Handling Stylistic Features in Translating from Russian to English: the Case of Tolstoy, Dostoevsky and Chekhov

Your ordinary decent Russian has a weakness for these unsolved problems. Where other peoples romanticize their love, garnishing it with roses and nightingales, we Russian bedizen ours with dubious profundities--and the most tedious available, at that. [Hingley]

We respectable Russians are drawn precisely to these problems which have remained without a solution. People of other nations poeticize love or adorn it with roses and nightingales, but we Russians have to adorn love with imponderable problems, and we always pick on the most uninteresting problems too. [Bartlett]

The bold start with `your ordinary decent Russian' to my ear conveys the author's intent in this passage very well, and the word decent conveys the adjective порядочные better than respectable since respectable people may not always display decent behaviour (which is implied in the Russian word). Then, `bedizen' is a literary word; In English, literary words lend themselves better to metaphor, and so it, ironically, sounds more profound. Although, against if we were to listen to Nabokov's admission, Chekhov would not have used such vocabulary. The ending in Hingley is also accurate, conveying the opposition well. Unfortunately, he falls short in his attempt to render роковые вопросы as `dubious profundity', making the meaning swerve into a different direction. Bartlett sticks closer to the original meaning, and in general, is acceptable, but it does not have the same pithiness and terseness as the original. Hingley, clearly, set out to render this in idiomatic and gaudy English, but went too far and ended up translating incorrectly. The translation he employs is merely incorrect, and moreover, it eliminates a subtle touch that is revealed at the end of the story. To amend this, it seems to us that the word quandary would be a better choice. Combining both translations, we would get:

The question remains whether to insert that `dubious' there, as it is somewhat implicated in the claim, but not necessarily so--some people might take it seriously, after all. The word `quandary' naturally springs to mind when we look at the problems (quandaries, really) faced by the protagonist. What he is describing is what he experiences himself, first-hand. The narrative is a series of quandaries, a series of `to be or not to be' momentous decisions. Now, both translations make it opaque since `dubious profundities' and `imponderable questions' do not, ironically, reflect the content of the story itself. The Russian might wonder about these dubious profundities or ponder about these imponderable questions, but this is not what the story is about. For this reason, we believe that the translation suggested is more stylistically sensitive and is, thus, a better representation of the original.

Hingley's attempt to make the text look more English does not end with the domestication of names or faulty translations. For instance, he goes on to (perhaps inadvertently) archaize the text.

Excerpt 2

The Oxford Dictionary of English (hereafter ODE) defines `unbosom' (making it as archaic) as `disclose (one's thoughts or secrets)'. Now, it is not necessarily meant that they tell them their secrets, it is more similar to a rant or lament, or a combination of two. Bartlett employs a more straightforward translation here, capturing the sense well. She also does better with `make a point of' instead of `deliberately', since, well, they make a point of it--this is the most natural translation of this passage. It is worth noticing that очень интересные истории which gets rendered literally in Bartlett is bland in both languages (again nudging us to believe Nabokov was not so removed from truth), but Hingley here makes a good attempt to improve on this, inventing the most fascinating tales, which it seems, is precisely what Chekhov was trying to say. This would have enhanced Bartlett's translation.

In a few places, he takes quite a bit of liberty with the text. In one instance, he transforms short introductory passage to dialogue into a question that the protagonist poses to himself. The resulting translation feels awkward because he asks himself, and then the `yes' that follows seems distant and unrelated. It might make the reader believe that the protagonist is asking his health condition (of course, he is not). Bartlett does not take such liberties and rendered this passage much better. Hingley also misunderstands or misreads and renders бодрее as `more sure of yourself'--which is on the verge of grammaticality and should read `surer', instead; and `очень интересны' as `you were quite fascinating'. This is a fascinating translation, indeed; it is hard to argue why the meaning of the passage was changed so much.

Excerpt 3

In others, he makes elementary blunders, which Bartlett corrects.

Excerpt 4

Evidently, there is no other way but misunderstanding as to the probable reason for this translation.

Next, we will see another fragment to illustrate how creative use of language sometimes may yield a better translation. The solemnity implied by `embodiment of integrity/integrity incarnate' is slightly excessive, compared to the straightforwardness of noble being that Bartlett uses. The simplicity offered by Bartlett is too compelling to be dispensed with.

Excerpt 5

Sometimes, both translations failed to convey the style altogether. The impressive parallelism in the original manages to pack a punch and lend a familiar tone since Russians are much more receptive to proverbs. Hingley went for the parallelism and used dereference to explain, but lost terseness; the result is bland, and the style is lost. Bartlett's translation is much simpler; the rendition is literal too, but simpler. In both cases, it is clear that they befriended the protagonist, but translating this emphatic transition is essential to preserving Chekhov's style, that `attention to detail' which Nabokov attributed to him. It is still something to be deserved.

Excerpt 6

Hingley also consistently mistranslates the tone. Need I say more clearly does not fit the context; it would be used in a persuasive speech, but not to ward off thoughts that ought not to happen. Barlett translates this correctly. The first line also proved challenging. This is a little detail that reveals that the poryadochnyi (that is, decent) protagonist will not even consider this possibility--this should have eliminated the very option of translating the last emphatic line as `need I say more'. The word `заставили' is particularly challenging; it is translated generally as induced here, but convince and persuade are also possible. Text in underline demonstrates that both translations rendered this circumlocutional clause fairly literally. This is the gist of the problem, and it fails to convey the intent and style of the author. It does not create the same effect in English. We tried to re-create this effect by shifting the clauses and eliminating the circumlocution.

Excerpt 7 (emphasis in bold and underline are mine)

Post-translation analysis

They represent two opposite approaches to translation. Hingley attempts to domesticate the source text, by leaving out the patronymics and anglicising names (i.e. Pavel Alexeevich to Paul). Bartlett reverses this trend and tries to stick to a more literal approach. Hingley does strive to replicate Chekhov's terse style but falls short since he foists an English worldview on the source text and occasionally misunderstands the meaning. Bartlett is more sensitive and conservative, preferring to stick with straightforward translations in general. More or less, Bartlett is better than Hingley, but both do not quite succeed in representing Chekhov's style in English as well as Myers does for Dostoevsky or Slater for Tolstoy.

The most challenging problems were:

1. Knowledge of source language (sometimes translators made elementary blunders).

2. Shift of register: colloquialisms, proverbs.

3. Descriptive metaphors and epithets (Hingley was inconsistent and overly idiosyncratic; Bartlett passable).

4. Terse, snappy lines (which are translated too literally, too close to the original syntax).

5. Use of dereference, remarks in-passing (have to be reworked to work in English, see case 7).

6. Untranslatable words (poryadochnyi, needs contextual equivalents).

7. Subtle details that mirror the plot (see the first case).

All in all, a good translation that would do justice to Chekhov is still something to be desired.

2.4 The Case of Dostoevsky

Pre-translation introduction and analysis

Comparison of Translations

A few lines into the first paragraph, we read a picture of building tension using graduation and antithesis. MacAndrew and Garnett both render теперь, literally, as now, inadvertently turning it into conjunction, i.e. “as a consequence of the fact”. Myers emends (Garnett's translation is in public domain so he could have consulted it) this oversight to `nowadays', correctly conveying the protagonist's evolving mental state. Next, Myers astutely renders that this impression endures in spite of opposition. The next теперь is also rendered as now in Garnett and, moreover, ambiguity creeps in with `just then' -- it is not clear when exactly. The narration is also disrupted by `as I look at them' and the use of `could' which suggests that the protagonist is ruminating about this, reflecting on the past, which is not the case. The last three lines were rendered more or less correctly by Garnett. Therefore, in Garnett, the opening paragraph reads like a reflection of things long past, whereas in Myers, it is a bitter tirade. MacAndrew falls short of Myers but is much better than Garnett. Out of all four translators, he's only one to use contractions, lending the text a relaxed feel.

Nabokov quipped that the word toska had no English equivalent. In a brilliant move, Myers translates it ex post facto as anguish. The notion of anguish appeared after Dostoevsky, who is considered to be the forerunner of existentialism (Kahn, Lipovetskiy, Reyfman, & Sandler, 2018). Garnett would not have been aware of these developments and so translates as `miserable', which is acceptable. However, the antithesis is considerably weaker, and for some reason, she leaves out `очень' that Myers renders as `a great deal' that leaves a touch of personal testimony to it. McAndrew invents `in fact' and clearly does not pack a punch--the antithesis is much weaker and not as snappy as in Myers or even Garnett. He also assuages the point excessively by rendering this elusive toska as `upset very much', upsetting the dramatic opening and making it look like an amenable situation.

Excerpt 1 (emphasis in bold mine, italics and small caps left as it is)

Typographic treatment in Myers also reveals more considerable attention to detail. The copula am is set in small caps, stressing the word. Although this is not present in the Russian text (the equivalent formula would have been “Я -- смешной человек”) bolsters the gravitas. The scruples tormenting the protagonist are neatly italicised, capturing the reader's attention. Garnett renders одно обстоятельство as something and then anaphorically repeats it as that something was the conviction, finishing by two additional clauses that actually contain the main idea. Myers renders the cadence of the Russian text much better, and the italics -- not found in the original -- do not mar the impression, but actually improve it. Garnett also leaves `постигшее', rendered in Myers as dawning. MacAndrew goes with the another route and omits the detail about the nascent anguish in the protagonist's soul and moreover, he fails to emphasise what is crucial in this passage, missing out the tone and the punch of the original, albeit italicising was at the end of the passage--but it is still too weak.

The eye-opener here is that Garnett grossly mistranslated the climax of the passage as `nothing existing', inadvertently making the protagonist embrace solipsism. Italics are a godsend. Now, the horrendous effect of this blunder is multiplied by the next three lines, after which we read into the protagonist the conviction that he is certain that this was the case in the past, and also in the future.

Excerpt 2 (typography left as it is except in MacAndrew)

After considering the first couple of paragraphs, it becomes clear that, unfortunately, Garnett has put the reader in a helpless predicament of misunderstanding, out of which there is no easy way out, but reading something else. McAndrew also completely misunderstands the passage (but no solipsism for now) and uses the past perfect tense, leaving the impression that the protagonist was somehow reflecting on his life that he had lived. As well as that, he, lamentably, interprets too much and inserts extraneous text not found in the original, purportedly to ease understanding.

But let us now consider the literalist-minded P&V that, in principle, should be safeguarded against such blunders--the literalist approach precludes explanatory amendments to the original and omissions.

Excerpt 3

In principle, `with me there was nothing' could be taken to mean `there was nothing around me', albeit the reader might think that nothing should start with a capital N since it is apparently personifying nothingness. There is no solipsism, but the lack of accuracy is apparent in evident. Both Garnett and Myers have `in the future either' which is really meant by that little и in the source text which P&V lamentably leave out (probably by mistake), resulting in an assertive declaration that misguides the narrative but does not lead to an uncorrectable error.

By now, it is evident that translations have quite diverged. It is surprising that we should find translators tripping over simple obstacles, but so it is.

In the next example, we will see how translations manage emphasis frequently found in Dostoevsky. Garnett's contemporaneity to Dostoevsky is strikingly apparent in this passage. She makes the protagonist appear solemn and dignified; spelling shall in full and translating the emphatic совершенно утвердительно as certain. Garnett and MacAndrew both made the question that protagonist poses to himself too abstract, making it feel like that he is wondering whether this is the right revolver or not. Myers translates his hesitation correctly and eliminates this redundancy by a more appropriate `quite positively', which sounds natural. MacAndrew leaves out `наверно' in the next line, assuaging the protagonist's conviction. Both Garnett and MacAndrew go for similar phrases, rendering уж конечно as no doubt, while Myers retains the emphasis found in the original. In other words, Garnett and MacAndrew fall short of conveying the intensity that Dostoevsky portrays at the end of this chapter. While it may be argued that `positively' might be replaced with `complete conviction' or other phrases, the full phrase reads `quite positively' suggesting deliberation on the part of the protagonist.

Excerpts 4 (paragraph sign and emphasis in bold mine)

The next case presents particularly interesting challenges because there are a number of ways to render it. The protagonist is about to break down and makes a solemn appeal to God just before the grave is about to open. He experiences a momentous surge of emotion and then calms down. All four translations are very different. As we remember, Garnett is more or less contemporary to Dostoevsky, and this is visible through the language used to render this passage. Myers is unique in his deliberate archaization: he renders the 2^nd personal singular as thou, reflecting the conventional solemn address reserved for God. Dostoevsky does not employ biblical diction; neither does he employ archaic conjunctions (e.g. ежели, коли), but he does use inversion. We feel that Myers, lamentably, has elevated the tone but has only done it half-way. The language we find in Garnett such as suffer it to be here now and hold my peace (both archaic) would sound perfect in Myers. MacAndrew is generally accurate but does not elevate the tone or attempt to make it more solemn than it is. Myers is also slightly misled with `ill-advised', foolish or unreasonable would have worked better.

Excerpt 5 (emphasis in bold mine)

We will also consider how translators handle rhetorical exclamations. We will also see how some creativity on the part of the translator can illuminate a passage. The challenge here is simple: how to handle that пусть? Both Garnett and MacAndrew follow the literal sense and insert `granted' and `suppose', respectively, lending it a meditative tone, which is not what Dostoevsky intended. It seems that combinations of particles posed particular challenges to these translators as they struggled to understand the meaning. Had we removed the participle ну, the translation would have been correct. They also somehow managed to miss the exclamation. Again, Myers understood this passage correctly and did not insert extraneous deliberation. Both Garnett and Myers chose the more straightforward flowing out and pouring down instead of flying out (MacAndrew), but this is not as important, as the tone and intent are lost. Unlike all other translators, Myers deliberately archaises, rendering оттуда as yonder--perhaps, to emphasise the remoteness of that state. Dostoevsky could have used this word had he spoken English; it is quite plausible since it had been much more used in the 19^th century than in the 20^th as Google Ngram data for `yonder' indicates. All in all, it seems a very sensible decision.

Excerpt 6

The previous comparison shows that even a cursory look at the translation is usually enough to understand what went into the making of the text. But even the best translations sometimes engage in excessive literalness. There is a stylistic gaffe on the part of Dostoevsky in the original text: большее расширение соприкосновения, which is excessively redundant even by standards of Russian. In this case, it is best to circumvent this stylistic redundancy by re-phrasing if other stylistic features are preserved. Myers apparently misunderstood this and opted for an unwieldy calque `ampler breadth of contact' which does not sound English. Garnett's went for “greater fullness of contact”.

Simply put, `greater contact' would have been better; or, `greater communion' as used by MacAndrew, which is clearly the best option stylistically and semantically. Garnett seems to have missed this altogether. There is no word `communion' in Russian -- and this explains why Dostoevsky had to use `единение', but not `объединение'. In fact, the sense of oneness is not quite the same as единение, which implies mental and spiritual exchange -- that the word communion conveys perfectly. Taken to the letter, `sense of oneness with the universal Whole' suggests identity, i.e. identity (oneness) with the universal Whole. Apart from this calque, Myers manages to translate everything correctly. In other words, we see that misunderstanding on the part of the translator leads to the reproduction of stylistic inaccuracies (as calqued expressions) in the target text.

Excerpt 7 (emphasis in bold mine)

Post-translation analysis

In this chapter, we have tried to illustrate the various challenges that literary texts pose to translators. We have analysed 7 contexts and found that most translations do not faithfully convey the style and the tone of the original. The most challenging problems facing the translators were:

1. Knowledge of source language (translators frequently failed to understand what the source text actually meant).

2. Rendition of words that lack an equivalent (toska).

3. Retaining cadence and rhythm (most translations were lacking in this regard).

4. Rendition of solemn speech (whether to archaise or to leave as it is).

5. Extra emphasis (archaisation and typographic treatment, employed by Myers frequently and once by MacAndrew).

6. The balance between literal fidelity, idiomaticity and paraphrasing (used only by MacAndrew).

7. Broadening (as opposed to narrowing down) and elimination of redundancy, choice of vocabulary.

Even more disappointing is that translators frequently misunderstand even the most straightforward language, sometimes betraying their lack of knowledge of the source language.

All in all, out of all translations considered, Myers' translation is the best. Mindfully archaising, he creates a faithful rendition of Dostoevsky in English with accuracy, consistency and elegance. In six out of seven contests, he successfully tackled all challenges posed by the source text. In the last context, he failed to eliminate a stylistic redundancy in the original version that leaves an unwieldy expression in the translation, which is potentially confusing, but it does not otherwise spoil the translation -- and that decision might have been deliberate. Translation made by Garnett is confusing and outright misleading, betraying an incomplete understanding of language and insensitive approach to phrasing. P&V translations have been examined in previous cases and in general, fail semantically. MacAndrew's translation frequently captures the rhythm of the letter, but unfortunately is marred by a large amount of paraphrase, extraneous insertions and misunderstanding. Thus, only Myers' translation can be considered to be a faithful rendition of Dostoevsky in English. Our observations agree with France (2000), who reports that Myers has managed to captivate the `frantic orality' better than all other translators. We do not espouse his view that P&V strike a satisfactory balance between literal fidelity and idiomaticity since we have shown that in Tolstoy and here that their approach is deficient and, therefore, is unlikely to result in a good translation.

2.5 Observations

We have studied several translations of the three Russian canonical authors. In total, we included 21 excerpts for analysis. Below, the chart illustrates factors that impacted most on accuracy. The chart indicates which issues were seen in the analysed contexts.

It gives the overall picture of the complexity of translation. It does reflect that translators frequently struggle with interpretation of the source text. Overall, it is perhaps unsurprising that Dostoevsky and Chekhov offer the most potential for misreading. Tone, rhythm and cadence are very important in Tolstoy and Dostoevsky and less challenging in Chekhov. Tolstoy and Chekhov are both verbally inventive, and, therefore, creatively challenging. There is much potential for confusion in narrowing the sense correctly for Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, as well.

Fig. 1. Factors which impacted on accuracy.

What good translations have in common

Having analysed several translations of the three authors, there are a few important observations to make. Translations that best represent the source text, i.e. the most accurate combine formal and dynamic equivalence, predominantly preferring the latter. To make this happen, this sometimes involves transformations that are far from obvious. One factor is vocabulary. An essential characteristic of a fluent and idiomatic translation is its lexicon. It is widely recognised that English has the largest vocabulary out of all living languages, compelling writers and translators to tap into to achieve greater precision. Other languages sometimes have to string several adjectives to create noun phrases where the same thought may be pithily expressed in English. Of course, this does not award linguistic supremacy to English in any way, but it is important to observe that vocabulary choice is vital. Because of the older literary tradition and generous borrowing from other languages, it has grown enormously over the last three centuries, lending the writer access to express thoughts concisely and accurately. It can not be said that Russian has a poor vocabulary; it has also borrowed a large number of words from Latin and other European languages, giving birth to a lot of false cognates with English. A good vocabulary has been an important mark of education for many English speakers. And since there is a larger number of options to choose from, many words have a narrower sense than in other languages. Native translators usually subconsciously understand this, since they will in most cases produce idiomatic language (again, being aware of these constraints).

Good translations strike a balance between foreignising and domestication. On the one hand, they do not attempt to conceal that it is a translation, first and foremost; that it is expressing the sense of words in a different language. Relevant footnotes (not covered in our research, but actually present) help the reader cope with potential difficulties. Any translation from Russian is immediately recognisable by the presence of seemingly (to a speaker of English) dual names, which look like middle names but are an important marker of social and relationship status.

No less important to a good translation is a dash of creativity. Metaphors sometimes might be challenging; the syntax complicated; the word-play seemingly untranslatable. Translation, after all, is still an art because a mechanistic approach rarely works in practice. As we have seen in the translation of The Ridiculous Man's Dream, the translator displayed some wit when translating, actually improving on the original, whilst remaining accurate and idiomatic.

What poor translations have in common

Translators must know both languages very well to translate. What was revealing is that in translations of Dostoevsky and Chekhov, some translators frequently displayed a poorer command of source language than was expected. In a few cases, this resulted in gross mistranslations because translators made elementary blunders. Poor command of language also inhibits translating style properly.

Poor translations also excessively shift the balance between domestication and foreignisation to the former, inadvertently impinging on style, since by deciding to adapt the text too much, the style and intent are necessarily lost. It also goes without saying that it is indeed hard to conceal the fact that a translation is a translation.

Some translations exhibited liberal treatment of the source text. Fortunately, we have not observed the plot being changed or other mutilations of that sort, but sometimes dialogue was turned into monologue; clarifying sentences inserted purportedly to make reading easier. We do not, by all means, wish to assert that such alternations are absolutely out of the question. Of course, there are some cases in which it might be necessary. And it goes without saying that poetry is untranslatable any other way (except in prose).

Literal translations deserve a special mention. It is evident that literal translations, which by definition are not idiomatic, ignore the very fact that languages are not equal and that words in different languages mean different things and, therefore, betray the sense of the original text more often than not. They exhibit considerably inferior vocabulary choice than idiomatic translations, which do not blindly follow the original syntax and choice of words. Partly this may be explained by the fact that P&V team is composed of a native speaker of Russian and a native speaker of English. The translation method they use is simply: translate literally into English and edit the result afterwards. As we have seen, most of the time, this results in a sub-par translation, because the literal rendition fails to take account not only of the syntagmatic breath of lexis, but also the influence of word order and, sometimes, even grammaticality.

All in all, this has a tremendous impact on semantics and the ultimate meaning of the text. All translations done by P&V are of this type and follow the same pattern. Not only the individual style lost, but the meaning is also often perverted. Why these translations have managed to gain traction (which is why they are being considered) is an interesting question. We felt it very important to explicate their shortcomings and advice anybody against following their footsteps.

Recommendations and suggestions

Tjulenev (2004) argues that in some cases, transitory translations may be sufficient to introduce readers to the author's work. The problem is that poor translation perpetuates misunderstanding and creates a false impression.

The recipient culture is always more important than the source culture, and in the target language, usage is absolutely king. Therefore, a translation should strive to sound English. Otherwise, it might sound unsophisticated--which is the least issue; worse, it might misrepresent the original and its distinct style. As we see, a good translation should strike a balance between idiomaticity and literal fidelity.

Previously, a corpus would have been more frequently consulted by translation theorists and to student translators, but nowadays, it is becoming increasingly frequent among practising translators (Kenny, 2011). Corpus enables to supplant the translator's intuition by empirically sound observations. We believe there are several use cases for taking advantage of a corpus:

1. It can help spot idiosyncratic language in the source language.

2. It can help tailor the language to be appropriate to a particular timeframe (if a historical dictionary, such as the OED is not available).

3. It can help produce idiomatic language in the target language, which is particularly important for non-native translators.

Unfortunately, there is no historical dictionary comparable to the OED available for the Russian language that enables to trace the development of a particular word. For this reason, translators will have to resort to other methods to trace the development of a word.

It is particularly important to ensure that the resulting translation is easy-to-read and observes the syntactic conventions of the target language. For this, it may sometimes be necessary to use run-on sentences (see Slater in Tolstoy) or add anaphoric pronouns to amend the situation. Following the syntax of the original too closely will result in unwieldy sentences (see P&V in Tolstoy).

Conclusion

In this study, we embarked on a survey of several translations of Russian short stories. Armed with the close-reading approach and tools (corpus and dictionaries), we demonstrated that sometimes translators struggle with simple language and fail to distinguish between the author's coinages and common parlance. This study has been prompted by the lack of translation surveys that would cover the most read Russian authors. It is hoped that this study will fill this gap, given the popularity and importance of translation to the dissemination of literature. We revealed that the pioneering translations of Constance Garnett were in fact, in many cases, misguided and tone-deaf. For a long time, it was the only ones available. We argued that a balanced approach is essential for a successful translation. It is also hoped that student translators will find this study useful; translation is still an art. Myers and Slater particularly displayed linguistic creativity in their work. This study has not been exhaustive, and there is potential for further research, such as studying individual authors more thoroughly, focusing on one work, or comparing all individual translations. Nevertheless, we can confidently assert that Tolstoy and Dostoevsky are rendered well in English, at least in the translations that we analysed. Unfortunately, this is still not the case for Chekhov. Translations of Chekhov are frequently misguided and lacking in elegance. We offered suggestions and insight based on our findings.