The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Edgar Allan Poe [1154]
The distinction I have made between mere idioms (which, of course, should never be literally rendered) and “local idiosyncrasies of phrase,” may be exemplified by a passage at page 291 of Mr. Town’s translation:
Never mind! Go in there! You will take the cloak of Calebasse. You will wrap yourself in it, etc., etc.
These are the words of a lover to his mistress, and are meant kindly, although imperatively. They embody a local peculiarity — a French peculiarity of phrase, and (to French ears) convey nothing dictatorial. To our own, nevertheless, they sound like the command of a military officer to his subordinate, and thus produce an effect quite different from that intended. The translation, in such case, should be a bold paraphrase. For example: — “I must insist upon your wrapping yourself in the cloak of Calebasse.”
Mr. Town’s version of “The Mysteries of Paris,” however, is not objectionable on the score of excessive literality alone, but abounds in misapprehensions of the author’s meaning. One of the strangest errors occurs at page 368, where we read:
“From a wicked, brutal savage and riotous rascal, he has made me a kind of honest man by saying only two words to me; but these words, ‘voyez vous,’ were like magic.”
Here “voyez vous” are made to be the two magical words spoken; but the translation should run — “these words, do you see? were like magic.” The actual words described as producing the magical effect are “heart” and “honor.”
Of similar character is a curious mistake at page 245.
“He is a gueux fini and an attack will not save him,” added Nicholas. “A — yes,” said the widow.
Many readers of Mr. Town’s translation have no doubt been puzzled to perceive the force or relevancy of the widow’s “A — yes” in this case. I have not the original before me, but take it for granted that it runs thus, or nearly so: — “ll est un gueux fini et un assaut ne l’intimidera pas.” “Un — oui! “ dit la veuve.
It must be observed that, in vivacious French colloquy, the oui seldom implies assent to the letter, but generally to the spirit, of a proposition. Thus a Frenchman usually says “yes” where an Englishman would say “no.” The latter’s reply, for example, to the sentence “An attack will not intimidate him,” would be “No” — that is to say, “I grant you that it would not.” The Frenchman, however, answers “Yes” — meaning, “I agree with what you say — it would not.” Both replies, of course, reaching the same point, although by opposite routes. With this understanding, it will be seen that the true version of the widow’s “Un — oui ” should be, “One attack, I grant you, might not,” and that this is the version becomes apparent when we read the words immediately following — “but every day — every day it is hell!”
An instance of another class of even more