Η Πάπισσα και ο Ντάρελ

[nickel]

Γράφει ο Γ. Γιατρομανωλάκης στο προχτεσινό Βήμα:

Η Πάπισσα Ιωάννα ως Π.Ο.Π.

Η τραγελαγική (sic) ιστορία που επί 60 χρόνια θέλει ως συγγραφέα της «Πάπισσας Ιωάννας» τον μεταφραστή της Lawrence Durrell και όχι τον Εμμανουήλ Ροΐδη, χωρίς ποτέ κάποιος από εμάς να διαμαρτυρηθεί, δεν είναι η ίδια ιστορία με τα λεγόμενα «ελγίνεια». Όλοι θυμόμαστε με πόσο σθένος ο πρώην Υπουργός Πολιτισμού, ακολουθώντας τον George Clooney, διαμαρτυρήθηκε για τα «Μάρμαρα». Και όπως πάντα όλοι μας χαρήκαμε. Όμως για τον πολλάκις υβρισμένο και καταδιωγμένο Ε. Ροΐδη καμιά διαμαρτυρία γι αυτή την ανίερη παρανόηση. Ούτως ή άλλως η νεοελληνική πεζογραφία δεν πουλάει, όπως η φέτα και άλλα προστατευόμενα προϊόντα (Π.Ο.Π). Για τούτο ούτε καν μας ενδιαφέρει αν η ανατρεπτική «Πάπισσα» εμφανίζεται διεθνώς (προφανώς από λάθος) ως έργο του μεταφραστή της.
http://www.tovima.gr/opinions/article/?aid=615993​

Όχι από λάθος. Για να πουλήσει. Ενώ στις περισσότερες άλλες εκδόσεις (εγώ έχω τη σκληρόδετη, αριστερά) το όνομα του μεταφραστή και διασκευαστή είναι με μεγάλα γράμματα, πάντα με προβολή μεγαλύτερη από το όνομα του συγγραφέα, στην έκδοση που βλέπω ότι κυκλοφορεί τώρα το όνομα του συγγραφέα έχει εξαφανιστεί εντελώς από το εξώφυλλο.

Δείτε εντυπώσεις αναγνωστών για το βιβλίο:
http://www.amazon.com/Pope-Joan-Emmanual-Royidis/dp/0879517867
Κριτική:
http://www.medievalists.net/2011/12/29/book-review-pope-joan-by-lawrence-durrell/
Ισπανική μετάφραση από τη μετάφραση:
http://www.uniliber.com/ficha.php?id=796686

 

[sarant]

Έχεις βάλει αντικριστά το πρωτότυπο να δεις αν και ποιες ελευθερίες πήρε ο Ντάρελ;

 

[nickel]

Έχεις βάλει αντικριστά το πρωτότυπο να δεις αν και ποιες ελευθερίες πήρε ο Ντάρελ;

Στη σκέψη μου βρίσκεσαι; Όχι, δεν το είχα κάνει. Την Πάπισσα την έχω διαβάσει μόνο στα ελληνικά. Αλλά σήμερα αποφάσισα να δω αν έχει γραφτεί κάποια κριτική για τη μετάφραση και να κάνω μερικούς επιλεκτικούς ελέγχους.

 

[Earion]

Pope Joan: a romantic biography. By Emmanuel Royidis. Translated by Lawrence Durrell. London: André Deutsch, 1971.

 

[nickel]

Έχεις βάλει αντικριστά το πρωτότυπο να δεις αν και ποιες ελευθερίες πήρε ο Ντάρελ;

Να φανταστείς, έχω βγάλει το βιβλίο δίπλα μου εδώ και αρκετές βδομάδες και το 'χω και περιμένει. Σήμερα, είπα, είναι ευκαιρία. Έκανα την αντιπαραβολή και διαφορές δεν βρήκα. Οπότε είπα να αξιοποιήσω αλλιώς την ευκαιρία: να ανεβάσω εδώ την ενδιαφέρουσα εισαγωγή του Ντάρελ. Απολαύστε καλά αγγλικά.

 

[nickel]

Pope Joan
BY EMMANUEL ROYIDIS

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK
BY LAWRENCE DURRELL

to
GEORGE KATSIMBALIS


Preface​

THE LITERATURE of modem Greece, which hitherto has been completely unknown to western readers, is now beginning to be ex¬plored in some detail. Novels like Zorba and Aeolia have enabled one to judge how lively is the prose tradition of this comparatively young country, while the names of poets like Cavafy and Seferis have begun to occupy their rightful place in the European tradition to which they have contributed and from which they spring.

Pope Joan has a double claim on our attention for it occupies a central position among the popular books of modern Greece; and it is also in its own way a small masterpiece which might occupy a position on the bookshelf of the discerning reader midway, say, between Candide and Thais. It is a masterpiece of irreverence, witty and a trifle improper in parts; but it is a very genuine example of a Mediterranean book, and in the hands of Royidis the character of Joanna becomes something more than a satirical puppet—a stick with which to beat the clericals. Indeed Pope Joan is a sort of brief record of the history and misfor¬tunes of Eros after his transformation by Christianity from a God to an underground resistance-movement.

Papissa Joanna, as the book is called in Greek, sets out to trace the history of the mysterious Pope John VIII who for two years, five months and four days ruled Christendom from the seat of the Supreme Pontiff. Its author, Emmanuel Royidis, was born in 1835 and died in Athens towards the end of 1904. There seems little doubt that the romance was begun as a satire of affairs; but there is even less doubt that midway through the book Royidis found himself head over heels in love with his heroine, for he treats her with a sympathetic irony and tenderness which brings her very clearly to life.

Papissa Joanna first saw printer’s ink and paper in 1886. The book’s first appearance created a sensation. The authorities of the Orthodox Church were horrified by what seemed to them to be the impious irony of its author—and no less by the gallery of maggot-ridden church fathers which he described so lovingly. Royidis was excommunicated and his book banned. Despite the official prohibition, however, the book swept him to fame in Athens, while translations into other European languages brought him a certain degree of domestic respect among critics. The French edition alone sold several hundred thousand copies. The contrast is instructive, for the French Catholic press refused to rise to the elaborate tease and gave the book a smiling welcome for its very real literary qualities; realizing, one supposes, that the historic Joanna (if she ever existed) had long since joined all the other figures of church folklore and that literary squibs like these were hardly likely to disturb any serious faith worth the name. The Orthodox Church however remained extremely touchy on the envenomed subject of the she-Pope and after Royidis’ death his fame seems to have suffered an eclipse in Greece, and it was only in 1920 that an edition of Papissa Joanna reappeared in Athens. It has sold steadily ever since, and at the time of writing its author’s fame is secure in the history of modern Greek literature.

Royidis accepted his excommunication and Joanna’s with philo¬sophical indifference; as a good republican and anti-clerical he no doubt felt that he had managed to hole the enemy below the water¬line. The odd thing is that while his book is the lightest and deftest of romances—a mere soufflé of a novel—it is based upon a profound know¬ledge not only of the period in which Pope Joan lived but also of the tangled mass of documentation upon which the case for her real exist¬ence rests. The author’s preface to the definitive edition of Pope Joan consists of a lengthy review of those authorities which mentioned the she-Pope, and a considered assessment of the various claims for and against her existence. You would think that all this had little enough to do with the romance, but Royidis defended himself against his critics by asserting that he had invented very little for which some authority could not be found, and that his picture of Athens in the ninth century was derived from unimpeachable sources.

He reminded his critics with some asperity that the work contained only ‘facts and events proved beyond discussion’ and added for good measure: ‘vague and ill-founded protests on behalf of morality will not only be meaningless but will remind us of the English poet’s phrase: “Only the immoral talk of morals”.’

So much for the professed intentions of the author; and so much for his sources. But when both have been established it remains to be said that the character of Joanna rides far above the circumscribed literary or sociological preoccupations of her creator. Like all good characters, she gives the impression of having been created rather than invented, and there is something touching about the innocence which is her only weapon against the real world with its bigotries and penalties.

Of Royidis himself a good deal has been made known; born to a modest patrimony he travelled much, and studied in France and Germany. A republican, he was naturally an Anglophile and read English for his own pleasure and instruction. In middle years he had to contend with money troubles, and during the tenure of Tricoupis as Prime Minister was several times appointed as Librarian to the Athens Library, only to be dislodged by the incoming Royalist faction.

His later years he spent in poverty—yet his stocky bearded figure was familiar to all who frequented the little taverns and eating-houses of the Athenian Plaka. Increasing deafness gave his features the expression of an urbanity and detachment which very well suited the creator of Joanna.

As an essayist and pamphleteer he was well known to the Athenian public, but it is doubtful whether any of his work in this field would justify translation. He was a man of one book—and having written it he was often called upon to defend it. This he did with great wit, irony and charm. Deaf to literary criticism as such, he was far more sensitive to the suggestion that Pope Joan was a purely apocryphal figure. He insisted to the last that he had invented little of the original story, and his pamphlet on the evidence for the existence of Pope Joan let loose all the pent-up flood-waters of rhetoric and scholarship with which he did not care to mar the romance. For Royidis was in love with Joanna, and could not bear to see her treated as a ninth-century myth.

But what of the historical Pope upon whom our author has based his narrative? The latest writers who have been bold enough to enter the arena have given us to understand that she is a fiction. This view, needless to say, is not shared by Royidis, who has devoted several pamphlets to the subject. Did Pope Joan exist in truth? The whole position is admirably summed up by Platina, and by the fact that he felt bound to include her in his Lives of the Popes. Nobody can claim that the evidence of her existence is more than circumstantial; yet if so serious an historian as Platina—himself a secretary to a reigning Pope, and a librarian to the Vatican—felt bound to include Pope Joan in the canon of the Popes, we must conclude that the force of tradition, from many sources and for many years, must have dictated this distasteful choice. Here is her biography, as given in Platina:

‘POPE JOHN VIII: John, of English extraction, was born at Mentz and is said to have arrived at Popedom by evil art; for disguising her¬self like a man, whereas she was a woman, she went when young with her paramour, a learned man, to Athens, and made such progress in learning under the professors there, that, coming to Rome, she met with few that could equal, much less go beyond her, even in the know¬ledge of the scriptures; and by her learned and ingenious readings and disputations, she acquired so great respect and authority that upon the death of Leo (as Martin says) by common consent she was chosen Pope in his room. As she was going to the Lateran Church between the Colossean Theatre (so called from Nero’s Colossus) and St Clement’s her travail came upon her, and she died upon the place, having sat two years, one month, and four days, and was buried there without any pomp. This story is vulgarly told, but by very uncertain and obscure authors, and therefore I have related it barely and in short, lest I should seem obstinate and pertinacious if I had admitted what is so generally talked; I had better mistake with the rest of the world; though it be certain, that what I have related may be thought not altogether incredible.’

So much for the historical position of the she-Pope whose life has been the subject of theological controversy from the Middle Ages until today. There have been numerous pamphlets written about her but nothing of the interest and freshness of this slight novel; but perhaps I should signal a lost Elizabethan play which figures on the long check¬lists of Henslowe’s Diary. The name of the author is not given and the text has not survived, but it is amusing to find the she-Pope figuring on a list which includes names like Marlowe and Shakespeare; the subject matter might well have tempted the former but . . . specu¬lation is useless unless the play itself should one day turn up to chal¬lenge comparison with Royidis’ small work. It is doubtful whether any positive evidence for or against her existence will ever be unearthed, but so long as the myth can give us fiction as sparkling as Papissa Joanna we should not grumble too much. The historian may cry, ‘Pope John VIII is dead’, but he will hardly forbear to add—under his breath perhaps—‘Long Live Joanna’.

And now having performed the formal act of introduction to the double entity—Pope Joan as history, and Pope Joan as literature— it only remains for me to commend her to the ‘clement’ reader whom Royidis so often invoked as he wrote—and whom, he said, she had never yet encountered in her native Greece.

I do not know whether it is good literary form to dedicate other men’s books to one’s own friends: but I have taken the liberty of inscribing this edition of Pope Joan to that giant of modem Greek scholarship and good humour Mr George Katsimbalis, who occupies in modern Athenian literary circles the position of a Dr Johnson. I think there is not a student or translator but owes him a debt for his work in the various fields of modern Greek literature; and I can think of no more suitable recipient for a dedication on the title page of the present book. Royidis would have agreed, had he been living. Indeed it was he, Katsimbalis, who first brought the book to my notice in 1939, in the course of one of those long growling walks about the purlieus of Athens—walks made so vivid by the discursive con¬versation of one of the world’s best talkers. We stopped before a bookshop window in which a copy of Pope Joan lay, cockling slowly in the sunlight. ‘Now there’s a good book,’ growled Katsim¬balis, jabbing the window-pane with his huge stick, and rolling from one leg to the other. ‘It is a typical scamp of a book, a Greek book, full of good fun, bad taste, and laughter and irreverence.’

I cannot see how a reader who values any of these qualities in his writers could fail to agree.

LAWRENCE DURRELL​

 

[AoratiMelani]

Ισπανική μετάφραση από τη μετάφραση:
http://www.uniliber.com/ficha.php?id=796686

Το λινκ με βγάζει σε κάποιο κόμικ. Βάζοντας βέβαια στην αναζήτηση Papisa Juana βγαίνουν διάφορες βερσιόν του βιβλίου και εδώ μια αναλυτική περιγραφή. Γιατί όμως λένε "μετάφραση και προσαρμογή από τα ελληνικά του Λώρενς Ντάρρελ"; Αφού εσύ λες ότι δεν είδες διαφορές.

 

[nickel]

Αφού εσύ λες ότι δεν είδες διαφορές.

Καλημέρα. Λάθος έκανα ή μισές αλήθειες είπα. Έχει φάει ο Ντάρελ την εισαγωγή του συγγραφέα και έχει δικές του σημειώσεις στο τέλος, όχι τις ίδιες με του Ροΐδη. Στο κανονικό κείμενο δεν έχω βρει διαφορές, ακόμα και σε δύσκολα σημεία. Θα κάνω μια εξαντλητική αντιπαραβολή σε επόμενη ευκαιρία και θα επιδιώξω να καταθέσω και ωραία μεταφραστικά ζητήματα.

 

[sarant]

Πολύ ωραίο θέμα, ταιριάζει με τις γιορτές που έρχονται!