When They Took off the Armour

Recently, I was reading “Of Sadness,” an essay by Montaigne. I was reading George B. Ives’ English translation of the piece in The Essays of Michel de Montaigne, which was printed by the Heritage Press in 1946. Harvard University Press first published the Ives translation in 1925.

From time to time, I get so upset with a translation that I feel I must swear off reading literature not written originally in English. My reading of Ives’ translation of “Of sadness” was one of those occasions. Of course, I never swear off reading translations, at least not permanently. How can I? Some people can become fluent in Arabic, Bengali, Czech, Danish, French, German, Greek, Hebrew, Hindi, Italian, Japanese, Latin, Polish, Portuguese, Russian, Spanish, and Yiddish; I’m not one of them. Books in all these languages sit in my physical or digital libraries in English translation, often in multiple ones. I suppose it’s not unexpected that I should occasionally become annoyed with a translation.

Let me share a paragraph from Ives’s translation of “Of Sadness” to illustrate the problem. The irritant can be found in Volume I, page 10 of The Essays.

In the war that King Ferdinand waged against the widow of King John of Hungary, near Buda, Raïsciac, a trooper whom every one had noticed as having borne himself with exceeding gallantry, joined in the universal commiseration; but, sharing the general interest in seeing who he might be, after his armour was removed, he found that he was his own son. Amid the universal lamentation, he alone stood erect, without uttering a word or shedding a tear, his eyes fixed, gazing steadfastly upon him, until the violence of his grief congealed his vital powers, and felled him, stone dead, to the ground.

I’m sorry you had to read that. I got annoyed just writing it. Now, if you read French, or, more precisely, French as it was written and understood in 16th-century France, perhaps the relevant excerpt from the original essay will prove helpful. Here you go.

En la guerre que le Roy Ferdinand mena contre la veufve du Roy Jean de Hongrie, autour de Bude, un gendarme fut particulierement remerqué de chacun, pour avoir excessivement bien faict de sa personne, en certaine meslee : et incognu, hautement loué, et plaint y estant demeuré. Mais de nul tant que de Raiscïac seigneur Allemand, esprins d’une si rare vertu : le corps estant rapporté, cetuicy d’une commune curiosité, s’approcha pour voir qui c’estoit : et les armes ostees au trespassé, il reconut son fils. Cela augmenta la compassion aux assistans : luy seul, sans rien dire, sans siller les yeux, se tint debout, contemplant fixement le corps de son fils : jusques à ce que la vehemence de la tristesse, aiant accablé ses esprits vitaux, le porta roide mort par terre.

De Montaigne, Michel. Les Essais (Version Intégrale, Livre 1, 2 et 3) (French Edition) (p. 4). e-artnow. Kindle Edition. 

Whe I dumped this French into Google Translate, I got something about the quality level of the Ives translation. So, I needed a real expert if I wanted to understand it. Enter Donald Frame.

In the war that King Ferdinand waged around Buda against the widow of John, king of Hungary, Raisciac, a German captain, seeing the body of a horseman brought in, whom all had seen doing extremely well in the melee, lamented him with an ordinary lament; but, being curious, like the others, to recognize who he was, he found, after they had taken his armor off, that it was his son. And amid the general tears, he alone remained without giving vent to cries or weeping, erect on his feet, his eyes motionless, staring at him fixedly; until the impact of sorrow, freezing his vital spirits, dropped him in this condition stone dead on the ground.

Montaigne, Michel Eyquem (1958). The Complete Essays of Montaigne. Stanford University Press. Kindle Edition. 

There can, of course, be disagreements about a translation’s quality, fidelity, and clarity. In the end, it must be the reader who makes the decision. Don’t just walk into the bookstore or click the online order button without first doing some research. If you can, begin with The Oxford Guide to Literature in English Translation, edited by Peter France and published by Oxford University Press. By the way, the Guide is not overly fond of the Frame translation: “For the most part Frame tries to preserve the style of the original by sticking close to the syntax, and the result is often obscure and awkward.” (p. 262). For me, at least, the passage from “Of Sadness” was certainly clearer in the Frame than in the Ives translation. But after reading the Guide’s comments, I looked at another translation I have of Montaigne, the 1993 Penguin Classics translation by M. A. Screech. Here’s how Screech translates the passage.

In the war which King Ferdinand waged near Buda against the widow of King John of Hungary, there was a German officer called Raïsciac. As he saw men bringing back the body of a soldier slung across a horse, he joined in the general mourning for the man who had shown exceptional bravery in the clash of battle. Like the others he was curious to know who the man was. When they took off the armour he recognized his son. Amid all the public tears he alone stood dry-eyed, saying nothing, his gaze fixed on his son until the violent strain of that sadness froze his vital spirits and, just as he was, toppled him dead to the ground.

Montaigne, Michel. The Complete Essays (p. 9). Penguin Books Ltd. Kindle Edition. 

Ahhh…Well, there is a lot to be said for the Screech.

Last words: Remember, the error, or communication breakdown, has several possible sources that are not mutually exclusive.

1. The source language document is obscure. 
2. The translation is erroneous.
3. There is a publishing error – typo, text lacuna.
4. You are confused, i.e., the text and translation are fine.

In the last case, I always ask my wife to explain it. That often works marvels.

All the best,
Gershon