Madame Bovary and Self-Experimentation

Someone asked Lydia Davis: Why another translation of Madame Bovary? She replied:

In the case of a book that appeared more than 150 years ago, like Madame Bovary, and that is an important landmark in the history of the novel, there is room for plenty of different English versions. For example, 1) the first editions of the original text may have been faulty, and over the years one or more corrected editions have been published, so that the earliest English translations no longer match the most accurate original; 2) the earliest translators (as was the case with the Muirs rendering Kafka) may have felt they needed to inflict subtle or not so subtle alterations on the style and even the content of the original so as to make it more acceptable to the Anglophone audience; with the passing of time, we come to deem this something of a betrayal and ask for a more faithful version. 3) Earlier versions may simply not be as good in other respects as they could be—let another translator have a try.

This reminds me of my three-part answer to the question a journalist asked me: why it mattered that butter improved my arithmetic speed by 5%.

Just as I disliked my answer, I disliked Davis’s answer. It’s hypothetical (“may have been faulty”, “may have felt”, “may not be as good as they could be”). It’s flat and obvious (earlier versions may have room for improvement). It’s irrelevant (bad translation of Kafka does not justify new translation of Flaubert).

I had trouble figuring out a better answer to what I was asked, but I could instantly say what Davis should have written: The story of how she decided to do a new translation. (“I began to think about doing a new translation when . . . “) That would have been a lot more emotion-laden and not hypothetical, obvious, or irrelevant.

As soon as I thought what Davis should have said, I could see what I should have said. I should have answered the journalist’s question like this: Why does 5% matter? Let me tell you why I was so excited by this. . . .Â

Via Marginal Revolution.

4 thoughts on “Madame Bovary and Self-Experimentation

  1. Seth,
    You have discovered the power of narrative. Ms. Davis answered like a (typical) lawyer, listing reasons and couching her answer with qualifications. You’re suggesting that she (and you) should have answered like a smart trial lawyer, with narrative to bring the issues to life.

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