Complete Works of Ba Jin Translation - Volume 2

Author: Ivan Turgenev (Russia)
Translator: Ba Jin
Publisher:
Publish Date: 1997-06-01
Features: Excerpt:
"Hey, Peter, can't you see anything?" The question was posed by a gentleman not yet past forty, on May 20, 1859, dressed in a dusty coat, revealing a checkered pants underneath, bareheaded, walking out of an inn① on a certain highway. He was speaking to his valet, a young man with round cheeks and light-colored, oil-slicked hair on his chin, a pair of small, lifeless eyes. This valet, everything about him—the sapphire earring in his ear, his unevenly colored, oil-slicked hair, and his elegant demeanor—all revealed that he belonged to the fashionable, progressive generation. He glanced dismissively at the road and replied: "Sir, I can't see anything, not a thing."
"Can't see?" The gentleman asked again.
"I can't see," the valet replied once more. The gentleman sighed and sat down on a small bench. While the gentleman sat there, bent over, gazing around with a thoughtful expression, we introduce him to the readers. His name is Nikolai Petrovich Kirsanov. His estate, located fifteen miles① from this inn, is a fine holding of two hundred serfs, or, as he himself put it after distributing the land to the peasants and establishing what he called "villages"—two thousand acres② of land. His father, a general who had fought in the 1812 campaign③, was a man of limited education but not ill-natured; a true Russian, he had spent his entire life in the military, starting as a regimental commander and later rising to the rank of division general, often stationed in the provinces where he became a rather important figure through his position. Nikolai Petrovich, like his brother Pavel, was born in southern Russia (we will discuss Pavel later), and until the age of fourteen, he studied at home, surrounded only by mediocre tutors, adjutants who were informal but obsequious, and other officers from various regiments and headquarters. His mother was the daughter of the Kolyazin family, known as Agathe④ before her marriage, but after becoming a general's wife, she was called Agafukleya Kuzminichna Kirsanova, a quintessential "magnificent general's wife." She wore exquisitely crafted hats and rustling silk dresses, always the first to approach the cross in the church⑤; she spoke in a loud, incessant voice, and demanded that her children kiss her hand every morning and bless them at night—altogether, she lived a life of great happiness.
Postscript: Preface by Chu Ji: Now, I will discuss the process of translating Turgenev's novels. A year after the establishment of Shanghai Cultural Life Publishing House, in April 1937, a group of friends engaged in editing invited each other to visit West Lake. We stayed at a small inn by the lake, climbing mountains and boating during the day, gathering in small rooms at night to chat. Li Ni and Lu Li were also among us. At that time, Cultural Life Press was compiling and publishing the "Translation Series," and the first volume was the Selected Works of Gogol, with Lu Xun's translation of "Dead Souls" being the first to attract readers' attention. We discussed publishing more masterpieces of Russian literature, and everyone agreed to produce another volume of the Selected Works of Turgenev. Li Ni had already translated "The House of the Nobleman," and the manuscript was still in her possession. The six major novels of Turgenev had already been translated into Chinese, but their sales were not strong, and it was difficult to find new translations at the time. We all agreed to translate the major novels first and publish them as we saw fit, starting with the selected works, with the possibility of later publishing the complete works. We discussed it happily, and at that moment, we decided on the topics. Each of the three of us was assigned two, Li Ni took "The House of the Nobleman" and "Evening," Lu Li took "Rodya" and "Smoke," leaving "Fathers and Sons" and "Virgin Soil" for me to handle. Upon returning to Shanghai, I found reference books and spent a night writing an advertisement introducing Turgenev's six major novels, and the names of the translators were also announced. I continued to be busy with my various tasks. Li Ni began revising the manuscript of "The House of the Nobleman," and Lu Li rented a house by the lake in Hangzhou to translate "Rodya" in seclusion. Both of them submitted their manuscripts quickly and published them soon after, receiving positive reactions. They continued their work, and I grew a bit impatient, but I still couldn't free myself from my various tasks. During the war, Shanghai became a "," and I fled to the south before returning to Shanghai to live for a year and a half and complete my "Three Continents." At that time, I was free from distractions, but I still didn't have time to translate Turgenev. Li Ni and the others completed their tasks, leaving only me to have failed to keep my promise. This time in Shanghai, I only had time to quickly review the English translation of "Fathers and Sons" and planned to start translating the next time I returned. I boarded a China Merchants' Steam Navigation Company ship and left the Shanghai pier, with my brother Li Yao-lin and Lu Li waving at me from the shore. The following December, World War II in the Pacific broke out, the "" fell to Japanese occupation, Lu Li fell into the hands of the Japanese invaders and his fate remained unknown, and my contact with Yao-lin was severed. I traveled to Chongqing, Guilin, and other places for Cultural Life Press's business and finally settled in Guilin. In 1942, I began translating "Fathers and Sons" there, with only a Soviet popular edition of Turgenev's Selected Works (a large volume, which was given to me by Mrs. Qin Baopu of Chongqing) and Garnett's English translation of "Fathers and Sons" at hand. I relied mainly on the English translation and referred to the popular edition for my work. That was in Guilin, and my life had a more regular routine. Cultural Life Press's dormitory was outside the east gate, and my old friend Lin Hanlu, who had retreated from Hong Kong to Guilin, rented a small bungalow in the east suburbs and shared a room with me. Every evening, after having dinner at Cultural Life Press, I returned here, lit a small kerosene lamp, and worked until twelve, then went to bed—every night was the same. The night was very quiet, and my work went smoothly, using a brush at first and later a dip pen. When I had translated half of it, I sent it to the printing office to be typeset and published as the first volume of "Fathers and Sons." At that time, the post office only accepted small packages for books and periodicals, so publishing "Fathers and Sons" in two volumes was also convenient for sales. "Virgin Soil" was longer and had to be divided into three smaller volumes. "Fathers and Sons" was translated to less than half when Lin Hanlu moved out of the small house in the east suburbs due to illness. I continued working alone in the house for a short period before moving back to Cultural Life Press's dormitory, still living next door to Lin Hanlu. Lin Hanlu's condition worsened, and he moved to the Universe Wind Society. At first, he treated himself with medicine prescribed by his family, but soon he collapsed and called for a renowned doctor. His condition did not improve, and he left this world on the eve of the old lunar New Year. His family was busy all night with their frantic actions, which I could hear clearly. It was in this painful environment that I translated "Fathers and Sons." This was the first draft. I then began translating "Virgin Soil." I had no access even to Garnett's English translation and started with an English translation from a "Popular Library" edition. Later, I found Garnett's translation and managed to have it sent to me from my family in Shanghai. I planned to change my life and traveled to Guiyang and Chongqing with Xiao Shan for a honeymoon trip in May 1944, intending to finish "Virgin Soil" before leaving Guilin. Therefore, when Guilin was evacuated, the manuscript of "Virgin Soil" was not lost, but it was translated hastily and not proofread against the original, which led to the later revision in the 1960s and 1970s. I will discuss "Virgin Soil" further in the preface to the third volume, but for now, I apologize and ask the readers for their forgiveness.
Regarding "Fathers and Sons," the first edition was printed on rough paper in two volumes. After the war, it was published in Shanghai as a combined newspaper volume. It was still distributed by Cultural Life Press. After the founding of the country, in 1953, I helped set up a manuscript for Pingming Publishing House in Shanghai, and I revised "Fathers and Sons" and handed it over to Pingming for publication. Before printing, I asked an older friend to read through the entire book and point out any awkward phrasing. "Fathers and Sons" was published in several editions by Pingming. Later, when Pingming merged into New Literature Publishing House, my manuscript was transferred to the People's Literature Publishing House, and I revised it again. This is the version now presented to the readers. I will not make any further changes, as I no longer have the energy or the ability to work.
I have no deep study of Turgenev, except for the two major novels, I have translated two novellas① and part of his prose poems. I have not written any essays because I could not. I have learned from him through translation. I say I am only a reader, and every time I revise the translation, I feel deeper. The greatest feeling is the gap between two generations, what we call the "generation gap." I was deeply impressed by Geng Ji's translation when I first read it. I often noticed that the older generation in my family and ours always had different and conflicting ideas. I thought about it one by one, comparing the older generation's ways and words with ours, and my aversion to feudalism was gradually forming. I sought help not only from "Fathers and Sons" but also from many books of the same era, and from my cousin Pu Jiyun, who taught me English, and from many friends. I have always been mindful of the generation gap between me and the readers, trying to bridge the divide. Even today, as I lie on my deathbed, I still seek the readers' understanding, and I also feel the happiness of being understood. Frankly, I am happier than Turgenev.
Ba Jin
August 17, 1995