FOLDER

Press, Volume LXXXII, Issue 24902, 15 June 1946, Page 5

FOLDER

Mr C. E. Vulliamv, in a 8.8. C. series on the English diarists and letter writers, spoke of the contrast between those letters in which the poet expressed his spiritual hopelessness— The most forlorn of beings, I tread a shore under the burthen of infinite despair, that I once trod all cheerfulness and joy—

and those which utter his "delight in baubles,” squirrel-house, the cucumbers, the ducks and dabchicks, the eight pairs of pigeons, and the three tame hares of Olney. The most heartrending of all tragic letters . . . were written by the man who could write in so cheerful and entrancing a style about the picnic dinner in “the Spinnie,” the inconvenience of a creaking table, his little summer-house “crowded with pinks, roses,, and honeysuckles,” and the "warmth” of gingerbread; the man who delighted in rural peace where no sound was heard save that of “the birds hopping on their perches,” while the sunlight, passing through the leaves of a tall elm, fell on his desk “with all the softness of moonshine.” Cowper’s poetry is vulnerable to many forms of criticism. It is not so with his letters. They are written in English prose of incomparable lucidity; and if the reader does not find them to his liking, it is only because he does not find William Cowper to his liking. No letters have ever contained, either so implicitly or so evidently, the portrait of a lovable and afflicted nature.

In his pamphlet, “On Translations,” reviewed to-day in these columns, Sir Stanley Unwin says that a steady and most welcome improvement, durin the last 40 years, in the quality of translations into English and in the status-of translators, is not paralleled in all European countries; and he refers particularly to Spain and Portugal: The present fervent desire for translations of British books vastly exceeds the number of translators competent to prepare them, and some of the leading publishers in those countries are much concerned about the resultant inadequacy and inaccuracy of many of the “translations now being published. It is a matter of the utmost importance to the authors whose work is being translated.' This may be judged by the following examples of French as wel las Spanish and Portuguese mis-translations of literary and scientific works chosen at random from scores to which my attention has recently been drawn. _ “*I took her word for it” translated as “I promised her I would do it.” “You are kidding” becomes You are uncovering yourself.” , . “No; I liked it”—No; I love him.’ “A girl with a face like that could get away with murder” is translated “A girl with a face like that had to travel with a murderer.” ... „ . "He has the run of the village becomes "He drinks all the village’s rum, and "He devilled for her" is changed into “He became the devil’s advocate. Turning to a standard work of fractures. . "The effects of a pneumatic drill becomes , ~ . “The effects of a bicycle pump, and “A patient who is fit only for light work” is printed „ “is fit only for work by artificial lighv.

An American publishing-trade journal reports an odd clause in a lady novelist’s contract, whereby her publisher pays her psychiatrist s bills during the period of the writing of a book. It is charged off to research. Joseph Carter, in the “Saturday Review of Literature,” chides his countrymen for neglecting the works of Julia A. Moore. Her “Sentimental Song Book,” he found, had been borrowed from the New York Public Library only once—and that 30 years ago. His regard for the lady who came to be known as The Sweet Singer of Michigan” will surprise nobody who remembers any of the few specimens of her singing which were exhibited to English readers in The Stuffed Owl.” Once heard, .who could forget the ditty entitled Sketch of Lord Byron's Life”? It was m The Stuffed Owl”; Mr Carter rightly prints every line of it, fantastic quotation marks and all. Here is it: “Lord Byron” was an Englishman A poet I believe, His first works in old England Was poorly received. , ~ Perhaps it was "Lord Byron s fault And perhaps it was not. His life was full of misfortunes. Ah, strange was his lot. The character of "Lord Byron” Was of a low degree, Caused by nis reckless conduct, And bad company He sprung from an ancient house, Noble, but poor, indeed. His career on earth was marred By his own misdeeds. Generous and tender hearted. Affectionate by extreme, In temper he was wayward, A poor "Lord” without means. Ah. he was a handsome fellow With great poetic skill. His great intellectual powers He could use at will.