Essay on the Principles of Translation

by Lord Alexander Fraser Tytler Woodhouselee

CHAPTER XIV

OF BURLESQUE TRANSLATION.—TRAVESTY AND PARODY.—SCARRON’S VIRGILE TRAVESTI.—ANOTHER SPECIES OF LUDICROUS TRANSLATION.

In a preceding chapter, while treating of the translation of idiomatic phrases, we censured the use of such idioms in the translation as do not correspond with the age or country of the original. There is, however, one species of translation, in which that violation of the costume is not only blameless, but seems essential to the nature of the composition: I mean burlesque translation, or Travesty. This species of writing partakes, in a great degree, of original composition; and is therefore not to be measured by the laws of serious translation. It conveys neither a just picture of the sentiments, nor a faithful representation of the style and manner of the original; but pleases itself in exhibiting a ludicrous caricatura of both. It displays an overcharged and grotesque resemblance, and excites our risible emotions by the incongruous association of dignity and meanness, wisdom and absurdity. This association forms equally the basis of Travesty and of Ludicrous Parody, from which it is no otherwise distinguished than by its assuming a different language from the original. In order that the mimickry may be understood, it is necessary that the writer choose, for the exercise of his talents, a work that is well known, and of great reputation. Whether that reputation is deserved or unjust, the work may be equally the subject of burlesque imitation. If it has been the subject of general, but undeserved praise, a Parody or a Travesty is then a fair satire on the false taste of the original author, and his admirers, and we are pleased to see both become the objects of a just castigation. The Rehearsal, Tom Thumb, and Chrononhotonthologos, which exhibit ludicrous parodies of passages from the favourite dramatic writers of the times, convey a great deal of just and useful criticism. If the original is a work of real excellence, the Travesty or Parody detracts nothing from its merit, nor robs the author of the smallest portion of his just praise.[67] We laugh at the association of dignity and meanness; but the former remains the exclusive property of the original, the latter belongs solely to the copy. We give due praise to the mimical powers of the imitator, and are delighted to see how ingeniously he can elicit subject of mirth and ridicule from what is grave, dignified, pathetic, or sublime.

In the description of the games in the 5th Æneid, Virgil everywhere supports the dignity of the Epic narration. His persons are heroes, their actions are suitable to that character, and we feel our passions seriously interested in the issue of the several contests. The same scenes travestied by Scarron are ludicrous in the extreme. His heroes have the same names, they are engaged in the same actions, they have even a grotesque resemblance in character to their prototypes; but they have all the meanness, rudeness, and vulgarity of ordinary prize-fighters, hackney coachmen, horse-jockeys, and water-men.

Medio Gyas in gurgite victor

Rectorem navis compellat voce Menœtem;

Quo tantum mihi dexter abis? huc dirige cursum,

Littus ama, et lævas stringat sine palmula cautes;

Altum alii teneant. Dixit: sed cæca Menœtes

Saxa timens, proram pelagi detorquet ad undas.

Quo diversus abis? iterum pete saxa, Menœte,

Cum clamore Gyas revocabat.

Gyas, qui croit que son pilote,

Comme un vieil fou qu’il est, radote,

De ce qu’en mer il s’elargit,

Aussi fort qu’un lion rugit;

Et s’ecrie, écumant de rage,

Serre, serre donc le rivage,

Fils de putain de Ménétus,

Serre, ou bien nous somme victus:

Serre donc, serre à la pareille:

Ménétus fit la sourde oreille,

Et s’éloigne toujours du bord,

Et si pourtant il n’a pas tort:

Habile qu’il est, il redoute

Certains rocs, ou l’on ne voit goute—

Lors Gyas se met en furie,

Et de rechef crie et recrie,

Vieil coyon, pilote enragé,

Mes ennemis t’ont ils gagé

Pour m’oter l’honneur de la sorte?

Serre, ou que le diable t’emporte,

Serre le bord, ame de chien:

Mais au diable, s’il en fait rien.

In Virgil, the prizes are suitable to the dignity of the persons who contend for them:

Munera principio ante oculos, circoque locantur

In medio: sacri tripodes, viridesque coronæ,

Et palmæ, pretium victoribus; armaque, et ostro

Perfusæ vestes, argenti aurique talenta.

In Scarron, the prizes are accommodated to the contending parties with equal propriety:

Maitre Eneas faisant le sage, &c.

Fit apporter une marmitte,

C’etoit un des prix destinés,

Deux pourpoints fort bien galonnés

Moitié filet et moitié soye,

Un sifflet contrefaisant l’oye,

Un engin pour casser des noix,

Vingt et quatre assiettes de bois,

Qu’Eneas allant au fourrage

Avoit trouvé dans le bagage

Du vénérable Agamemnon:

Certain auteur a dit que non,

Comptant la chose d’autre sorte,

Mais ici fort peu nous importe:

Une toque de velous gras,

Un engin à prendre des rats,

Ouvrage du grand Aristandre,

Qui savoit bien les rats prendre

En plus de cinquante façons,

Et meme en donnoit des leçons:

Deux tasses d’etain émaillées,

Deux pantoufles despareillées,

Dont l’une fut au grand Hector,

Toutes deux de peau de castor—

Et plusieurs autres nippes rares, &c.

But this species of composition pleases only in a short specimen. We cannot bear a lengthened work in Travesty. The incongruous association of dignity and meanness excites risibility chiefly from its being unexpected. Cotton’s and Scarron’s Virgil entertain but for a few pages: the composition soon becomes tedious, and at length disgusting. We laugh at a short exhibition of buffoonery; but we cannot endure a man, who, with good talents, is constantly playing the fool.

There is a species of ludicrous verse translation which is not of the nature of Travesty, and which seems to be regulated by all the laws of serious translation. It is employed upon a ludicrous original, and its purpose is not to burlesque, but to represent it with the utmost fidelity. For that purpose, even the metrical stanza is closely imitated. The ludicrous effect is heightened, when the stanza is peculiar in its structure, and is transferred from a modern to an ancient language; as in Dr. Aldrich’s translation of the well-known song,

A soldier and a sailor,

A tinker and a tailor,

Once had a doubtful strife, Sir,

To make a maid a wife, Sir,

Whose name was buxom Joan, &c.

Miles et navigator,

Sartor et ærator,

Jamdudum litigabant,

De pulchra quam amabant,

Nomen cui est Joanna, &c.

Of the same species of translation is the facetious composition intitled Ebrii Barnabæ Itinerarium, or Drunken Barnaby’s Journal:

O Faustule, dic amico,

Quo in loco, quo in vico,

Sive campo, sive tecto,

Sine linteo, sine lecto;

Propinasti queis tabernis,

An in terris, an Avernis.

Little Fausty, tell thy true heart,

In what region, coast, or new part,

Field or fold, thou hast been bousing,

Without linen, bedding, housing;

In what tavern, pray thee, show us,

Here on earth, or else below us:

And the whimsical, though serious translation of Chevy-chace:

Vivat Rex noster nobilis,

Omnis in tuto sit;

Venatus olim flebilis

Chevino luco fit.

God prosper long our noble King,

Our lives and safeties all:

A woful hunting once there did

In Chevy-chace befal, &c.