While there's some talk of translations...
I've been re-reading a collection of Isaac Babel's short stories, various collections since I lent my first copy of 'collected stories" (translated by Walter Morrison) to someone. With luck I managed to get it back, but only after ordering two similar collections by different translators.
I first replaced it with a translation by Peter Constantine. Then David McDuff. I got rid of the Constantine so I can't demonstrate. It wasn't as good as Morrison. By that I mean it didn't read as good. Here is a paragraph from the story "Guy de Maupassant", Walter Morrison's translation.
"I left the granite house on the Moyka between eleven and twelve, before the sisters and the husband returned from the theatre. I was sober and could have walked a chalk line, but it was pleasanter to stagger, so I swayed from side to side singing in a language I had just invented. Through the tunnels of the streets bounded by lines of street lights the steamy fog billowed. Monsters roared behind the boiling walls. The roads amputated the legs of those walking on them"
Here's McDuff.
"I left the granite house on the Moyka before midnight, when the sisters and husband would return from the theatre. I was sober and could have walked a single board, but it was much better to stagger, and I swayed from side to side, singing loudly in a language I had only just invented. Down the tunnels of the streets, lined by a chain of street lamps, in waves, passed the vapours of the fog. Monsters roared behind seething walls. The wooden pavements cut off the legs of those who walked upon them.
I prefer Morrison. Especially amputated! I'm not so sure about steamy fog (but it's better than vapours), or one or two of those commas, but it beats the other two.
