We all know the feeling– your boss, teacher, parent, or that one person in your group project group who ceaselessly micromanages, seemingly challenges any choice you make, and forbids autonomy. At some point, you know anything you suggest will get shot down, and the effort isn't worth it anymore. This sort of environment kills creativity.
In the articles we read today, it was interesting to hear that the original author tends to give the translator more room to maneuver while still being open to correspondence. It is rare to find a Nabokov who cuts out 60 or 70 words. Neither approach seems necessarily wrong; it depends on the intention of the translation and the author's preference (if they are available to comment).
Even as I take my own poetic journey into account, I consider (if anyone were to translate my work) what I would want that correspondence to be like? And what is the purpose of my art? Personally, I find some of the accounts of translating a work without the biographic knowledge of an author and translating purely on the grounds of what is written and finding the author in their work is quite beautiful and transcendent in a way. Art is not stagnant; it has always meant different things to different people and shifted over time, so why would I want my own art to be treated as something immovable?
That said, I think the original author's stance on how they want the translation to go should be honored, even if it involves a Nabokov level of involvement. If you don't agree with the author's vision, it might be time to find someone else to translate.
Lauren
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