giovedì 12 aprile 2018

SIMENON SIMENON. MAIGRET AND THE TRANSLATORS /1

Translators who are working on current Penguin Maigret novels answer some questions about their job 

SIMENON SIMENON. MAIGRET E I TRADUTTORI /1 
I traduttori che stanno lavorando ai romanzi di Maigret pubblicati dalla Penguin rispondono ad alcune domande sul loro lavoro 
SIMENON SIMENON. MAIGRET ET LES TRADUCTEURS /1 
Les traducteurs qui travaillent sur les romans Maigret actuellement publiés par Penguin, répondent à quelques questions sur leur tâche 

Simenon's novels have been published in so many languages that you could think his writing must be easy to translate. Yet this translating job may not be so obvious, and we thought it would be interesting for our readers to learn how translators deal with this workThus we posed four questions to the translators who are working on current Penguin Maigret novels. We thank them all for their answers. On Penguin site (https://www.penguin.co.uk/series/INSMAI/inspector-maigret/), you can see which Maigret novels have been translated by every of these translators.

Murielle Wenger -  What is the most difficult thing to deal with in the translation of a Maigret novel? 

Ros Schwartz - The biggest challenge is Simenon’s deceptively simple economy of language and to replicate his seamless style. Period detail too. In one novel, a female character goes to sleep with «épingles» in her hair. I couldn’t visualize these, so I needed to find out what women wore in their hair at night in the 1930s to make it curly. I eventually found the answer on eBay where someone was advertising a set of 1930s bobby pins. In another book he refers to a street with wooden paving, and I had to study old photographs of that street to see that it really was paved with wooden blocks. I really enjoy the research aspect of the work. The first dictionary I ever bought was a 1932 bilingual Harraps, when I was fifteen. It’s been gathering dust for the past few decades, but now it’s proving invaluable because it has all sorts of obsolete words in it. Like the name of the room in a railway station where they stored the gas lamps (lamp room or lamp cabin if you want to know). 

Howard Curtis - Paradoxically, the very simplicity, precision and concision of Simenon's style. The more flowery an author's style, the easier it is to paraphrase or to gloss over nuances of meaning. But Simenon doesn't give a translator anywhere to hide: he or she has to match the author with sentences as clear and precise as his are. 

Sian Reynolds - As with any text which dates from an earlier period, whether Madame Bovary or a Simenon novel, translators have to take decisions from the first sentence on how they are going to deal with the time lapse - dated expressions in conversation, obsolete technology, available vocabulary and so on. Even the later Maigret novels now seem to us to be set in a remote period. Should you update, stick to older language, or try and pitch it between the two? That's one set of problems.
But I'd argue that the most difficult thing about translating Simenon is really his deceptive simplicity. You have to pick up what is going on under the surface. The temptation is to interpret, whereas the French text, which uses simple sentences and a fairly restricted vocabulary, only hints at what is happening or being expressed, leaving much unsaid. I think my fellow translators in the Penguin collection would probably agree. 


MW - Among the Maigret novels you've translated so far, which one did you enjoy translating the most? 

Ros Schwartz - I’ve enjoyed them all in different ways, but my favourites are the ones with killer grannies. I can’t tell you the titles because that would be a spoiler. I love Simenon’s descriptions of place, the way he can capture the atmosphere of a provincial French town or Paris neighbourhood in a few broad brushstrokes.  


Howard Curtis  - I've really enjoyed all of them. And I've been very lucky, in that Penguin have allowed me to translate several of my personal favourites, in particular, Maigret's Mistake, which may be my favourite of them all. 

Sian Reynolds - I liked Maigret's Revolver (first published as Le Revolver de Maigret in 1952). As it happens I have a very battered 1950s copy of the French edition with a photo of a revolver on the cover. Inside, we are told that the gun was lent to the photographer by 'Antoine, arquebusier à Paris'. Then another plus is that the novel is partly set in London. Maigret spends a lot of time sitting in the Savoy hotel and failing to get a drink, because of the licensing laws. His take on the English is caricatural, but quite funny. Alas, as in many Maigret novels, the real villain (whoever commits the crime) turns out to be a scheming woman... 



MW - Which Maigret novel (besides the ones you translated) do you prefer, and why so? 

Ros Schwartz  - I really don’t have a favourite. They’re all so different. What’s amazing about Simenon is the diversity of storylines, locations, character

Howard Curtis - That's hard to say, as I like so many of them. My Friend Maigret is one that stands out in my memory for its wonderful sundrenched atmosphere. And I have a sentimental attachment to Maigret's Revolver because it was the first Maigret - and first Simenon - I ever read, when I was about thirteen.  


Sian Reynolds - I like one that's just called Maigret, published back in 1934 in French. The Maigret novels are chronologically confusing and in this early one, Maigret is grumpily being called back from his country retreat, after retiring, by his useless nephew who is a rookie policeman. Back he goes into the world of cafés and night clubs to help sort things out. Of course, many later novels have him in mid-career, though sometimes recalled from a provincial holiday. The new Penguin version is engagingly translated by Ros Schwartz 


MW -  What do you particularly like in the character of Maigret? 

Ros Schwartz - His profound humanity. Maigret is not so much interested in who but in why they dunnit. Maigret’s role is like that of a priest – a healer of souls. Simenon was endlessly fascinated by human nature and what drives people to murder or steal, so the dénouement is usually about Maigret getting the offender to explain why they committed their crime. Often, they do not end up being arrested. Generally, Simenon’s murderers are not ‘bad’ people, but ordinary people pushed beyond breaking point. And that’s what interested Simenon. You get a strong sense of ‘there but for the grace of God go I’. What is the trigger that can cause a person to commit a terrible crime? Often the answer is to be found in their childhood or their background – a long-festering grievance that pushes them over the edge. Another aspect I like is that Simenon/Maigret is always on the side of the ‘little people’, the ordinary working people. He’s very scathing about corrupt politicians and the wealthy. 

Howard Curtis - His humanity, his compassion, his insight into human problems, his wish to be a "mender of destinies". I was surprised recently to read Leonardo Sciascia's statement that there is no character in modern literature with a greater love of life and people than Maigret, but after thinking about it I can see exactly what he means. Maigret is never cynical about people's motives: the acts they perform may anger or even disgust him, but he is always able to understand what lies behind them. And of course he loves the everyday things of life: his wife's cooking, the taste of a glass of white wine in a neighbourhood bistro, the glimmer of light on the Seine, the changing Paris sky. Having read about him for years, and now translated so many of his adventures, I think of him almost as a friend. 

Sian Reynolds - I like his grumpiness, his love of Paris buses with an open platform on the back, (so that he can smoke his pipe), and am astonished by but do not recommend his capacity for drinking countless cognacs while on the job. 

mercoledì 11 aprile 2018

SIMENON SIMENON. MA QUANTO GUADAGNAVA GEORGES SIM?

Produzione e guadagni dei primi anni della letteratura alimentare

SIMENON SIMENON. MAIS COMBIEN GAGNAIT GEORGES SIM ?
Productions et gains des premières années de littérature alimentaire
SIMENON SIMENON. BUT HOW MUCH DID GEORGES SIM EARN?
Production and earnings in the early years of for-profit literature. 



Sim scriveva. Scriveva veloce tutto il giorno e la sera c'era il giro per consegnare il lavoro finito... o come diceva lui stesso "giravo come un artigiano che a fine giornata consegna la sua merce...". E Il giovane Sim produceva ad una velocità impressionante, e per questo era già molto famoso. Gli editori lo sapevano e ne approfittavano. Ma non nel senso che potreste credere, se ne servivano perché era fantasioso,veloce e puntuale. Ma il pur giovane Sim, anche in quel periodo di apprendistato, sapeva farsi pagare bene.
Ma vediamo prima la quantità di lavoro che gli veniva richiesto. Normalmente si trattava di di scrivere romanzi tra le 10.000 e le 20.000 righe. Nel primo caso gli erano sufficienti tre  giorni di lavoro, mentre nel secondo gli serviva tutta la settimana. Oppure erano racconti  di circa  2000 righe l'uno. E qui se cavava bene, perché in quattro/cinque giorni riusciva a buttarne giù una dozzina.
Iniziamo dai compensi di questi racconti, o talvolta romanzi brevi, che riusciva a scrivere anche in un sola mattinata. Per questi riusciva a portarsi a casa 500 franchi. Un prezzo particolarmente buono se confrontato con quello che veniva pagato un romanzo da diecimila righe, 1000 franchi. Ma non durò, almeno per lui. Sfruttando la soddisfazione degli editori per le sue doti, velocità, fantasia e puntualità, riuscì pian piano a tirare sul prezzo ed arrivò a prendere per diecimila righe prima 1500, poi 2000, raggiungendo i 2500 franchi.
A nemmeno venticinque anni il giovane Sim dava dimostrazione della sua capacità di trattare con editori che all'epoca si chiamavano Ferenczi, Tallandier e Fayard, preconizzando quello che, per esempio, sarebbe successo una decina  d'anni più tardi con un certo... Gaston Gallimard. 
Questa sua velocità nello scrivere e questa sua capacità nelle trattative lo avrebbe accompagnato nella sua vita di romanziere, ma creandogli non pochi problemi. Infatti questa sua rapidità nello scrivere gli avrebbe portato giudizi severi da parte della critica che non riusciva a conciliare la sua velocità con la qualità di ciò che scriveva.
Ma quanto produceva a quei prezzi? Tra il 1924 e il 1931 scrisse per Ferenczi un'ottantina di romanzi cosiddetti sentimentali e poi c'erano altri editori come Tallandier e Fayard. A volte erano romanzi brevi 2000 righe ma a volte superavano le 10.000. Non tutti gli  anni furono così, ma questo da un po' l'idea di come quella "letteratura alimentare", come la chiamava lui stesso, a quei ritmi poteva essere particolarmente redditizia e gli consentisse di vivere in una zona di prestigio come Place des Vosges.
Insomma la notorietà era ancora di là da venire, visto che usava una ventina di pseudonimi, per la fama occorreva aspettare i Maigret, e per i romans durs ancor di più. Ma nel frattempo il giovane Simenon stava decisamente abituandosi all'agiatezza, anticamera di quella ricchezza che l'avrebbe accompagnato per tutta la vita. (m.t.)  

martedì 10 aprile 2018

SIMENON SIMENON. MAIGRET ET LES ENFANTS /2

Le commissaire et le monde de l'enfance: ses rencontres avec les petits 

SIMENON SIMENON. MAIGRET E I BAMBINI /2 
Il commissario e il mondo dell'infanzia: i suoi incontri con i più piccoli 
SIMENON SIMENON. MAIGRET AND CHILDREN /2 
The Chief Inspector and the world of childhood: his encounters with the little ones 

Dans un billet récent, nous avons vu comment Simenon a fait de Maigret un père sans enfant, ce qui a eu des conséquences sur sa façon de mener ses enquêtes. Mais le romancier est allé plus loin: il a aussi doté le commissaire d'une grande nostalgie du monde de l'enfance, lui donnant des sentiments et des sensations fort proches de celles qu'il a pu éprouver pendant sa jeunesse: ainsi, on le voit tirer la langue pour happer les gouttes de pluie ou les flocons de neige, s'enfoncer au plus profond de ses draps lorsqu'il est grippé et retrouver le goût de la crème au caramel que lui préparait sa mère, ou se demander, dans Mon ami Maigret: "A présent, il était une grande personne, tout le monde le croyait, et il n'y avait que lui, de temps en temps, à s'en convaincre difficilement", ou encore, dans Maigret et la vieille dame, regretter que le monde ne soit plus "comme sur les images" d'un album pour enfants… C'est particulièrement avec les enfants de chœur qu'il rencontre qu'il retrouve ses souvenirs d'enfance, ce qui lui permet de les comprendre d'autant mieux lorsqu'ils sont mis en cause dans une enquête: voir Ernest dans L'affaire Saint-Fiacre ou Justin dans Le témoignage de l'enfant de chœur 
Cette sensibilité de Maigret aux enfants, on la voit aussi à l'œuvre dans L'écluse no 1, lorsque le commissaire se rend sur la péniche et voit Aline Gassin allaiter son bébé. Malgré sa gêne et sa maladresse lors de cette scène, Maigret n'en est pas moins assez observateur pour se rendre compte que les gestes d'Aline sont bien ceux d'une maman, et que l'enfant est bien le sien… Même attention aux enfants dans Maigret et le client du samedi, où le commissaire, bien qu'il ait eu l'envie de questionner la fille de Planchon, se refuse à le faire, car, nous dit le romancier, "sauf en cas de stricte nécessité, Maigret répugnait à interroger les enfants". De même, dans Maigret aux assises, c'est en pensant au fait que Meurant désirait tellement avoir un enfant que Maigret en tire la conclusion que celui-ci ne peut pas avoir délibérément étouffé la petite fille qui a été tuée en même temps que Léontine Faverges.  
Il est cependant un roman dans lequel Maigret a eu directement affaire à des enfants, dont la présence forme le fond de l'intrigue: nous voulons parler de Maigret à l'école. Si, au départ, Maigret accepte de se rendre à Saint-André pour un motif peu avouable, qui est le souvenir du vin blanc et des huîtres dégustées autrefois (et là aussi, on pourrait presque dire que le commissaire cède, en quelque sorte, à une impulsion presque enfantine…), il sera bientôt pris par cette "histoire de gosses", retrouvant des souvenirs de sa propre enfance, et en même temps, tentant de pénétrer, avec délicatesse, dans ce monde enfantin qu'il a quitté depuis si longtemps… Sa façon de questionner les enfants en cause montre encore une fois sa sensibilité dans une telle situation: lorsqu'il questionne Jean-Paul pour la première fois, et que celui-ci se montre plutôt récalcitrant, le romancier nous dit que si Maigret "avait eu un adulte devant lui, il se serait probablement mis en colère"; naturellement, le commissaire n'en fait rien et se montre particulièrement patient. De même avec Marcel, Maigret parle "d'une voix calme, encourageante", bien qu'il doive déjà sentir que l'enfant ne lui dit pas toute la vérité. Voir aussi comment il se reproche presque de poursuivre Jean-Paul quand celui-ci le fuit après l'enterrement de Léonie: "Le commissaire avait honte d'insister, se faisait l'effet d'une grosse brute s'acharnant sur un être sans défense." Un peu plus loin, le romancier note encore: "Avec un adulte, cela aurait été plus facile, Il y avait longtemps que Maigret n'était plus un enfant. Il n'avait ni fils, ni fille. Il lui fallait pourtant s'efforcer de penser comme son jeune interlocuteur." Et dans cette scène, Maigret va avancer à petit pas, tentant d'apprivoiser Jean-Paul. C'est la même délicatesse dont il usera lors de l'interrogatoire de Joseph, ce qui permettra d'atteindre à la vérité, sans devoir pousser l'enfant dans ses derniers retranchements. Dans toutes ces scènes, Maigret a montré patience et délicatesse, dont on ne peut dire qu'on le pensait dépourvu, mais, en raison des circonstances particulières, nous découvrons ainsi une nouvelle facette du commissaire. 

Murielle Wenger