPF BSNS. CARAS AR TER CME MaKe (BAPE, Fil) BIHAR. PARVATI KHZ AM, POA LAMM HERR ABS SEMA, HAHBLKD AAS. H4ASHWARAH, “SEA” AMAR MAAR, BASIL. As Sn HL PO OP TES OR IRA TRE BEA SCS ASO KE THEE, PAD He AVA A TR PE REM ROT, BREA RPE RAAER. RRO BEE SALE RT RSA ET PEP, HUTT 4 DORAN, AHH. (HSUTR PR ART, ERR 7G HH SCHAKAT , HAMEE AHIR BET, aR RIA vPUES EAS Ea, at A BS a SB AA ERMLAKRELERR REEMA ESMIRER. HH SHAT DL, SERRATE AS AEP TE AS BS BEAR A BE BA A OA BANE, TERUFEIERIET , SCRA ARITVA HABLA RITE PEFR FEE A. ART, PE RNP TEL RE REK IB A PURELY, BURR AREA, BPE ae RAE PSAAMKEAEKS CRORE MOR, ZHKEKRRS TR. EES WEL, APRS ARTA: ERS Yi, PRR. PLE, AAR, AR SMES, SE ELT TEI. De TR TER PET SAL A CEE EMA BEE | RE RU A TY, PET A ARBRE ET — Fee a a. ZERIT, “HE SRR” BSMAMAT GEA). CER), UR AAR CH SO), CHS ANTS BERBER Nga AE PES HER, CAABEEARTE, BAe BD SMEAR ABH S.-Y OTT RR EAE KREBUSRS, AT SRAMAAR OLN, AEE PB, RRNA BCE, HABANA BEA RAR, {2 REWAA, AURAAR, AT RAURS SZ ARERR EH BH, WAH, REE, BAP LHe RUA Bee %, AA, BRSAFZEWXERNUAREREVBSAE, E ONT REAR. MOK, RAL ES. WEVA, MEDERMA RET EXER AEBS ZA He ee RE, RO eS ARE. KS, ERAME, RAB TRAKAMARES. Hil “SUS” ARSUREUIT CAKE, 46 “RRL” NRK ER — ME BH. ABBR, EPR Te BMT, PRATER HE RI A ESA SEB AE a a SEP ERI SSS AS HN). MISH, ASR POR AR, Be BERRAwi ABFESSH MAK, BNP MH, FEFRUIBE, MER. SRE F 2S oh Hie A FESS OR A Lysistrata, MICE AMT RAVER BADE EA APR AIR, MED “MRA Se SBR, KEM sathes aget@ Mbt.” ATH “sathes age” WAL Sty “SEA TERS” © AT RAAT HAA MARA, AAT AY BERNER, A A" A “RE, hae “HO? BY, DEK SEALER FERRARI, Sb, Lysistrata PERAAA RARE S RAURD OES aH, SEER AME WARBLER, RAS a, Fate CARA PEC SE BEF AE RR, the RUE, OC SRASER, Alt, “ez” (traduttore) BARRE “HAE” (traditore) AVIS, ARB FREE. EVP ILEB, FAU-PRRE RES S EAM TR AVM, HRABE LURE RRA) OME Re BRA, KHENLAZA MEARS AY CH BETA). RAGA RRALE ER - PAREN MINH TR, RAR BREA PRAT AB, HA WHE BAM AEN. He, HRANWAHARR, BR AIRE SUERAARSN, MYCE AMMAR, HK HRT SPECS HME, RERAMRSA (GME) BRA RAMRMOARABVNELL WLM T . MRL, BSCE AB BANKS BAT ibH ACRE AER AERA). BB A, SOLFO FOU ETM TAKS RU ARERR PORK, MARTE “ER” (AERIAL) High AR RAGA TA ET LT. BES 1, RERKSAMFRARLE, ATRL TEREREOA PERSHH SARS. PEEBARH READ, WPS CHEE EWU AD. Hes RS CEL eames Kritzeck Mie ik, Aa AA (BER) (UR (-FE-R)) SE, EPA RBK, RXR ARAM. FHA, RoR BASvill ES “RRA ER ASHE” Wigasidanteth (BORE EM RPE PAB RPGR RBA), ERLE RRB 7, ECP AMMAR) PHRAR MAR. FWA, gasidahty iA 4E PID BNO, TET RAE HAA BE AE WERE RA, EDL, BREE “ae” Pie S, Alt, CESRAEKRARERASEYEMAT ZH. (PEE SH, RATA AR, RTS CAR, EB RAMS ER FSR EE CE, TA RE ROI, Alt, PARR RARAB SHR, See ERM. BRAM “Ra” (universe of discourse, HEHE TRE BMSMAA) FB. aa — ice ARoscommon{et EK GESME) PHBE RAM, NANNERL Fay SE PEN ER AACA A EN FIC EE, AK SR, SSE, NERC HREM, OAR ER SE RE HA, AHN A RIER. BUNA SH ARAM KARA, BUA VRE PRAIA, REX ISA, URSA SUR “ScesLAR” (cultural scripts) SARWEAB, FH EEX PR EE SIRT SB A ed YE TT AE SB, VUE, ALR RARER, CARY mR il tT BEG. LANE, KRMRTSOER-BF CHAE, BE AM. (hii, RE, FEE, ATARI RT a A R, DGGE AAAR BG, RAPP “TAREE” (illocutionary strategies) HA, CEMENT, HTMEMA MRR TRZ PUR RRB MM ACAI, MAA HE OR DRAA, ARR, WEINER, TBM AZ AGHA WB. RA, KAM RILO RIAA A, BARRE BHORERUS, FEES. EMS, MBDA ES. EE Bt, PHRAP CARR AM (Catullus) eA DST RR, DARA EZ, REECE, MERE AIA. TERREx Ab, HHH, EARERVSHARMYM, SER EH, PURE “EOC”. WHER BRAS ERM. eK SAMCAMLS TE RMVMEKTES, Alt, EPMO, HEAR AR CRERA SUL PRE, PPR RALA RIA RUSHES EMEA RA ALAR SAR: —ARL, — Ame, SEF, DESH. ° ERE LB UER T 17 th eh — ee AH ER Willem Godschalk van Focquenbrochyiea#, lt A tH DAKE A Scarron ORAL, REAR RA RRS bt EA ER, HeFocquenbroch# tit BKA-THEP, HEE ERE AK, (MRA SEMKSAS. BUT AFAA, (ERAT. HAR ER, MAS ULP SH ts, REBT RATAANERAR, 1X PEKWRER ERIE? BRE, VEMRMARELH “ER” 1, RH SANT WS — PBR SCE Hh SPIE ER, WS HTT AL—AMHAZMCR. Mill, FocquenbrochS ARMM EINES AMIMBE, R-, ERSTE, AAD RA HHRMABELARARE MED, FBR “wt SE”, EVAR RETAIN “NATL TNT AK GSA 8 A P4BA, Ho, ERVIATH, Focquenbrochtiy—tin ey KESTER VA Be SEA Fe AE IA PA BIE AR TRS 9 1TH 2 SAP PLATE RE A RA Ee ASF, ETA ARBRBRE, ROLE. MAMBA, URN (EB) FRR MIDRE. FEF, PEARY Focquenbroch Bit TREX, WM -AMLEAOE EDS TILER. HERB, NFER REHAS, SLA, AR, CHRRRRAKHAS RHATK, MELE, CHE PERPIHKE, TRH RVESRAFCSURE, ROERAERNRESE, BARA 28, FRU, MZATHOA, AHR RAH. Fie, ERR, PDEA A PER. HTH Bh, HATLARERA MEAS ESW ORR AIA SYRAR, USA TARR ARE IK, RA SEA SE, EM, AY, BAGH SHEE BRIT A RR EE BUERER, HERR AOMO. KARTE AUR RE BE DUAR SORIA JE BALL PERK «RE aE ALE EN Hl, SPAT AMHE IR TESS TTT ERATE FB +R T EH KRM RAA BS, ROCA MPRA MBER BM SARK. 18174 MIA AAR AT 1, MANGOH ANAL SER, BB A, TSE RCHBGAD, RARAWKA, HASMNOHS SRA PAM DHE, REAL Th JL 78, EL NB Se URSA, REFEREE POR IBC Ee, ALB A GOS, FRA BMER ADE, MAGE, SRL BRAM. PERE RT RNA A MN BERGE, MIKA RAMRRT BATES RT . ae, WER TAURI FHRAE, SHALE KSRA EMSA AMAT —aUL, BA HPeA, ART — RULE, AROAB AT. EST IEM BRE, AUR T OBER RA «ANY BIE (ARZID NMA. PTEREMAN ZS, RE SPLABRRA NOR, ADA REE, SORBED URE A ACHE tir A BAER PE HH A PRHSLT PAA ALEC BARRO PESCRAR «ARB ASE MHRA, MEAS - ROTH BTR. BER R\ERESHA RETA, SEURSNRMA GEE RBSHA BEMETERL, HAAN ARIEON TX NAIAREOE hy MB HY ES ok TE Z. SMM GURL) IRR RR, Heat BEKR. BEOAREP AWE, RBA LBEER BAA RAT PR ROR ERAS RT. Alt, Laie ECS MERE BE DEBEBARH ASE, MPR, SMR BPAE HS ARE RUT APE EN PP ORES, PA AAWAG RUT OM, AER, ARMIES ES, PR, STARZ, FRM ABORT, BUREA RE, ERNST. AS, TEMES AMAR, RE EARMARKS, ALAS RES MRA. Ast, BA ASHE “SE, HV RRE-HAS, SHAM EMSAM, ATLA EDEL SEA IEE T REET HE. KAR SE te, RU EAREMES EAR APRIL Ih, SRN BEANE, HEAL ARUAY AT ERS A REA ERR, xk RB, PBSKRAMZ. LF 2010484 xiGeneral editors’ preface The growth of Translation Studies as a separate discipline is a success story of the 1980s. The subject has developed in many parts of the world and is clearly destined to continue developng well into the 21st century. Translation studies brings together work in a wide variety of fields, including linguistics, literary study, history, anthropology, psychology and economics. This series of books will reflect the breadth of work in Translation Studies and will enable readers to share in the exciting new developments that are taking place at the present time. Translation is, of course, a rewriting of an original text. All rewritings, whatever their intention, reflect a certain ideology and a poetics and as such manipulate literature to function in a given society in a given way. Rewriting is manipulation, undertaken in the service of power, and in its positive aspect can help in the evolution of a literature and a society. Rewritings can introduce new concepts, new genres. new devices and the history of translation is the history also of literary innovation, of the shaping power of one culture upon another. But rewriting can also repress innovation, distort and contain, and in an age of ever increasing manipulation of all kinds, the study of the manipulation’ processes of literature as exemplified by translation can help us towards a greater awareness of the world in which we live. Since this series of books on Translation Studies is the first of its kind, it will be concerned with its own genealogy. It will publish texts from the past that illustrate its concerns in the present, and will publish texts of a more theoretical nature immediately addressing those concerns, along with case studies illustrating manipulation through rewriting in varous literatures. It will be comparative in nature and will range through many literary traditions both Western and non-Western. Through the concepts of rewriting and manipulation, this series aims to tackle the problem ofXvi General editors’ preface ideology, change and power in literature and society and so assert the central function of translation as a shaping force. Susan Bassnett André Lefevere 1990Contents a wne General editors’ preface Prewrite The system: patronage ‘The system: poetics Translation: the categories Lifelines, noses, legs, handles: the Lysistrata of Aristophanes Translation: ideology On the construction of dif ferent Anne Franks Translation: poetics The case of the missing qasidah Translation: Universe of Discourse “Holy Garbage, tho by Homer cook’t” ‘Translation: language Catullus’ many sparrows Historiography From bestseller to non-person: Willem Godschalk van Focquenbroch Anthology Anthologizing Africa Criticism Beyond her gender: Madame de Staél vii 1 26 41 59 73 87 99 lll 124 13812 Editing 150 * Salvation through mutilation: Biichner’s Danton’ s Death References 161 Index 170Chapter 1 Prewrite It is an amusement for me to take what Liberties I like with these Persians, who (as I think) are not Poets enough to frighten one from such excursions, and who really do want a little Art to shape them. (Edward Fitzgerald xvi) This book deals with those in the middle, the men and women who do not write literature, but rewrite it- It does so because they are, at present, responsible for the general reception and survival of works of literature among non-professional readers, who constitute the great majority of readers in our global culture, to at least the same, if not a greater extent than the writers them- selves. What is usually referred to as “the intrinsic value” of a work of literature plays much less of a part in this than is usually assumed. As is well known, the poetry of John Donne remained relatively unknown and unread from a few ‘decades after his death until his rediscovery by T.S. Eliot and other modernists. Yet it is safe to assume that the “intrinsic value” of his poems must have been the same all along. Similarly, many “forgotten” feminist classics originally published in the twenties, thirties, and forties of our century have been republished in the late seventies and eighties. The actual content of the novels was, presumably, no less feminist then than it is now, since we are dealing with exactly the same texts. The reason why the republished feminist classics are not forgotten all over again lies not in the intrinsic value of the texts themselves, or even the (possible) lack thereof, but in the fact that they are now being published against the background of an impressive array of2 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame feminist criticism, which advertises, incorporates, and supports them. Whoever identifies the goal of literary studies as such with the interpretation of texts will either have no explanation for these phenomena, or else have somewhat embarrassed recourse to vague notions such as fate. It is my contention that the process resulting in the acceptance or rejection, canonization or non- canonization of literary works is dominated not by vague, but by very concrete factors that are relatively easy to discern as soon as one decides: to look for them, that is as soon as one eschews interpretation as the core literary studies and begins to address issues such as power, ideology, institution, and manipulation. As soon as one does this, one also realizes that rewriting in all its forms occupies a dominant position among the concrete factors just referred to. This book is an attempt to emphasize both the importance of rewriting as the motor force behind literary evolution, and the necessity for further in-depth study of the phenomenon. Rewriters have always been with us, from the Greek slave who put together anthologies of the Greek classics to teach the children of his Roman masters, to the Renaissance scholar who collated various manuscripts and scraps of manuscripts to publish a more or less reliable edition of a Greek or Roman classic; from the seventeenth-century compilers of the first histories of Greek and Latin literature not to be written in either Greek or Latin, to the nineteenth-century critic expounding the sweetness and the light contained in works of classical or modern literature to an increasingly uninterested audience; from the twentieth-century translator trying to “bring the original across” cultures, as so many genterations of translators tried before, to the twentieth-century compiler of “Reader’s Guides” that provide quick reference to the authors and books that should have been read as part of the education of the non-professional reader, but go increasingly unread. Their role has changed, though, and for two main reasons: the end of a period in at least Western civilization in which the book occupied a central position in both the teaching of writing and the transmission of values, and the split between “high” and “low” literature that began to take place toward roughly the middle of the nineteenth century, and led to a concomitant splitPrewrite 3 between “high” and “low” writing about literature, “high” and “low” rewriting. In his 1986 Presidential Address to the members of the Modern Language Association of America, J. Hillis Miller observed that “our common culture, however much we might wish it were not so, is less and less a book culture and more and more a culture of cinema, television, and popular music” (285a). Professional readers of literature (I use the term to designate both teachers and students of literature) recognize the development that is taking place, and they may privately react to this state of affairs with indignation, cynicism, or resignation, but the great majority among them continues to conduct business as usual, not least because the position they occupy within the institutions shelter~ ing them leaves them very little choice indeed: degrees must be awarded, appointments made, tenure given, and promotions granted. The fact that “high” literature is increasingly read only in an educational setting (both secondary and higher education), but does no longer constitute the preferred reading matter of the non- professional reader, has also increasingly limited the influence of the professional reader to educational institutions. No present-day critic can still claim the stature in society at large that was once enjoyed as a matter of course by, say, Matthew Arnold. Maybe the most obvious illustration of the contemporary isolation of both high literature and the study thereof has been provided by the vastly different impact of deconstruction on professional and non- professional readers. Whereas professional readers appear more or less convinced that deconstruction has, indeed, knocked away the very foundations of Western metaphysics, non-professional readers cannot be said to have paid overmuch attention to this momentous fact, certainly not nearly as much as they can be said to have paid to such mundane issues as health insurance and the stability of financial institutions. If educational institutions increasingly function as a “reserva- tion” where high literature, its readers, and its practitioners are allowed to roam in relative, though not necessarily relevant freedom, they also further contribute to the isolation of the professional reader. Professional readers need to publish in order to advance up the professional ladder, and the pressures of publication relentlessly lead to “the progressive trivialization of topics” that has indeed made the annual meetings of the Modern4 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame Language Association of America “a laughing stock in the national press” ( Walter Jackson Bate quoted in Johnson I). Needless to say, this “progressive trivialization” also serves to undermine further the, professional reader’s prestige outside the charmed circle drawn around him, or her, by educational institu- tions. Yet within those institutions business does go on as usual, and it would appear that the majority of professional readers of literature has not yet grasped the paradoxical change that has taken place. Most professional readers of literature would not normally “stoop” to produce rewriting of the kind whose evolution through the centuries has been briefly charted above. They would see their “real” work as what non-professional readers would sorely be tempted to categorize under the heading of “ progressive trivialization.” That work, it is safe to state, hardly ever reaches the non-professional reader. Paradoxically, the only work produced within the charmed circle that still reaches that reader is precisely the type of rewriting most professional readers would tend to treat with a certain disdain. Yet the translation, editing, and anthologizatoin of texts, the compilation of literary histories and reference works, and the production of the kind of criticism that still reaches out beyond the charmed circle, mostly in the guise of biographies and book reviews, no longer function as typically low- level activities within the wider framework of the interaction between professional and non-professional readers, between institutions of education and society at large. These types of rewriting used to be considered activities of a more “ancillary” kind. Yet by no means did they always play that role— witness the enormous impact of some translations, such as Luther’s Bible translation, on both the literature and society of their time and beyond. Today, however, they have become the lifeline that more and more tenuously links “high” literature to the non-professional reader. The non-professional reader increasingly does not read literature as written by its writers, but as rewritten by its rewriters. It has always been that way, but it has never appeared as obvious as it does today. In the past, too, many more people read the Authorized Version than read the Bible in its various original languages. Very few people had access to the actual manuscripts of the classics, and most readers were content, or had to be content with reading them in an edition. In fact, their trust was so greatPrewrite 5 that they could occasionally be misled by convincing editions of non- existing manuscripts, as in the case of McPherson’s Ossian. Byron and his generation did not read Goethe’s Faust in German, but in the abbreviated French version contained in Madame de Staél’s best-selling De l’Allemagne (On Germany) Pushkin read the Byron he admired so much in French, not in English, and certainly not in Russian, a language he would speak only to his servants. Ezra Pound invented Chinese poetry for the West by means of an anthology of “translated” Tang-dynasty poets, and Samuel Johnson obviously influenced the subsequent reception of the poets he included (and failed to include) in his Lives of the English Poets. In the past, as in the present, rewriters created images of a writer, a work, a period, a genre, sometimes even a whole literature. These images existed side by side with the realities they competed with, but the images always tended to reach more people than the corresponding realities did, and they most certainly do so now. Yet the creation of these images and the impact they made have not often been studied in the past, and are still not the object of detailed study. This is all the more strange since the power wielded by these images, and therefore by their makers, is enormous. It becomes much less strange, though, if we take a moment to reflect that rewritings are produced in the service, or under the constraints, of certain ideological and/or poetological currents, and that such currents do not deem it to their advantage to draw attention to themselves as merely “one current among others.” Rather, it is much more to their advantage to identify themselves quite simply with something less partisan, more prestigious, and altogether irreversible like “the course of history.” The non-professional reader of German literature, for ins- tance, would have been extremely hard-pressed to find any poem by Heinrich Heine in anthologies of German poetry published between 1933 and 1945. In fact, the only poem by him that was included in those anthologies, the popular (too popular, in fact, to suppress) “Loreley,” was labeled “anonymous.” Obviously, whatever professional readers of German history, put those anthologies together knew that it would not benefit their professional advancement to ascribe the poem to Heinrich Heine. It would benefit their professional advancement even less if, in an inexplicable attack of professional honesty, they would have stated6 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame in an introduction, or a footnote, why such a course of action would not have benefited their professional advacement. Histories of literature published at the same time would have told non- professional and professional readers alike, as Adolf Bartels did in his history of German literature, that “only Heine’s vanity and arrogance were ever gigantic, and gigantic was the stupidity of the German people, that has for so long believed those who told it that he was one of their great writers” (335). As he proudly states in the preface to the 1943 edition of his history, Bartels was duly rewarded by the dominant ideological current: not only was he awarded the highest medal for achievement in the cultural field; he even received a personal congratulatory letter from Adolf Hitler on his birthday in that year. Admittedly the example of Germany between 1933 and 1945 is somewhat extreme, as would be the example of the Eastern part of Germany between 1945 and 1989. Yet the existence of the image, and its previous construction, are the important point in all this. Images constructed by rewriters play just as important a part in societies more open in nature than those mentioned above; it’s just that there are more images to choose from. If non-professional readers of literature were to be asked who Chrostopher Marlowe was, for instance, they are not likely to go and read Marlowe’s collected works. Rather, they are likely to look up the name in a rewriting like the Ox ford Companion to English Literature. If they need, or want to know more, they will probably consult some of the currently available histories of English literature. They might also call to mind productions of Dr Faustus for the stage or for the screen. When non-professional readers of literature (and it should be clear by now that the term does not imply any value judgment whatsoever. It merely refers to the majority of readers in contemporary societies) say they have “read” a book, what they mean is that they have a certain image, a certain construct of that book in their heads. That construct is often loosely based on some selected passages of the actual text of the book in question (the passages included in anthologies used in secondary or university education, for instance), supplemented by other texts that rewrite the actual text in one way or another, such as plot summaries in literary histories or reference works, reviews in newspapers, magazines, or journals, some critical articles, performances on stage or screen, and last but not least, translations.Prewrite 7 Since non-professional readers of literature are, at present, exposed to literature more often by means of rewritings than by means of writings, and since rewritings can be shown to have had a not negligible impact on the evolution of literatures in the past, the study of rewritings should no longer be neglected. Those engaged in that study will have to ask themselves who rewrites, why, under what circumstances, for which audience. They owe what is probably one of the first statements of the “doctrine” of rewriting in Western literature to St Augustine. When faced with the fact that a fair number of pages in the Bible could, to put it mildly, not be said to correspond too closely to the kind of behavior the then still relatively young Christian Church expected from its members, he suggested that these passages should, quite simply, be interpreted, “rewritten,” until they could be made to correspond to the teachings of the Church. If a scriptural passage, Augustine observed, “seems to commend either vice or crime or to condemn either utility or beneficence,” that passage should be taken as “figurative” and “subjected to diligent scrutiny until an interpretation contributing to the reign of charity is produced” (93). Augustine’s situation is exemplary for that of all rewriters. He was obviously influenced by the fact that he occupied a certain position within a certain institution, as all rewriters are. Toward the end of his life he occupied a somewhat elevated position in an organization based on a certain ideology that had therefore a vested interest in preserving that ideology and in combating and destroying rival ideologies. Other rewriters would occupy posi- tions at courts, in educational institutions, and in publishing houses. If some rewritings are inspired by ideological motivations, or produced under ideological constraints, depending on whether rewriters find themselves in agreement with the dominant ideol- ogy of their time or not, other rewritings are inspired by poetological motivations, or produced under poetological con- straints. When Rufus Griswold published The Poets and Poetry of America in 1842 he stated in the preface that American poetry “is of the purest moral character” (Golding 289). He obviously wanted it to remain so and steadfastly refused to include later poets whose moral character he considered doubtful, such as Walt Whitman. His anthology therefore projected a slanted image, but one that functioned as reality for generations of professional and8 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame non-professional readers alike. Since it was widely read and since aspiring poets looked to it for models to emulate “it effectively controlled the moral and intellectual range of subject matter in canonical poetry” (Golding 289). When W.B. Yeats wrote a “Memoir” of Willam Blake for the edition of that poet's works he produced together with Edwen Ellis, and which was published in 1893, he literally invented the following ancestry for Blake: “the grandfather of William Blake was an Irish aristocrat named Joho O’Neil who took the name of his wife, ‘an unknown woman’ and became ‘Blake’ to escape imprisonment for debt” (Dorfman 205). By giving Blake an Irish grandfather, and therefore a Celtic lineage, Yeats could link Blake to the “Celtic Twilight” that was so important to him at that particular stage of his own poetic development. Needless to say, the Blake “constructed” by Yeats and Ellis “functioned” as the “real” Blake for readers of the 1893 edition, even though Yeats also unabashedly rewrote lines of Blake’s that he considered inferior. One of the most striking examples of the combination of ideological and poetological motivations/constraints is the epigraph to this chapter, taken from a letter written by Edward Fitzgerald, the enormously popular Victorian rewriter or the Persian poet Omar Khayyam. In fact, Fitzgerald’s Rubayyat is one of the most effective rewritings of the last century, and its influence makes itself felt deep into the present one. Ideologically Fitzgerald obviously thinks Persians inferio® to their Victorian English counterparts, a frame of mind that allows him to rewrite them in a way in which he would have never dreamed of rewriting Homer, or Virgil. Poetologically he thinks they should be made to read more like the dominant current in the poetry of his own time. Whether they produce translations, literary histories or their more compact spin-offs, reference works, anthologies, criticism, or editions, rewriters adapt, manipulate the originals they work with to some extent, usually to make them fit in with the dominant, or one of dominant ideological and poetological currents of their time. Again this may be most obvious in totalitarian societies, but different “interpretive communities” that exist in more open societies will influence the production of rewritings in similar ways. Madame de Staél, for instance, can be shown to have been rewritten in pro- or anti-Napoleon and pro- or anti-German termsPrewrite 9 during the French Second and Third Republics, which prided themselves on being among the most open societies of their time. Rewriting manipulates, and it is effective. All the more reason, then to study it. In fact, the study of rewriting might even be of some relevance beyond the charmed circle of the educational institution, a way to restore to a certain study of literature some of the more immediate social relevance the study of literature as a whole has lost. Students now “exist in the most manipulative culture human beings have ever experienced” (Scholes 15). Studying the processes involved in rewriting literature will not tell students how to live their lives (they are much more likely to turn to the screen for that kind of model), nor will it teach them to write well, the other traditional justification for the study of literature. But it might serve as some kind of model that enables them, of some extent, “to see through the manipulations of all sorts of texts in all sorts of media” (Scholes 15). A study of rewriting will not tell students what to do; it might show them ways of not allowing other people to tell them what to do. The same basic process of rewriting is at work in translation, historiography, anthologization, criticism, and editing. It is obviously also at work in other forms of rewriting, such as adaptations for film and television, but these are outside of my area of expertise and will therefore not be dealt with here. Since translation is the most obviously recognizable type of rewriting, and since it is potentially the most influential because it is able to project the image of an author and/or a (series of) work(s) in another culture, lifting that author and/or those works beyond the boundaries of their culture of origin, four chapters of this book will be devoted to the study of translated literature. Four more will be devoted to each of the other main forms of rewriting. As a heuristic construct for the study of rewriting I shall make use of the concept of “system,” first introduced into the domain of literary studies by the Russian Formalists, in the conviction that their models may indeed “provide direction for future enquiry” (Morson 2). I have opted for this concept because its basic tenets are relatively easy to explain, which has a distinct pedagogical advantage; because it promises to be “productive” in the sense that it may reveal problems of importance to. the study of rewriting that other heuristic constructs do not reveal; because it is “plausible” in the sense that it is also used in other disciplines, not just in literary studies, and to some advantage, which might also work against the growing10 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame isolation of literary studies within educational institutions; and because it provides a neutral, non-ethnocentric framework for the discussion of power and relationships shaped by power, which may benefit from a more dispassionate approach. I shall further introduce the concept of “system” in Chapter 2. With Alastair Fowler I believe that “in the last resort literary theory is only as comprehensive and as penetrating as the reading it is based on” (quoted in Cohen xiii). I have therefore tried to build this book on readings taken from different literatures: classical Greek, Latin, French, and German. In doing so, I hope to have escaped “one irony of current theories of historical ‘difference, ” which is that “they largely ignore different histories” (Morson 2). Finally, in -an attempt to overcome provincialism in literary scholarship, I have extended my readings to cover Afro English and Dutch literature. A fair number of examples have also been taken from Chinese, Arabic, and other non-Western literatures in an attempt to make this book free from the symptoms of literary provincialism “which are a widespread ignorance of non-Western literatures [and] an almost total ignorance of the smaller Western literatures” (Warnke 49). As a result, some of the material quoted is quoted in the guise of the most obvious rewriting of all: translation. All translations are my own. At a time when career advancement and other institutional considerations tend to further, or even necessitate the production of “high” rewritings of literature in the very speculative manner practiced by various guru figures (many younger people in the profession are likely to be given tenure or promoted on the basis of publications written in a manner of discourse they themselves would be the first to banish from any composition classes they teach), I have constructed the argument of this book on the basis of evidence that can be documented, and is. Since some of this material is not likely to be familiar to the average reader of this type of book, I have had liberal recourse to quotations from sources generally regarded as authoritative.Chapter 2 The system: patronage Poetrias ineditas scribam tibi, si me ditas. (Archipoeta 376) The concept of system was introduced into modern literary theory by the Russian Formalists. They viewed a culture as a complex “system of systems” composed of various sub- systems such as literature, science, and technology. Within this general system, extraliterary phenomena relate to literature not ina piecemeal fashion but as an interplay among sub- systems determined by the logic of the culture to which they belong. (Steiner 112) Some variants of sociological criticism, some criticism based on communications theory, and various strands of reader-response criticism have done much to create a climate in which it is once again possible to think about literature in terms of system. Recent attempts at elaborating a systems approach within literary studies have been undertaken by Claudio Guillen, Itamar Even-Zohar, Felix Voditka, and Siegfried J. Schmidt. Outside of literary studies the systems approach has mainly been championed in recent years by Niklas Luhmann, while Lyotard’s The Postmodern Condition takes its bearings from“Parson’s conception of society as a self-regulating system”(11). Unfortunately, as Dieter Schwanitz points out: “A great obstacle to the reception of systems theory by literary scholars, however, is its forbidding level of abstraction” (290). This is certainly borne out in the case of both Luhmann and Schmidt.12_ Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame However, since the present book does not attempt to contribute to any further elaboration of General Systems Theory, but rather tries to make use of systems thinking as a heuristic construct, | shall merely introduce the main concepts of systems thinking and show how they can be applied to the study of rewritings in a productive manner. When I use the word “system” in these pages, the term has nothing to do with “the System” (usually spelled with a capital S) as it increasingly occurs in colloquial usage to refer to the more sinister aspects of the powers that be, and against which there is no recourse. Within systems thinking the term“system” has no such Kafkaesque overtones. It is rather intended to be a neutral, descriptive term, used to designate a set of interrelated elements that happen to share certain characteristics that set them apart from other elements perceived as not belonging to the system. “Literature,” in Schmidt's words, can be analyzed as a complex social system of actions because it has a certain structure, an in-out differentiation, is accepted by society and fulfills functions which no other system in this society can fulfill. (563) Literature — a literature — can be analyzed in systemic terms. Systems thinking would call it a “contrived” system, because it consists both of texts (objects) and human agents who read, write, and rewrite texts. Even though the educational system gives the impression, especially in the case of the classics, that texts generated by men and women of genius are suspended in some timeless vacuum for our further edification, “classic texts, while they may or may not originally have been written by geniuses, have certainly been written and rewritten by the generations of professors and critics who make their living by them ” (Tompkins 37). The fact that literature is a contrived system should caution us against any attempt to force it into an analogy with physical or biological systems, which are amenable to a more rigid description. Literature is not a deterministic system, not“something” that will “take over” and “run things,” destroying the freedom of the individual reader, writer, and rewriter. This type of misconception can be traced back to the colloquial use of the term and must be dismissed as irrelevant. Rather, the system acts as a series of “constraints,” in the fullest sense of the word, on the reader,The system: patronage 13 writer, and rewriter. It is not my intention-to give the impression that there is a ruthless, unprincipled, and excessively cunning band of translators, critics, historiographers, editors, and anthologists “out there,” snickering as they systematically “betray” whichever work(s) of literature they are dealing with. On the contrary, most rewriters of literature are usually meticulous, hard-working, well-read, and as honest as is humanly possible. They just see what they are doing as obvious, the only way, even if that way has, historically, changed over the centuries. Translators, to lay the old adage to rest once and for all, have to be traitors, but most of the time they don’t know it, and nearly all of the time they have no other choice, not as long as they remain within the boundaries of the culture that is theirs by birth or adoption — not, therefore, as long as they try to influence the evolution of that culture, which is an extremely logical thing for them to want to do. What has been said about rewriters obviously also holds for writers. Both can choose to adapt to the system, to stay within the parameters delimited by its constraints — and much of what is perceived as great literature does precisely that — or they may choose to oppose the system, to try to operate outside its constraints; for instance by reading works of literature in other than the received ways, by writing works of literature in ways that differ from those prescribed or deemed acceptable at a particular time in a particular place, or by rewriting works of literature in such a manner that they do not fit in with the dominant poetics or ideology of a given time and place. Here, for instance, are the constraints Shakespeare had to deal with: Like any other royal subject he had to satisfy — or at least not displease — the sovereign and her court; the Queen, for good reason, was sensitive to any challenge to the legitimacy of the monarchy, and her word could put an end to Shakespeare’s career, if not his life. He had also to avoid the censure of the London authorities, whose Puritanism militated against any dramatic production as decadent, superstitious frivolity, and who sought excuses to close the theatres. As a new kind of ideological entrepreneur still working within traditional patronage relations of literary production, Shakespeare had to keep favour with his court patron — in this case the powerful Lord Chamberlain —14 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame who afforded the company political protection, and, literally, licence to work; at the same time, he had to hold the interest of a broad public drawn from London’s mercantile, artisanal and working classes. (Kavanagh 151) Literature, to go back to the description of the Russian Formalist theorists, is one of the systems that constitute the “complex “system of systems’” known as a culture. Alternatively, a culture, a society is the environment of a literary system. The literary system and the other systems belonging to the sacial system as such are open to each other: they influence each other. According to the Formalists, they interact in an “interplay among subsystems determined by the logic of the culture to which. they belong.” But who controls the “logic of the culture”? There appears to be a double control factor that sees to it that the literary system does not fall too far out of step with the other subsystems society consists of. One control factor belongs square- ly within the literary system; the other is to be found outside of that system. The first factor tries to control the literary system from the inside within the parameters set by the second factor. In concrete terms the first factor is represented by the “professional,” who is felt to “render a service” rather than provide an ordinary commodity, and it is a service that he alone, qua professional, can supply. The latter aspect of professionalism lends its practitioners their peculiar authority and status: they are regarded as possessing a monopoly of competence in their particular “field.” (Weber 25) Inside the literary system the professionals are the critics, reviewers, teachers, translators. They will occasionally repress certain works of literature that are all too blatantly opposed to the dominant concept of what literature should (be allowed to) be — its poetics — and of what society should (be allowed to) be — ideology. But they will much’ more frequently rewrite works of literature until they are deemed acceptable to the poetics and the ideology of a certain time and place much as Karl Gutzkow, for instance, rewrote Georg Biichner’s Dantons Tod “because such things as Biichner had flung down on paper, the kind of expressionsThe system: patronage 15 he allowed himself to use, cannot be printed today” (84). Furthermore, Gutzkow did so because he did not want to “give the censor the pleasure of striking passages” (84). Trespassing on the turf of a fellow professional, he therefore “performed the office” (84) himself. In other words, because he wanted Dantons Tod to be read and because Biichner himself opposed both the dominant poetics and the dominant ideology, Gutzkow adapted the text to the point where it became acceptable to that poetics and that ideology. The writer chose to oppose the constraints; the rewriter to adapt to them. The second control factor, which operates mostly outside the literary system as such, will be called “patronage” here, and it will be understood to mean something like the powers ( persons, institutions) that can further or hinder the reading, writing, and rewriting of literature. It is important to understand “power” here in the Foucaultian sense, not just, or even primarily, as a repressive force. Rather: what makes power hold good, what makes it accepted, is simply the fact that it doesn’t only weigh on us as a force that says no, but that it traverses and produces things, it induces pleasure, forms knowledge, produces discourse. (Foucault 119) Patronage is usually more interested in the ideology of literature than in its poetics, and it could be said that the patron “delegates authority” to the professional where poetics is concerned. Patronage can be exerted by persons, such as the Medici, Maecenas, or Louis XIV, and also by groups of persons, a religious body, a political party, a social class, a royal court, publishers, and, last but not least, the media, both newspapers and magazines and larger television corporations. Patrons try to regulate the relationship between the literary system and the other systems, which, together, make up a society, a culture. As a rule they operate by means of institutions set up to regulate, if not the writing of literature, at least its distribution: academies, censorship bureaus, eritical journals, and, by far the most important, the educational establishment. Professionals who represent the “reigning orthodoxy” at any given time in the development of a literary system are close to the ideology of patrons dominating that phase in the history of the social system in which the literary system is embedded. In fact, the patron(s) count on16 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame these professionals to bring the literary system in line with their own ideology: In thus smoothing out contradiction, closing the text, criti- cism becomes the accomplice of ideology. Having created a canon of acceptable texts, criticism then provides them with acceptable interpretations, thus effectively censoring away elements in them which come into collision with the dominant ideology. (Belsey 109) Patronage basically consists of three elements that can be seen to interact in various combinations. There is an_ ideological component, which acts as a constraint on the choice and development of both form and subject matter. Needless to say, “ideology” is taken here in a sense not limited to the political sphere; rather, “Ideology would seem to be that grillwork of form, convention, and belief which orders our actions” (Jameson 107). There is also an economic component: the patron sees to it that writers and rewriters are able to make a living, by giving them a pension or appointing them to some office. Chaucer, for instance, successively acted as “the King’s envoy, the controller of customs on wool, hides and sheepskins, [and] the subforester of North Petherton” (Bennett 1:5). Chaucer’s contemporary, John Gower, on the other hand, was his own patron, at least in this respect, being “an independent country gentleman, whose means allowed him to write in Latin, French and English” (Bennett 1:6). Yet he was not independent on the ideological level: he wrote his Confessio Amantis at the request of Richard [] , and he “wrote a final passage praising the King. Some years later, the poet found it expedient to omit this passage, and to insert a new preface, praising Henry IV” (Bennett 1:6). Patrons also pay royalties on the sale of books or they employ professionals as teachers and reviewers. Finally, there is also an element of status involved. Acceptance of patronage implies integration into a certain support group and its lifestyle, whether the recipient is Tasso at the court of Ferrara, the Beat poets gathering around the City Lights bookstore in San Francisco, Adolf Bartels proudly proclaiming that he has been decorated by Adolf Hitler, or the medieval Latin Archipoeta, who supplied the epigraph to this chapter, which reads, rewritten in English: “I shall write unheard of poems for you, if you give me wealth.”The system: patronage 17 Patronage can be differentiated or undifferentiated, or rather, literary systems can be controlled by a type of patronage that is either differentiated or undifferentiated in nature. Patronage is undifferentiated when its three components, the ideological, the economic, and the status components, are all dispensed by one and the same patron, as has been the case in most literary systems in the past in which an absolute ruler, for instance, would attach a writer to his or her court and give him or her a pension, and as is the case in contemporary totalitarian states where, though the court has gone — at least in the sense in which I have used the word here — subventions and pensions remain. Patronage is differentiated, on the other hand, when economic success is relatively independent of ideological factors, and does not necessarily bring status with it, at least not in the eyes of the self- styled literary elite. Most authors of contemporary bestsellers illustrate this point rather well. In systems with undifferentiated patronage, the patron’s efforts will primarily be directed at preserving the stability of the social system as a whole, and the literary production that is accepted and actively promoted within that social system will have to further that aim or, ‘at the very least, not actively oppose “the authoritative myths of a given cultural formation” (White x) which those in power want to control because their power is based on them. This is not to say that there will be no “other” literature produced within that social system, only that it will be called “dissident,” or any name to that effect, and once it has been written it will experience great difficulty in getting published through official channels, or else it will be relegated to the status of “low” or “popular” literature. As a result, a situation of de facto literary diglossia tends to arise, as has been the case in many literary systems with undiffer- entiated patronage, in which literature as such is unquestion- ingly equated with the production of a more or less small, more or less large coterie operating within the orbit of the patronage group that is in power. The Ottoman Empire, for instance, produced a coterie literature centered on the court of Istanbul and closely modeled on classical Arabic examples, whereas the literature produced in the country at large, modeled on Turkish traditions, was never taken seriously by the coterie group and always rejected as “popular” if referred to at all. This same “popular” literature was to become “elevated” to the position of18 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame national literature after the change of patronage produced by emal Atatirk’s revolution. In certain instances the pressure against being considered popular was so great that writers themselves preferred to restrict the circulation of their work to other members of the coterie only. Tudor English literature is a case in point. Writers dependent on the patronage of the court ran the risk of forfeiting that patron- age, atleast in part, if their work was seen to enjoy too much popularity with the masses in the streets. Hence the somewhat pradoxical situation, to our way of thinking at least, in which writers who had the printing press at their disposal for the dissemination of their work actually refused to have their books printed, and certainly not in large editions, preferring to circulate them in manuscript among other members of the coterie, known as persons of taste and discernment, rather than to abandon them to the vulgar crowd. The latter tended to find its reading matter in the continuations of medieval romances and other bestsellers, the kind of literature that has hardly survived in the literary histories of our time, which often only take the production of the coterie into account. The refusal to publish then subsisted for a considerable period of time after the Tudors: Hence it was that practically nothing of Donne’s verse was printed before 1633, two years after his death, although twenty-five manuscripts containing poems by him, and which circulated during his lifetime, survive” (Bennett 3:193). Acceptance of patronage implies that writers and rewriters work within the parameters set by their patrons and that they would be willing and able to legitimize both the status and the power of those patrons as attested most forcibly, for instance, by the African praise song, a collection of honorific epithets commemorating and celebrating the patron’s great and noble deeds, by the panegyric in the Islamic system, which served mainly same purpose, or by the many odes written to Comrade J. Statin, or maybe, somewhat less forcibly so, by Pindar’s great odes. An even subtler form of the same phenomenon can be observed in pre-eighteenth-century India, where “many poets even went so far as to allow their patron to claim the authorship of their work, or at least to help him in his literary endeavors, which would explain why one encounters a disproportionate number of royal writers in Indian literature” (Glasenapp 192). Present-day developments in the literary system as it exists inThe system: patronage 19 Europe and the Americas show that undifferentiated patronage need not be based mainly on ideology as it was in most literary systems in the past. The economic component, the profit motive, may well lead to the re-establishment of a system with a relatively undifferentiated patronage, as attested by: The growth of large chains of retail bookstores, the strong rivalry of paperback publishers for rack space in retail outiets, the computerization of inventory and warehouse systems, the arrival on the scene of a new breed of literary agent, the influence of television talk shows that regularly feature authors as guests, the control by entertainment conglomerates of hard cover and paperback publishing companies and the like, and the increasingly active involvement of Hollywood in the business of book publishing . (Whiteside 66) Institutions enforce or, at least, try to enforce the dominant poetics of a period by using it as the yardstick against which current production is measured. Accordingly, certain works of literature will be elevated to the level of “classics” within a relatively short time after publication, while others are rejected, some to reach the exalted position of a classic later, when the dominant poetics has changed. Significantly, though, works of literature canonized more than five centuries ago tend to remain secure in their position, no matter how often the dominant poetics itself is subject to change. This is a clear indication of the conservative bias of the system itself and also of the power of rewriting, since while the work of literature itself remains canonized, the “received” interpretation, or even the “right” interpretation in systems with undifferentiated patronage, quite simply changes. In other words the work is rewritten to bring it in line with the “new” dominant poetics. A large-scale example of this process is provided by the reconstitution of the canons of various national literatures after the socialist revolutions in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union. A comparison of authors who have been canonized in the Federal Republic of Germany and the German Democratic Republic since the end of the Second World War is likely to yield two rather different lists. Yet the further back one goes in time, the more the lists overlap. The works of literature canonized will be the same, but the20 Translation, Rewriting, and the Manipulation of Literary Fame rewritings by means of which they are presented to the: audience differ, sometimes radically. It is quite common for the classics to be presented as suited to different ideologies and poetics as these succeed each other, indeed to be pressed into the service thereof. Works of literature written long enough ago can therefore “boast” a whole concatenation of contradictory rewritings. The conservative tendency of the literary system, any literary system, becomes even more of an issue in the countries mentioned above when the problem of deciding which new works can safely be admitted to the canon has to be addressed. Since the dominant poetics unabashedly subscribes to “realism” and is therefore all but squarely rooted in the nineteenth century, and since this poetics intended to be used as a yardstick for measuring literature produced in the twentieth century, tension and conflict are all but inevitable. If a certain type of institution, such as academies or influential literary journals and recognized publishers of highbrow literature, which have increasingly taken over the part played by academies in the past, play an important part in admitting new works to the canon, other institutions, such as universities and the educational establishment in general, keep the canon more or less alive, mainly by means of the selection of texts for literature courses. To put it in a nutshell, the classics taught will be the classics that remain in print, and therefore the classics that remain in print will be the classics known to the majority of people exposed to education in most contemporary societies. The selection process also operates within the entire oeuvre of a certain author commonly regarded as a classic. Certain books by certain authors that are the staple of courses in institutions of higher) education will be widely available, whereas other works written by the same author will be very hard to find except in painstakingly collected editions on library shelves. In the English- speaking world, for instance, Thomas Mann’s Doctor Faustus and The Magic Mountain are widely available at the time of writing, Buddenbrooks somewhat less so, and Joseph and His Brothers hardly at all, even though the latter work was translated — rewritten — into English and published soon after it came out in German, as were all of Mann’s other books. It would only be a small exaggeration to say that in the present state of the educational system in both the United Kingdom and the United States the reading lists designed for examinations for Master of Arts and Doctor of Philosophy reflect rather accurately the canonART AT 4th ASAERISe OLGA Poe FRE FL PUR Hist RAG FL ACHR AR MERU POG CHIR. 5 AI A SRIRAM. SE REE GHINL, ASC. BE OE, ale, RIT SPEAR, MLALAPULMRSEARENL ENC. DL. SURAOSERT YEA IBM, OT GR. RO QE aboaness , HILL COLE. PE SCP ARENAS SEZ OCIS Sia, RC Je PURSE. EDAEOER ITER. HOU EIRENE, 7 fe, 2, RA REITRULAL