BMCR 2009.06.50: Greaney on Robertson, Euripides: Medea

Robin Robertson (trans.), Euripides: Medea.  New York:  Free Press,
2008.  Pp. xxii, 85.  ISBN 9781416592235.  $16.00.

Reviewed by George L. Greaney, Hofstra University
([email protected])
Word count:  1819 words
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When I noticed this title on the BMCR list of books received, I could
not avoid asking myself, "Does the world really need another English
translation of the Medea?"  As recently as last year David M. Schaps,
the reviewer of BMCR 2008.06.18, announced:  "This is the Medea we have
been waiting for," in reviewing Diane Arnson Svarlien's new translation
of the play.[[1]] We also have several other English translations which
have appeared in the last several years, not to mention the Loeb of
David Kovacs, Euripides:  Cyclops, Alcestis, Medea, from as recently as
1994.

So what does Robin Robertson contribute to this feast of translation?
Certainly not a faithfully literal rendering of the Greek text.  We
find an excellent example of a translation that supplies that
desideratum in David Kovacs' translation.  In fact Robertson
acknowledges Kovacs' edition as "my primary source" (xxii).  In
general, but not in every detail, Robertson's translation relies on the
same Greek text Kovacs uses.  Places where 'Robertson's translation
seems to reflect different textual choices suggest that he has also
made use of Donald J. Mastronarde's Cambridge edition,[[2]] which
appeared in 2002.

But what are we to make of the merits of this new translation?  Above
all it is a more dramatic translation than Kovacs' in every respect,
couched in language which is more vivid and striking than that of
Kovacs.  And because of this I would judge Robertson's translation to
be a much superior acting text to Kovacs'.  The dialogue moves swiftly
and makes an impact on the (imagined) theatrical audience which Kovacs'
scholarly translation does not.  Bold new metaphors in Robertson's
English do not so much translate as mark the text in places where
Euripides' Greek makes a strong impression, but the metaphors are
Robertson's creations, so in a sense Robertson's translation is
"inspired" by the Greek but in no sense a rigorously literal rendering
of the original.  Therefore I would choose Robertson's text to stage
the play, but Kovacs' would be far more useful in a class devoted to
the specifics of Euripidean style and expression.  Some examples will,
I hope, make this clear.

Perhaps the first critical test of the translation occurs at line 20
(p. 6), where Kovacs translates the word <greek>h)timasme/nh</greek> as
"cast aside."  Mastronarde points out (p. 167) that the idea of honor
is a key to Medea's heroic, even man-like, character, which, I would
submit, is key to her extraordinary actions in the play.  Here
Robertson translates "dishonored," highlighting a thematic point by
simply translating literally.  At line 26 the same word appears in the
Greek and Kovacs and Robertson each translate it in the same way they
did above.

Earlier, at line 16 (p. 6) the Greek is <greek>nu=n d' e)xqra\ pa/nta
kai\ nosei= ta\ fi/ltata '</greek>.  Robertson translates "but now this
house is full of hate; its timbers are rotten with it." In Robertson's
rendering Euripides' abstractness is converted to a very concrete and
bold image of a rotting building. The extremely abstract <greek>ta\
fi/ltata</greek> becomes the timbers of the building, which the
audience can imagine concretely. The English is a powerful piece of
dialogue that strikes the imagination, whereas the vagueness of
Euripides' Greek would not make for a striking line if it were
translated literally.  Yet the word "rotten" reflects the connotations
of the original <greek>nosei=</greek>.  It is this strategy of
substitution that marks Robertson's approach and is, I believe, a major
merit of his text.

Again, at lines 44-45 (p. 7) an unfamiliar (to a modern audience)
reference to singing a victory song is replaced by the very plain and
blunt "and none who spark her rage will walk away."  Here the idea of
clashing or dashing together in <greek>sumbalw/n</greek> is reflected
by the substitution "spark her rage."

At line 107 Robertson translates <greek>ne/fos oi)mwgh=s</greek> as
"black clouds of grief," whereas Kovacs translates "cloud of lament."
The latter preserves the synesthesia of the original but lacks the
monosyllabic force of Robertson's rendering.  It is this staccato sound
that makes an impression on the ear.

At 237 the phrase <greek>a)nh/nasqai po/sin</greek> has occasioned some
comment.  Kovacs translates "to refuse wedlock," but Robertson seems to
agree with Mastronarde that it means to refuse intercourse, translating
"we can refuse him nothing."  Robertson translates the preceding lines
as follows: "but if we divorce / we are seen as somehow soiled , as
damaged goods."  This is based on the less vivid language of the Greek:
<greek>ou) ga\r eu)kleei=s a)pallagai\</greek> /
<greek>gunaici\n,</greek> of 236-237.  The original sense seems to be a
dilemma: divorce brings disrepute, but refusal of conjugal rights is
not possible.  Kovacs' interpretation is neater: one cannot refuse to
marry, but divorce is not a real option.

At 258 the phrase <greek>meqormi/sasqai th=sd'...sumfora=s '</greek> is
translated by Robertson as "to shelter me from shame," whereas Kovacs
uses the word "calamity."  Robertson's alliteration is striking and
highlights the disgraceful aspect of Jason's abandonment, which is
foremost in Medea's mind.  Here the substitution of "shame" seems
justified, as it is the shame above all which Medea resents (cf. line
20).

At 465 Kovacs translates <greek>pagka/kiste </greek> as "vilest of
knaves."  Robertson wisely paraphrases: "There are no names for
something / as foul and spineless as you. / A man who is no man at
all." This rendering skillfully incorporates the meaning of the Greek
by totally recasting the form, whereas Kovacs tries to preserve the
form of the Greek: "for that is the only name I can give you, the worst
reproach tongue can frame against unmanly conduct."  The last two words
translate <greek>a)nandri/an </greek>, which Robertson skillfully
renders "a man who is no man at all."  The repetition of the word "man"
echoes the repeated initial syllable in the Greek <greek>a)nandri/an
.</greek>

Robertson frequently demonstrates his skill in effective paraphrase,
creating a vibrant English equivalent to the Greek, rather than a word
for word rendering.  In this sense, Robertson's language is more
suitable to performance, while Kovacs' prose is more serviceable to a
reader who may need help with the Greek.

Again, at 470 Kovacs' translation is perfectly accurate: "to wrong your
loved ones and then look them in the face," but Robertson makes the
line more forcefully sarcastic: "to wrong your family and then visit
them" (emphasis in the original).  Using the word "visit" to render
<greek>e)nanti/on ble/pein </greek> goes beyond the connotation of the
original Greek but captures Medea's sarcasm better than Kovacs' more
literal rendering.  The benevolent connotation of "visit" is what, in
context, creates the irony and sarcasm.

In lines 520-521 a punctuating choral distich is marked by the figure
of polyptoton in <greek>fi/loi filoi=si</greek>.  Kovacs' translation
of this line is flat but very faithful: "Terrible and hard to heal is
the wrath that comes when kin join in conflict with kin."  Robertson
has "There is no anger worse than this / when dearest love has turned
to deepest hate."  The medical connotation of  <greek>dusi/atos
</greek> is lost in Robertson's translation but the rhetorical features
are reflected in the opposition of dearest love/deepest hate.  Moreover
the English couplet scans as iambic tetrameter and pentameter
respectively.  The juxtaposition of love and hate reflects the
juxtaposition of <greek>fi/loi filoi=si</greek>.  Thus, the English of
Robertson preserves the gnomic quality of the Greek without reproducing
the words exactly.

Robertson omits to translate line 782, which Brunck deleted on the
grounds of redundancy given line 1060, whereas Kovacs accepts and
translates the line. Yet Robertson's rendering reflects the omitted
<greek>kaqubri/sai </greek> in his reference to "rabble" in translating
line 781.  One can find other examples of subtleties in this
translation which bespeak a familiarity with more than just the Loeb
edition Robertson acknowledges.

On the negative side of the ledger, at 535 Jason uses the phrase
<greek>w(s e)gw\ fra/sw </greek>, "as I shall make clear" (Kovacs,
299).  Mastronarde points out (261) the almost forensic overtones of
this phrase and cites 522-5 and 548-50 as other examples of
"self-conscious reference to the performance of the argument."  But
this forensic connotation is lost in Robertson's translation, where the
whole self-referential phrase is omitted and the whole line of Greek
becomes simply "but you gained more than you gave" (30).

At 623-26 Medea's parting shot mocking Jason as a lover is elaborated
and cast in colloquial English by Robertson  What is perhaps implicit
in the dismissive imperative <greek>nu/mfeu' '</greek> is made lurid
and slangy in Robertson's rendering: "I can tell you're keen to get
back to the palace / and your hot little playmate.  She'll be waiting
in bed, / I imagine, dying for it / Go play the bridegroom while you
can..." Moreover, Robertson has chosen to add a reference to the
bride's sexual desire in addition to the <greek>po/qos </greek> of
Jason in the Greek original.  One is moved to wonder, "Is this a
mistranslation or merely an "improvement" on the Euripidean original?
By their colloquialism in English these lines stand out from the more
elevated tragic register elsewhere.  However, it might be a good
practice to use English colloquialism to translate only what we can
identify as Greek colloquialism in the original.

Of course, as in the case of any other translation, one can find fault
with Robertson's lack of attention to other aspects of the Greek one
might wish to see reflected, if possible, in English.  For example, the
striking sigmatism of line 476 and the repeated <greek>p</greek> of 478
is not reflected in either Kovacs' or Robertson's translation.  Or
again at 807-8 when Robertson compresses three adjectives in the Greek
(<greek>fau/lhn, a)sqenh=</greek> and <greek>h(suxai/an </greek>) into
the phrase "mild as milk."  At line 53 Robertson translates
<greek>te/knwn o)pade\ pre/sbu </greek> as "old teacher, tired slave of
Jason's children" for no apparent reason.  In a conspicuous lapse at
155 Robertson translates <greek>kaina\ le/xh sebi/zei </greek> as
"thresh [sic] in the bed of desire."

But to give a more complete impression of this translation as a whole
and a taste of its rapid and forceful colloquial language, I submit the
following lines (p. 32), corresponding to lines 579-87 of the Greek
text:

MEDEA
Well, Jason, that's one way of looking at it.
I see things from a different point of view.
An eloquent brute is still a brute.
Someone who defends their evil plausibly
deserves the greatest punishment.
And that goes for you.
You cannot dazzle me with gilded words and fancy rhetoric,
nor can a thousand pretty phrases cover up your crime.
Your arrogance is matched only by your stupidity.
If I pull one thread, the whole thing unravels.
If this marriage is so sensible you could have been honest
and talked it through with me first, won me over.
But no, you kept your grubby secret to yourself.
Have you ever told the truth?

Whatever is lost in this translation -- and a lot of detail is lost --
is compensated for by the eminently speakable and actable nature of the
English Robertson has crafted.


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Notes:


1.   Diane Arnson Svarlien (trans.), Euripides. Medea, with an
introduction and notes by Robin Mitchell-Boyask.   Indianapolis:
Hackett, 2008.

2.   Donald J. Mastronarde (ed. and trans.), Euripides, Medea.
Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2002.