Bai Jin Translation Complete Collection, Volume 1

Author: Kropotkin (Russian)
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 1997-06-01
Features: Preface to the Translation Collection The content of the translation collection is arranged in the following order: Volume I: My Autobiography (Kropotkin); Volume II: Father and Son, Mumu, Punin and Balbin, The Threshold (Turgenev); Volume III:, Prose Poems (Turgenev), Remembrance of Turgenev (Pavlovsky); Volume IV: Memoirs and Reflections, The Drama of the Family ( Herzen); Volume V: The Grassland Stories and Others, Literary Portraits, Remembrance of Brodsky (Gorky), Tolstoy on Tolstoy (Trotsky), The Death of Spring Month (Sugawara Sōjūrō); Volume VI: The Red Flower Collection (Garshin), The Happy Prince Collection (Oscar Wilde), The Late Bloomer (Storm), The Six (Rudolf Rokel); Volume VII: The Dance of the Skeletons (Akita Yasuraku), The Flower of the Wayfarer (Edo Amichi), The Death of Danton (A. Tolstoy), The Midnight Hour (Leo Kornfeld), The Spring in Autumn (Yuri Bakhar), Laughter (D. Namirov, et al.), The Song of the Rebel (Pushkin, et al.); Volume VIII: Underground Russia (Stepnyak), The Story of My Life (Van Zedey), The Struggle in Spain (Jokel), Warrior Trudti (Emma Goldman, et al.), Spain (A. Suks), The Diary of an International Volunteer (A. Ming), The Diary of Spain (C. Roselli), The May Uprising in Barcelona (A. Suks); Volume IX: Prison Notes (Berkmann), Twenty Years in Prison (Vera Figner), Bread and Freedom (Kropotkin); Volume X: The Origin and Development of Ethics, To the Youth, Social Change and Economic Transformation (Kropotkin). The translations collected here are either based on the latest editions or revised versions of the author's Selected Works of Bakin, with a small number based on pre-1949 editions; among them, "My Autobiography" and "The Origin and Development of Ethics" were comprehensively revised by Cheng Shi according to foreign language editions. The annotations for each volume, except those explicitly marked as original notes or annotations by translators of other languages, are by the Chinese translators. For the convenience of readers, an index of the entire collection is appended at the end of the tenth volume. Editorial Department of People's Literature Publishing House, September 1996
Excerpt: My Childhood Moscow — The Old Stables District — Early Memories — The Kropotkin Family — My Father — My Mother Moscow is a city with a very slow historical development, and to this day, the traces left behind in its historical journey are preserved in excellent condition. Along the banks of the Moscow River, there are wide and quiet streets lined with low houses painted in gray, giving a monotonous appearance; the gates of every household are locked day and night. This area is the retreat of the merchant class and the headquarters of the severe, conservative, and autocratic Old Believers, a non-Russian religious group. The Kremlin remains the base of the church and government to this day; the vast land in front of the palace is dotted with thousands of shops and warehouses, and for centuries, it has been a bustling commercial district and remains the heart of domestic trade across the entire empire. Tverskaya Street and the Ironworkers' Bridge have been the two main centers of fashionable department stores for hundreds of years; while the worker districts of Pirozhkovskaya and Durovskaya still retain the distinctive scenes of the noisy residents who lived in Moscow when it was the capital. Each district forms its own small world, with its own unique characteristics and special way of life. Even the railways, when they first began to invade the old capital, gathered their warehouses, workshops, and loaded trains and locomotives in several special centers outside the city. Behind the Kremlin, between the streets of Arbat and Prechistenskaya, there is a maze-like network of clean and quiet, winding streets and alleys, which to this day is still called the Old Stables District. In all of Moscow, there is probably no place more peculiar than the Old Stables District. About fifty years ago, the old Moscow aristocracy lived in this district and gradually declined here. Their names were common in Russian history before Peter the Great, but later they had to give way to the newcomers (i.e., the "all ranks" recruited by Peter the Great to found the Russian Empire) and retreat. These former nobles, feeling excluded from the new court in St. Petersburg, were forced to retreat to the Old Stables District in Moscow, with some even retiring to picturesque villas in the countryside near the capital. As a result, they could not help but feel disdain and secret envy toward the group of "unknown" foreigners who held high-ranking positions in the new capital on the Neva River. In their youth, most of them entered the civil service, especially in the military; however, for various reasons, they soon resigned and did not achieve high-ranking positions. Those who were more successful still secured a leisurely, almost honorary position in their local area (my father was one of them), while the majority completely retired and lived in leisure. Although they wandered throughout the vast lands of Russia throughout their lives, they always made sure to return to their own homes in the Old Stables District, spending their later years near the churches where they had been baptized (and where their parents' funerals had also been held, with the final prayers read there).
Afterword: In lieu of a Preface Shu Ji: I have said that I am not a translator and that I do not master any foreign language. I undertake translation work only to borrow the weapons created by others. These weapons have helped me, and I am willing to introduce them to my readers. The translation of the Volume "My Autobiography" was published earlier and is one of the most literary of the three volumes of Kropotkin's works I translated, which had a great impact on me. When it was first published, I wrote an "Introduction," saying it was for my younger brother, mainly discussing my own feelings. This "Introduction" was later included in the prose collection "Confession of Life" and was removed from the "Autobiography" in subsequent editions. Although the "Autobiography" did not sell well in China, there were several versions of it. The first edition was published by Shanghai Qiming Bookstore and printed only one thousand copies, which was in 1930. Later, Shanghai Publishing Cooperative reprinted it in 1934 as the first volume of the "Illustrated Collection of Kropotkin's Works," using the old typeface of Qiming Bookstore. In early 1939, after surviving "hundreds of explosions" in the south, I returned to Shanghai and wrote the novel "Autumn" in the "Island of Solitude." During this time, I revised some of my old translations and had them republished by familiar bookstores. This revised "Autobiography" was handed over to the Kaiping Bookstore and continued to be published until 1949. I have retained the preface to the Kaiping edition in this volume. The most recent version was published by Sanlian Bookstore in 1985. An "Appendix" was added to the book, which was the preface to the 1966 Russian edition written by B.A. Tvarodovskaya. Without seeking the approval of the Sanlian editorial office, I was unable to include it in this volume. Later, I would like to discuss the process of translating this book. The translation of this book was completed in early 1930, and it probably began the previous year. In 1927, when I first arrived in Paris, my friend Wu Kengang was translating the "Autobiography." His small room was filled with a stack of torn pages from student exercise books, covered in handwriting that was crooked and not very dense. This was the first draft, and only a part of it, with a French "Autobiography" open beside it. Originally, he had started with the part on Western Europe, where he was familiar with people and stories, such as Graf, and he took me to the countryside to visit these old people. He told me that if I had any questions, I could write to them for help. However, less than three months later, Wu Kengang was expelled from France by the government for participating in international activities and later returned to Shanghai to teach at the Labor University. I corresponded with him little, and my connection with the old people was severed. The next year, I also returned to China and met Wu in Shanghai. My main concern was still the stack of pages filled with fountain-pen handwriting (his first draft). Without saying much, I took a large bundle of paper and another old French "Autobiography." He entrusted this work to me. A year later, I completed the translation and gave the Qiming edition of the "Autobiography" to Wu, thanking him for his contribution to my translation (today, I would also like to say, "He greatly helped my personal development"). He smiled faintly, and we never discussed this again. However, I have always felt that a book tightly bound two Chinese intellectuals together in friendship. The "Autobiography" was published in various versions, and in the blink of an eye, it has been over sixty years. I often recall those vivid days of the past, think of my long-lost friends, and long for them deeply. Suddenly, Wu appeared before me. Unfortunately, I was hospitalized again due to a broken bone and lay in bed, speaking weakly. Several conversations failed to convey my meaning. I looked forward to the future, holding a belief—I would surely get up. But before I could, he left the mainland. In my bed, I spoke little but thought much, not only about my "Collected Works" but also about my "Collected Translations." Regarding the "Collected Translations," as you know, I have always been undecided. At first, I promised you, but later I hesitated. My illness led me to abandon the translation of Herzen's "Memoirs," as I lacked the energy, ability, and time. Now it is my turn to summarize for myself. Should I revise it? Should I publish it? I could not find a satisfying answer for myself. Later, when I finally decided to revise it and wrote the preface, I still felt regretful for not having asked Wu Kengang to proofread the "Autobiography." What's more unfortunate is that my condition gradually worsened, and I could not assist you in the work of the second collection. In my distress, I met a friend who was deeply passionate about translation. He had just retired from the International Department of Xinhua News Agency and, naturally, had the time, energy, and ability. He was willing to proofread the "Autobiography" for me, so I gave him a copy of the 1906 British popular edition. I translated the "Autobiography" based on my twelve-edition American original, but the British popular edition included an additional preface written by the author in 1906, which was said to have been purchased entirely by the Tsarist government and is rarely found in circulation. Ma Zongrong, my older brother, had a copy and considered it a treasure, refusing to lend it out, but Wu used a typewriter to make a copy for himself. My "Postscript" was translated based on this copy. In 1935, I found a British popular edition in an old bookstore in Tokyo, Japan, and I also considered it a treasure. This time, I handed it over to Xu Chengshi, only asking him to give it a quick review. However, he worked diligently and responsibly, and being deeply concerned with Kropotkin's works, he not only pointed out my mistakes but also corrected many unsuitable translations. When I received the revised manuscript, I felt my wish had been fulfilled, and for this, I am grateful to this old friend. As I finished writing these words and prepared to put down my pen, I suddenly felt as if something was holding my hand and grasping my heart. I remembered the life of the past, the distant friends. A large round face, a series of bright laughter, sincere and honest, as if he gave his heart to others when he spoke. It was a person like that, who became my friend from a reader, a contributor from a translator, and the main translator for the publishing house. He chose the path of translation, and I encouraged him, sending his translations to readers one by one. He loved translation, working day and night, even under the harsh conditions of the Cultural Revolution, he still insisted on translating Chekhov's complete works, making Chinese readers understand the love for that Russian writer who opposed vulgarity. He dedicated his later life to translation, everything he had, even his health. He deserved the title of "translator." After the Cultural Revolution, seeing me busy, he once said to me, "You won't finish your translation work, I'll take it over from you." He was full of confidence, and I believed him too. I was twelve years older than him, and I thought I would always be ahead of him. He loved literature, was indifferent to fame and fortune, and we shared the same interests, so I was willing to accept his help. But unexpectedly, he left the world first, and so quickly that he gave me no time to understand or express my gratitude. Otherwise, when the first volume of the "Collected Translations" is published, I would feel at ease. When he first left this world, I was in the hospital, silently accepting the news. Today, I dedicate this volume to him—Translator Ruyong—as a memorial. Ba Jin July 19, 1995