Like Google crossing the great firewall of China, the Chinese language translation of Joyce's Ulysses is a bit of a Trojan horse. And like wily Odysseus' strategem, there are uncertainties on both sides of the wall. On our side: will it be left alone and forgotten outside the city walls?, will it be defamed or destroyed?, will it work? Or on the other side: should we even bother with such a monstrosity?, is it just an elaborate trick?. And now the ruse of the Trojan horse is even more important. As China grows at an alarming rate, each side must be able to understand the other to grow in a happy medium. The entertainment industry has surely introduced the east to our western ways, and the eastern entertainment industry has slowly begun to influence our side in the recent decade, but literature is different. While it is a large medium, it is not stressed in the dialogue between east and west. The Journey to the West (西遊記), ironically enough, is not widely read in the west. And equally, Ulysses (itself a sort of an eastern journey) is not widely read in the east. Ulysses is representative of our western media: it contains everything we've come from and describes our artistic trajectory. An ambitious Chinese translation of Ulysses, then, should be a good omen.
Xiao Qian and Wen Jieruo--the Chinese translators of Ulysses--are of the opinion that it is more of an elaborate trick than necessary. Not the greatest attitude for anyone translating the most ironic and human work of the west (or the world?). And the attitude shows in the work. The Chinese edition is full of annotations-- a great many more than that included for the English speaking world in Gifford's book--as well as questionable translations and what I feel is awkward and uninspired prose.
Even without looking at the translation, a few episodes necessarily defy the best attempts of any translator. Like the musical allusions, combinations, and recombinations of Sirens, the very English Oxen of the Sun, and the lingually disguised Eumeus: these three episodes are the pinacle of difficult translation into any language, much less the 180deg difference between English and Chinese--difficult, but not insurmountable.
For a simple example of Mr. Xiao's work, take a glance at the opening passage of Ulysses:
"Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him by the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:
-- Introibo ad altare Dei.
Halted, he peered down the dark winding stairs and called up coarsely:
-- Come up, Kinch! Come up, you fearful jesuit!" (U1)
And it's Chinese:
"體態豐滿而有風度的勃克·穆利根[1]從樓梯口出現。他手裡托著一缽肥皂沫，上面交叉放了一面鏡子和一把剃胡刀。他沒系腰帶，淡黃色浴衣被習習晨風吹得稍微向后蓬著[2]。他把那隻缽高高舉起，吟誦道：
我要走向上主的祭台。
他停下腳步，朝那昏暗的螺旋狀樓梯下邊瞥了一眼，粗聲粗氣地嚷道：
“上來，金赤[3]。上來，你這敬畏天主的耶酥會士[4]。"
My translation of the Chinese version:
[Full-bodied and with countenance Buck Mulligan appeared at the stairhead. In his hands he held a bowl of lather, on top a mirror and a razor lay crossed. His unbelted light yellow bathrobe was sustained slightly behind him by the morning wind. He lifted the bowl high and recited:
I will go to the altar of God.
He stopped, glanced down the dusky spiral staircase and coarsely called:
"Come up, Kinch. Come up, you godfearing jesuit"]
Not a bad translation, but it reveals some problems. For "... plump..." Xiao gives "體態豐滿..." , which is closer to 'buxom' in the way it would be used to describe full bodied women (Not certain, if anyone can confirm please comment).
Second, the latin phrase "Introibo ad altare Dei." is meant to evoke the feeling of the church, the ritual of the mass, and Bloom's words: " Good idea the Latin. Stupefies them first." But Xiao's phrase cannot stupefy us; Xiao merely gives the literal translation of the latin phrase and mentions in the footnotes the fact that it was originally a latin phrase used in the catholic mass. Equally, I suppose I could give you a fake plastic apple with a note that in it's real form it's actually very tasty. Xiao should have left the latin from the original and made a footnote for its meaning, both ways use the same amount of space. Many Chinese may not be able to read the foreign phrase, but that's the point! Like Bloom said it's there to stupefy. Even a majority of Americans would have trouble with the phrase and even less would know the meaning, so what the hell is wrong with leaving it as is?
Another mistake concerns a single word that Joyce stressed in a conversation with his friend Frank Budgen:
"I stopped at the door as I was about to leave. 'You know, Joyce,' I said, 'when Stephen sees that three-masted schooner's sails brailed up to her crosstrees.'
'Yes,' he said. 'What about it?'
'Only this. I sailed on schooners of that sort once and the only word we ever used for the spars to which the sails are bent was 'yards'. 'Crosstrees' were the lighter spars fixed near the lower masthead. Their function was to give purchase to the topmost standing rigging.'
Joyce thought for a moment. 'Thank you for pointing it out,' he said. 'There's no sort of criticism I value more than that. But the word 'crosstrees' is essential. It comes in later on and I can't change it. After all, a yard is also a crosstree for the onlooking landlubber.'" (Frank Budgen, James Joyce and the Making of Ulysses pg56)
'Crosstrees' is used once in episode three, and once again in episode nine. Xiao's version uses two different terms: '桅顶横桁' in episode 3 and '十字架' in episode nine. Joyce had good reason for using that exact phrase twice, a good translator would acknowledge that.
Oxen is easily the most difficult to translate. It's technique recapitulates the history of the English language, the history of English Literature, and western history. How would this be possible using Chinese? Each style within the episode is representative of a writer during a period in western literature, unexpressable in Chinese. And the words themselves represent a linear change that can be linked backward or forward through the episode. The only way around would be to use various authors from Chinese literary history to convey the intended artistic feeling and the correspondance developed between the prose and the characters it represents. This flaw is especially present in the free for all babel of the final paragraphs. Most of this is grossly translated into less confusing Chinese and the rest is left on the floor of the editing room.
Here is a snippet from the final few paragraphs of Oxen, first the original:
"Closingtime, gents. Eh? Rome boose for the Bloom toff. I hear you say onions? Bloo? Cadges ads? Photo's papli, by all that's gorgeous! Play low, pardner. Slide. Bonsoir la compagnie. And snares of the poxfiend. Where's the buck and Namby Amby? Skunked? Leg bail. Aweel, ye maun e'en gang yer gates. Checkmate. King to tower. Kind Kristyann will yu help, yung man hoose frend tuk bungalo kee to find plais whear to lay crown off his hed 2 night. Crickey, I'm about sprung. Tarnally dog gone my shins if this beent the bestest putties longbreakyet. Item, curate, couple of cookies for this child. Cot's plood and prandypalls, none! Not a pite of sheeses? Thrust syphilis down to hell and with him those other licensed spirits. Time. Who wander through the world. Health all. A la votre!"
And the Chinese:
"打烊了，先生們，呃？給那神氣活現的布盧姆來杯朗姆酒， 我聽你說過蔥頭[376] ？布盧？那個兜攬廣告的？那個照相姑娘的爹[377]，這可讓我吃了一驚。小聲點兒，伙計。悄悄地溜掉吧。各位，晚安[378]衛我於梅毒魔鬼。[379]那個花花公子和女模女樣[380]的家伙哪兒去啦？上當了吧？逃走了。啊，好的，你們愛到哪兒就到哪兒去吧。將軍。王移到象的位置。善良的基督徒，請你幫助這個被朋友奪走住處鑰匙的小伙子[381]找個今晚睡覺的地方。唷，我快要酩酊大醉啦。媽的，我敢說這是最好的、最開心的假日。喂。伙計，給這孩子幾塊點心。扯蛋，我才不吃那白蘭地夾心糖呢！那是哄女人孩子的，我才不吃呢！把海毒丟到地獄裡去吧。連同那領了執照的烈性酒。[382]時間到了，先生們！祝大家健康！祝你！[383]"
My translation of the Chinese version:
[It's closing time, Gentlemen. Eh? Give that mannequin Bloom a cup of Rome liquor. I heard you say onion? Bloo? That canvasser of ads? That photo girl's pa, shocking! Quiet, buddy. Quietly slide. Patrons, night guard me from pox devils. Where did that playboy and feminine model guy go? Duped? Escaped. Ah, Ok. Wherever you want to go, go. General. King to elephant position. Good and honest disciple of Christ, please help me a lad who's key has been stolen by friends find a place to sleep this night. Woah, I'm about dead drunk. Fuck, I dare say this is the best, the happiest of holidays. Hey. Buddy, give this grandson some candy. Chedan, I will not eat that brandy bonbon! That's for lulling women and children, I however will not eat it! Take that poison and throw it down to hell. Even the licensed liquors. The time has come, gentlemen! To all your health! To you!]
As you can see, the general disorder of the language has been dampened by the translation and is no longer effective as babel. Also, a good chunk of the original is taken out, likely because Xiao didn't know what the hell Joyce was saying.
As an Idea, this translation makes me optimistic: I think a good translation of Ulysses into Chinese is very possible and potentially successful. As an actuality, it makes me cringe. Like a paint-by-numbers Van Gogh, it's too hokey, too 'fill-in-the-blank'. Don't let this paint me in the wrong colors, translation is possible. Why would it not be? And if it were impossible, by what standards would we judge it so?
A translation is as good as it's acceptance from both sides. Again reusing the Trojan Horse theme: the Greeks accepted the horse as a plan, the Trojans accepted it as a gift. Both sides were willing, and if both had been benevolent the horse would have been a playful ruse--no more than an April fools joke--and the result would have been peace.
One last thought: Joyce spent eight years of his life writing this one book, and that anyone wanting to understand it needs to spend at least that much time reading it. Xiao's translation took less than five.
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