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Jules Verne Anthologies
There are numerous Jules Verne anthologies out there. Most of these anthologies
are being put out by publishers that are reprinting bad English language translations,
mostly because the material is in the public domain, meaning it doesn’t cost them
anything. There are few anthologies out there that are worth checking out and some
to avoid.
Review(s):
Amazing Journeys: Five Visionary Classics
Contains: Journey to the Center of the Earth; From the Earth to
the Moon; Circling the Moon; 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas;
Around the World in 80 Days
Translator & Critical Material: Frederick Paul Walter. Albany, NY: SUNY Press,
2010. 668 pages. some illus.
Softcover — ISBN-10: 1438432380, ISBN-13: 978-1438432380
Arthur C. Clarke once remarked that Jules Verne was “one of the greatest storytellers
of all time” but added that he was also “one of the most widely distorted,
censored, and mistranslated authors of all time” (William Butcher, Jules Verne:
The Definitive Biography [New York: Thunder’s Mouth, 2006], xv–xvii).
From the pioneering work of the late Walter James Miller in the 1960–70s to
my own modest contributions more recently, Verne scholars have made good progress
in rehabilitating Verne’s literary reputation over the past few decades. There
has been an exponential increase in the number of academic studies of Verne’s
oeuvre, many of which have appeared in the pages of SFS. And, since 1965,
more than three dozen first–time or improved English translations of his novels
have been published (as per the bibliography available in Verniana, an
online journal devoted to the legendary author, at <http://www.verniana.org/volumes/01/HTML/ArtBiblio.html>).
Frederick Paul Walter’s omnibus collection of new Verne translations called
Amazing Journeys is the latest and one of the best examples of this anglophone Vernian
“renaissance.” It offers (at a surprisingly affordable price) very good
English–language versions of no fewer than five of Verne’s most popular
works: Journey to the Center of the Earth (1864), From the Earth to the
Moon (1865), Circling the Moon (1870), 20,000 Leagues under the Seas
(1869), and Around the World in 80 Days (1873). In his brief but perceptive
introduction—titled “Science and Showbiz” and to which I will
return in a moment—Walter outlines his two–fold goals: he wants his
“reader–friendly” translations of Verne to be “accurate
… complete down to the smallest substantive detail” but also to be “communicative
… to convey [Verne’s] humor, theatricality, and scientific excitement”
(10).
In comparing these translations against Verne’s French versions, I can affirm
that the first of these two goals—completeness—has been achieved to
an admirable degree. Although, like most reprints of Verne, this edition does not
reproduce all the wonderful illustrations that graced his original in–octavo
volumes, the translator is very scrupulous about including the entirety of Verne’s
text. He even reproduces the various “meta” components such as Verne’s
many editorial footnotes (some, explaining US customs and weights and measures,
have been moved to endnotes) as well as the chapter headings in the table–of–contents
pages that originally accompanied most of these novels. Walter’s English renderings
adhere to Verne’s original paragraphing; he does not add episodes or fabricate
descriptions of his own, as one frequently discovers in some of the poorer Verne
translations of these novels. And, as he explains in his extensive “Textual
Notes” at the end of the book, he has put considerable effort into making
sure that his versions are both accurate and lucid:
I’ve used the Livre de Poche red–cover reissues as working editions, but since no editions seem entirely free of typos and production slips, I’ve double–checked the LdP reprints against the many available online texts as well as early Hetzel and Hachette editions…. Where the original French texts refer to people, places, things, or concepts that may be obscure to a 21st century American, I’ve sometimes attached a footnote or incorporated a quick gloss in the text proper. My footnotes are labeled Translator’s note. All others are from the French editions. (657)
The second of his goals—“communicativeness”—proves to be
somewhat more complicated. To convey, in translation, the intricacies and effects
of an author’s narrative style is a real challenge for any translator. In
my opinion, Walter’s bold new translations of Verne achieve this goal better
than most. But some purists might argue that he too often crosses the line between
faithfulness and creativity. For example, the very title of the omnibus is Amazing
Journeys—referring, one assumes, to Verne’s own collection title Voyages
Extraordinaires. But “amazing” (suggesting the reader/observer’s
reaction to something) is not really the same thing as “extraordinary”
(an attribute of the thing itself). And, although nicely descriptive, Circling the
Moon does not precisely reproduce Verne’s original title Autour de la
lune [Around the Moon]. Further, consider some of the following passages
in the novels themselves.
In chapter 8 of Journey to the Center of the Earth, Professor Lidenbrock
forces his nephew Axel to ascend a tall church steeple in Copenhagen in order to
cure him of his fear of heights and to prepare him for their underground explorations.
He tells him: “Il faut prendre des leçons d’abîme!” [We
must take abyss lessons! (trans. Malleson) or You need to take lessons in precipices!
(trans. Butcher)], which is rendered here as “You need to get an education
in depth!” (38; emphasis in original). The clever phrase “education
in depth” does not transcribe exactly what Verne wrote; it does, however,
denote the same idea and—important for Walter—communicate the same tongue–in–cheek
humor and wordplay that the author often indulges in throughout this novel.
Chapter 22 of part I of 20,000 Leagues under the Seas (notice how Walter
includes the final “s” on Seas, an often overlooked detail but an accurate
transcription of Verne’s original title) features an episode in which Papuan
savages attack the Nautilus and are repulsed by an electrified companionway. Verne’s
original text says: “Mais le premier de ces indigènes qui mit la main
sur la rampe de l’escalier, rejeté en arrière par je ne sais
quelle force invisible, s’enfuit, poussant des cris affreux et faisant des
gambades exorbitantes” [But the first of these natives to put his hand on
the railing of the companionway was thrown back by some invisible force, and ran
off shouting and jumping about wildly (trans. Bonner)]. Walter’s translation
says: “But when the first islander laid hands on the companionway railing,
he was flung backward by some invisible force, Lord knows what! He ran off, shrieking
in terror and wildly prancing around” (413). Colorful expressions such as
“flung back,” “Lord knows what!,” “shrieking in terror,”
and “wildly prancing about” certainly serve to enliven the scene for
the anglophone reader—but one might also argue that they push the envelope
of what is an acceptable level of translator embroidery.
Finally, at the end of chapter 2 in Around the World in 80 Days, Passepartout
has just made the acquaintance of his new employer Phileas Fogg. Unaware that they
will soon depart on an adventure–filled race around the globe, he is congratulating
himself on being hired by such a staid and predictable gentleman: “‘Cela
me va! voilà mon affaire! Nous nous entendons parfaitement. Mr. Fogg et moi! Un
homme casanier et régulier! Une véritable mécanique! Eh bien,
je ne suis pas fâché de servir un mécanique!’” [This is
just what I wanted! Ah, we shall get on together, Mr. Fogg and I! What a domestic
and regular gentleman! A real machine; well, I don’t mind serving a machine
(trans. Towles) or This suits me! This is the perfect place for me! Mr. Fogg and
I will understand each other perfectly. A homebody, and so methodical! A genuine
automaton! Well, I am not sorry to serve an automaton! (trans. White)]. Walter’s
rendering of this passage is as follows: “It’s a perfect fit! It’s
right down my alley! We’ll get along famously, Mr. Fogg and I! He’s
a homebody, an orderly man! A real piece of machinery! Well, it won’t pain
me to have a domestic appliance for a master!” (547). The use of the American
colloquialism “right down my alley” by a Victorian–period character
of French background may seem to some readers a bit anachronistic or culturally
suspect. And, although I personally find it hilarious, some might also view Phileas
Fogg’s transformation from a “machine” to a “domestic appliance”
to be a clear case of excessive translator license.
Such attempts by Walter to spice up Verne’s prose do not necessarily constitute
a betrayal of what Verne originally wrote. Literal translations are often worse
than less literal ones: they are too “accurate” and not sufficiently
“communicative.” Consider, for instance, the following examples from
chapter 21 of From the Earth to the Moon. In this episode, the plot focuses
on a duel to the death agreed to by the main protagonists Barbicane and Nicholl,
forcing Michel Ardan to intervene in order to prevent this tragedy from happening.
The chapter is titled “Comment un Français arrange une affaire”
[How a Frenchman Settles a Matter]. The standard English translation for this chapter
is “How a Frenchman Manages an Affair,” a literal rendering whose stylistic
clunkiness is exceeded only by its confusing ambiguity. Walter’s version—both
clearer and snappier—is “How a Frenchman Deals with a Duel.” At
one point in this same chapter, Barbicane’s Gun Club colleague J.T. Maston,
worried about his friend and fearing the worst, laments: “‘Il faut que
tout soit fini,’ dit Maston découragé. ‘Un homme comme
Barbicane n’a pas rusé avec son ennemi, ni tendu de piège, ni
pratiqué de manoeuvre! Il est trop franc, trop courageux.’” The
traditional and literal translation of this passage is “‘It must be
all over,’ said Maston, discouraged. ‘A man like Barbicane would not
dodge with his enemy, or ensnare him, would not even manoeuvre! He is too open,
too brave’” (trans. Lewis). Compare this stilted rendering with Walter’s
more supple and expressive version: “‘It must be over and done with,’
Maston said despondently. ‘A man like Barbicane wouldn’t trick his enemy,
or lay a trap for him, or even use any strategies! He’s too direct, too courageous’”
(199). It seems obvious which of the two versions “communicates” better.
Amazing Journeys is explicitly designed and written for the American market:
“My translations are intended for the U.S. public” (657). In his introduction,
Walter not only criticizes the poor traditional British translations of Verne but
also openly proselytizes what he sees as an historically important US/Verne cultural
connection:
These five classics are more than household words, they’re joyous parts of our American heritage, from their films and Saturday morning cartoons to their connections with the U.S.S. Nautilus, the NASA space missions, and our other technological triumphs. And the USA itself is crucial to these novels: two have major American sequences, one divides its time between America and outer space, and still another takes place entirely in the U.S. So this volume is targeted to the American public….
For American purchasers, then, the texts convert metric figures to feet, miles, pounds, and other U.S. equivalents. The Americana, too, will be convincing for U.S. readers, sparing you the eye–rolling moments that can occur with overseas translators….
Finally, these translations work to suggest Verne’s style and tone—the stealthy wit, irreverent prankishness, tale–spinning virtuosity, and showbiz flamboyance of one of literature’s leading humorists and satirists. This is a Verne almost completely unknown to Americans … yet a Verne who has an uncannily American mindset. (10)
Walter may be exaggerating his case somewhat here, since neither America nor Americans
figure anywhere in Journey to the Center of the Earth, they are foregrounded
in only a relatively small part of Around the World in 80 Days, and—apart
from the frigate Abraham Lincoln and Ned Land—there is little of
either evident in 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas. But it is certainly true
that Verne, at least during the first half of his writing career, greatly admired
all things American (see the special issue of Revue Jules Verne 15 [2003]
called “Jules Verne et les États–Unis” as well as my own
article “Jules Verne’s America” in Extrapolation 48 [Spring
2007]: 35–43). As for Verne’s supposedly “American mindset”
and his being one of literature’s “leading humorists,” I have
my doubts, but I will leave that discussion to other Verne scholars.
One discovers a bit more (typically American?) puffery and hyperbole in one of the
otherwise excellent introductions that precede each of the five novels. Walter claims
that Verne’s Journey to the Center of the Earth is “the world’s
first time–travel novel,” ignoring a host of pre–1864 time–travel
stories including Louis–Sébastien Mercier’s Memoirs of the Year
Two Thousand Five Hundred (1771), Émile Souvestre’s The World
as It Shall Be (1846), and even Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol
(1843). He also claims that Verne’s novel was the first to feature “monsters
from the Age of Dinosaurs,” but this honor actually goes to Verne’s
fellow Frenchman Pierre Boitard in his Paris Before Man (1861). These few
quibbles aside, Amazing Journeys: Five Visionary Classics remains a unique
and impressive red, white, and blue–collar collection of refreshing translations
of Verne that gives new life to some of the old storyteller’s most famous
tales. It is recommended for all English–language aficionados of Jules Verne,
American or not.