Lost/Found in Translation: Qurratulain Hyder As Self-Translator
Lost/Found in Translation: Qurratulain Hyder As Self-Translator
Lost/Found in Translation: Qurratulain Hyder As Self-Translator
asaduddin
Lost/Found in Translation:
Qurratulain Hyder as Self-Translator
The Book of Laughter and Forgetting was written in Czech between 1976
and 1978. Between 1985 and 1987, I revised the French translations of all my
novels (and stories) so deeply and completely that I was able to include, in
the subsequent new editions, a note affirming that the French versions of
these works ìare equal in authenticity to the Czech texts.î My intervention
in these French versions did not result in variants of my original texts. I was
led to it only by a wish for accuracy. The French translations have become,
so to speak, more faithful to the Czech originals than the originals them-
selves.
Milan Kundera, ìAuthorís Noteî (1996)
1
Kunderaís serious reflections on translation can also be seen in his incisive
comments on the translation of Kafkaís works into English, where the translators,
according to him, have falsified the original in their efforts to render his works in
idiomatic English by eliminating repetition and the apparent roughness and
sloppiness of style in the original. See his Testaments Betrayed: An Essay in Nine
Parts. Translated from the French by Linda Asher. New York: HarperCollins, 1995.
100–115.
234
M. Asaduddin • 235
His assertions and his practice of reviewing and revising blur the distinc-
tion between the conventional notions of the original and the translation.
In his authorís note, he introduces two other terms, viz., ìauthenticityî
and ìaccuracy,î that fly in the face of his practice as a self-translator, even
though he seems to swear by them. A certain kind of intentionality
overrides the values of accuracy and authenticity that he endeavors to
harness to his job in order to justify the alterations made in the French,
and subsequently, in other versions.
Translation does constitute the ìafterlife,î as the familiar trope goes,
of a text in more senses than Walter Benjamin would have us believe
(1969, 73). It allows writers to cross boundaries of language and culture
and enjoy readerships larger and vastly different than texts in the original
would have assumed, and thus assures the survival and dissemination of
the text across time and space. Indeed, the two tests of greatness for a
writer and his works are timelessness and translation. This being so, it is
natural that every writer would like to be represented in other languages
through translation, but as they may not read the languages in which they
are translated, they are not always in a position to judge the quality of the
work and how well they have been represented. We often read translated
literature in an unself-conscious way, assuming that the translated version
is a true representation of the original, and often implicitly trusting in the
authority of the translator. History is replete with examples of how a
writerís reputation has been made or marred because of the quality of
translation.
A writer like Kundera can inhabit two or three languages/cultures at
the same time. But how about the many other languages and cultures into
which his books are being translated? Can he possibly monitor how
ìaccurateî and ìauthenticî these translations are? Certainly not. Under the
circumstances, writers have to depend on translators for a wider dis-
semination of their works. And this relationship between writers and
translators may not always be cordial. Indeed, it is often marked by
tension and sometimes even hostility, unless the translator is of the status
of say, Constance Garnett, who translated a massive volume of Russian
literature into English in the first half of the twentieth century creating
perhaps the first great wave of fiction rendition in the history of transla-
tion in world literature; or of Gregory Rabassa or Edith Grosson, who
translated equally prolifically from Latin American languages into English
in the second half of the twentieth century creating the second wave of
fiction translation into English; or of William Weaver who contributed
enormously to the body of Italian literature accessible to English reading
audiences worldwide, earning the highest tribute from no less a writer
236 • The Annual of Urdu Studies
of himself in the West. The desire to fulfill the expectations of his Western
readers and be understood in their own terms led him to mangle, mutilate
and cannibalize his works in all sorts of ways while rendering them in
English. Very few of his translations represent their Bengali original
closely. More often than not, they are rearrangements, reworkings or
rewritings. He was clear about the fact that a close translation of Bengali
poetry into English would not work. ìI intend to carry the essential
substance of my poetry in the English translation, and this means a wide
divergence from the original,î wrote Tagore in a letter to Ajitkumar
Chakravarty, the celebrated Bengali poet (qtd. in Mukherjee 2004, 119).
The divergences often assumed such proportions that the poems became
almost unrecognizable. They were neither Bengali poems rendered in
English translation nor successful independent English poems. Further-
more, he selected only certain kinds of poems that would facilitate his
image as an Eastern sage and seer in the West, an image that was
seriously flawed as far as his total literary output was concerned. This
image took a beating fairly quickly, resulting in a lack of interest in his
work. He had realized his folly after the damage was done and his repu-
tation suffered an eclipse in the West. In a letter to Edward Thompson
written in 1935 Tagore wrote:
While going through them [translations] as appearing in different books, I
was startled with the slipshod character of most of their number and
strongly felt the desire for a ruthless excision. I have done gross injustice to
my original productions partly owing to my incompetence, partly to
carelessness.
(ibid., 120)
in addition to her own work, she has translated $asan Sh%hís Nashtar into
English claiming that it was the first Indian novel. Her claim, as well as her
translation, created a considerable stir in Urdu literary circles at the time.2
A look at her translation of Nashtar will give us some clue to her trans-
lation practice. She adds a foreword and an afterword, the common
translatorial devices for creating a context for the translated work. In the
foreword she writes:
Nashtar was translated by Sajjad Hussain Kasmandavi into Urdu and
serialised in the famous journal Oudh Punch. In 1893, it was published
from Lucknow as a slim volume of 155 pages. The Persian book is extinct. I
have translated Kasmandaviís edition. It is obvious that he has remained
extremely faithful to the original and retains many passages and all Persian
ghazals in his text. From time to time he makes his humorous comments
on the authorís views and actions.
(1992, 5)3
2
For a detailed account of this debate, see Hyder (1994), &idd'q' (1995), and
Sarmast (1993).
3
The title of the American edition is Dancing Girl. The Persian original by
$asan Sh%h is known as Qi**a-e Ra%g!n or Afs#na-e Ra%g!n. Nashtar is the title of
its Urdu translation/adaptation by Kasmandav' (ca. 1894).
M. Asaduddin • 239
knew the meaning that she, as the author, intended. 4 She understood that
the job of a translator was difficult and demanding. In an interview with
Taqi Ali Mirza, she says:
Translation requires both skill and creativity. The translator has a disci-
plined and responsible role. She has to be faithful to the text and at the
same time interpret the original in a way to render the translation as read-
able as the original.
(1998, 217)
However, it seems from her practice that all these rules were for others to
follow, or were for those who were ìmereî translators. A creative writer
makes her own rules. Her translations from Henry James and T. S. Eliot
take considerable liberty with the original. However, when she translates
her own work, it is not simply a question of taking liberty here and there.
Rather, it involves entirely refashioning the work according to a new
aesthetic. Here, she considers herself totally free. There is no obligation to
remain ìfaithful to the textî because it is her own and not somebody
elseís. In the same interview she asserts:
A translator has to be faithful to the text, and she doesnít have the freedom
to make changes as it is somebody elseís text. I being the writer, can do so.
I do not merely translate, I donít even say that I transcreate. I rewrite, and I
rewrite with the English-knowing public in mind.
(ibid., 216, emphasis added)
She rarely granted permission for anyone to translate her work into
English. 5 Perhaps the solitary example in this regard is C. M. Naim who
translated her novella S!t#haran and one short story (see Season of Be-
trayal, 1999). And I have it from very reliable sources that even a scholar-
translator of Naimís stature had a tough time getting that approval.
Before discussing (g k# +D ary# (River of Fire) it would be instructive
4
In my personal conversations with her, whenever the issue of translation
came up she always asserted forcefully that no one else could translate her work
as well as she herself could.
5
When the Indian National Book Trust took up the project of translating (g
k# Dary# into fourteen Indian languages, she was apprehensive about the quality
of the translations. She tells Taqi Ali Mirza: ìYou see I have suffered a great deal
on this account. They sought my permission to get my so-called great novel, Aag
ka Darya, translated into fourteen Indian languages and I was told by readers of
those languages that all these translations were terrible. My language is not easy to
render into Hindi, and one sentence, one word can make all the difference. The
meaning is lost, the atmosphere is lostî (ibid.).
240 • The Annual of Urdu Studies
ists during the freedom movement of India have been deleted from the
English text. Finally, the English version has been divided into three parts,
whereas the original does not have this division of the content.
Apart from these kinds of structural changes, Hyderís general practice
of self-translation has two major componentsórewriting and recontextu-
alization. To some extent, one follows from the other. Rewriting involves
both compression and amplification and the introduction of a certain
terseness and concreteness in the English version. A close analysis of
Chapter 23, ìGanga and Brahmaputra,î reading the translation alongside
the original, demonstrates this.
Urdu original:
[Ö] ìA,,&#, kah!% s$ m#,his l$ kar #-..î
Kis maz$ s$ /ukm ,al#t$ hai%, mai% kan!z h0% un k!, zarkhar!d,
,arn.% k! d#s!. Kitn$ h! k#mr$1 ban j#-+$% a*liyat m$% rah$%g$ voh! na-
kh#li* Hindust#n! l#r1 ain1 m#sÅar. Mai% nah!% l#t! m#,is-v#,is.
ìAr$ b&#-! 2ar# b&#g kar $k l$ #-. na kah!% s$ó3Abduíl-Q#dir miy#%
s$ m#%g l.. V.h 4ar0r b!'! p!t$ h.%g$.î
ìMai% un s$ j# kar kah0% 2ar# diy#sal#-! d$n# j. m$r$ $k 3az!z d.st
k. ,#hiy$ j. muj&$ b&ag# l$ j#n$ k# pr.gar#m ban# rah$ hai%.î
ìJab tum (3anqar!b insh#--all#h) b&ag.g! t. Binay B#b0 l#-mu/#l#
yeh! shubah kar$%g$ ke un k$ 2ar!3$ h! tum $k miy#% b&#-! k$ s#t&
u'an,&0 h0-!%.î
ìIs khay#l m$% b&! na rahiy$g#. 3Abduíl-Q#dir miy#% m$% intih#-!
fiy01al vaf#d#r! hai. V.h #p k$ Maulav! Abuíl-H#shim nah!% hai%.î
Daf3atan v.h ,up h. ga-!.
ìV.hóv.h ham n$ $k suh#n#ón#-q#bil$ yaq!n khv#b d$k&# t&# n#
Öî
ìH#% Ö î la'k! n$ #hista s$ kah#.
(1979, 183!84)
English version:
Urdu original:
B0'&$ n#khud# n$ k#n k&a'$ kiy$ aur nazd!k h. kar dil,asp! s$ b#t
sunn$ lag#. Aur $k dafa3 mu' kar naujav#n k. d$k&#. Naujav#n n$
242 • The Annual of Urdu Studies
muskur# kar us$ ìAs-sal#mu3alaikumî kah# aur b#t j#r! rak&!. ìBa%g#l
Muslim ak*ar!yat k# *0ba hai. Yah#% k! Muslim janat# pr.gr$siv l!1arship
k! munta5ir hai.î
ìNav#b l.g t. pr.gr$siv l!1arship nah!% hai%.î
ìPr.gr$siv l!1arship ham#r! h.g!. Ham$% l!g k$ qar!b #n# h.g#.î [Ö]
(1979, 184)
English version:
The bearded skipper pricked his ears and moved a bit closer to hear
the conversation.
ìIsnít he the ancient spirit of the river?î she whispered.
ìDonít romanticise everything. He may be the Ancient Mariner and all
that. What interests me right now is that he may be a staunch follower of
the Muslim League, hoping that soon these Indian rivers would turn into
Pakistani rivers. Geography is changed by human beings.î
The shipmaster turned round and was greeted by an enthusiastic
Assalam Aleikum by the young man. He was now telling his companion,
ìBengal is a Muslim majority province and the Muslim masses are waiting
for progressive leadership.î
ìThe nawabs of Bengal are Muslim League leaders. And they are so
reactionary,î she hotly replied. With his keen river-eye the captain noticed
that the heathen woman was very much in love with this upright follower
of the Lord Prophet. But it distressed the Ole Man of the River when the
fellow declared, ìWe, the communists, shall have to come close to the
Muslim League. We shall provide progressive leadership to our masses.î
[Ö]
(1994a, 170)
A military flotilla passed by. She walked down along the first-class cabins
and spotted a figure in white. Lone White girl in a flowing milky-white
nightgown. Dejected and pensive. Flaxen hair streaming in the wind.
Diana of the Uplands. Perhaps the daughter of a top executive of the
Scottish steamship company. Perhaps boyfriend Duncan was also aboard
M. Asaduddin • 243
6
Aijaz Ahmad holds a contrary view in that he regards (g k# Dary# as
displaying elements of pastiche from other works, ìthe borrowings from a number
of Orientalist texts, such as Bashamís The Wonder that Was India and Herman
244 • The Annual of Urdu Studies
7
As for the characters, Champaís maid in the Shravasti period has been
changed from Sarojini to Jamuna, Shahzadi Banu Begam of Jaunpur has been
changed to Ruqaiyya, Cyrilís native wife Shunila Devi has become Sujata, Profes-
sor Sabzjeevan has become Professor Banerjee, and so on. As for narrative modes,
there are several major shifts from the Urdu original to the English.
246 • The Annual of Urdu Studies
8
At an international seminar held at Jamia Millia Islamia (Delhi) on
ìQurratulain Hyder and the River of Fire: The Meaning, Scope and Significance of
Her Legacyî (Feb. 5!6, 2008), Ritu Menon, Hyderís publisher from Kali for Women
/Women Unlimited, narrated her experience working with Qurratulain Hyder to
arrive at the final version of River of Fire: ìAini Aapa would have several versions
in English for the same chapter in Urdu. She would pull them out of a big box and
say tantalizingly, ëShall we take this one, this one, or this one!íî This is certainly an
unusual practice in translation history. It also indicates that Hyder, unlike Beckett,
who considered self-translation a dismal drudgery, really liked the job of translat-
ing her own work, perhaps as a way to test newer facets of her writing genius.
M. Asaduddin • 247
prose, etc. All of these just do not work in English. English has to be
sparse and bare, unadorned, understated, sinewy and tactile, shorn of any
kind of airy-fairy prose. If there is wit, it has to be subtle; if there is humor,
it must be tongue-in-cheek and self-deprecating. Thus, the seemingly
rotund and baroque narrative fictions in our languages should be suitably
laundered and pressed, with all of the wrinkles evened out in English so
that the folds fall neatly into place. One wonders if Qurratulain Hyder
shared such a view. All the same, there is no neat pattern in her deletions
and insertions. In River of Fire these have achieved a certain crispness and
compression stylistically, but have also resulted in an attenuation of the
local flavor and a loss of the cultural nuances.
nal or master text. Like the French translations of Kunderaís works, the
English translation of (g k# Dary# has assumed the status of the original.
In the not too distant future we may have an Urdu version of the novel
produced from River of Fire. Then the wheel will have come full circle
and we will be engaged in an eternal chase tracking down the ìreal origi-
nal.î Shall we then determine the original text according to anteriority and
posteriority, or the larger or smaller version, or shall we take both of them
together as a composite text? Or, having failed to resolve the issue conclu-
sively either way, shall we pronounce, with a Derridean flourish, that it
does not really matter because the original is always already fissured?
Perhaps the way out is to consider a new genre consisting of self-transla-
tion. What Elizabeth Klosty Beaujour says about self-translation in general
is valid for Qurratulain Hyderís texts as well: ìBecause self-translation
makes a text retrospectively incomplete, both versions become avatars of
a hypothetical total text in which the versions of both languages would
rejoin each other and be reconciledî (qtd. in Anderson 2000, 1251). The
two texts cannot be substituted for one another. They remain compli-
mentary despite belonging to their own fictive universes.
It would be na(ve to suggest that the issues raised by Hyderís practice
of self-translation make her a lesser writer, or that the issues can be
resolved easily, or that they are resolvable at all, but a keen reader of
Hyder must be aware of all these nuances of her practice as an author and
translator that challenge traditional notions of originality, the singularity of
texts, and authorship. We are now at a stage in translation studies where
the terms of debate should really shift from questions of linguistic
equivalence, the loyalty-betrayal paradigm, etc., to these larger issues. !
Works Cited
Ahmad, Aijaz. 1993. In the Mirror of Urdu. Shimla: Indian Institute of Advanced
Study.
Anderson, Kristine J. 2000. ìSelf-translators.î In Encyclopaedia of Literary Trans-
lation into English, vol. 2. Edited by Olive Classe. Chicago: Fitzory
Dearborn.
Benjamin, Walter. 1969. ìThe Task of the Translator.î In Illuminations. Edited by
H. Arendt. Trans. by Harry Zohn. New York: Shocken.
Connor, Steven. 2006. Samuel Beckett: Repetition, Theory and Text. Revised
edition. Colorado: Davis Group Publishers.
Hyder, Qurratulain. 1979. (khir-e Shab k$ Hamsafar. Bombay: Alav' Book Depot.
óóó. 1990. Novel and Short Story: Modern Narratives. Paper presented at the
International Seminar on ìNarrativeî organized by the Sahitya Akademi,
M. Asaduddin • 249