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Caws Mary Ann - Selected Poetry and Prose

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Caws Mary Ann Selected Poetry and Prose

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The essential work of Mallarm, collected in a bilingual French and English edition. Selected Poetry and Prose of Stphane Mallarm presents what can be considered the essential work of the renowned father of the Symbolists. Mallarms major elegies, sonnets, and other verse, including excerpts from the dialogue Hriodiade, are all assembled here with the French and English texts en face. Also included (not bilingually) are the visual poem Dice Thrown Never Will Annul Chance and the drama Igitur, as well as letters, essays, and reviews. Although his primary concern was with poetry, the aesthetics of Stphane Mallarm (1842-98) has touched all the arts. During the last twenty years of his life, his Paris apartment was a major literary gathering place. Every Tuesday evening, standing beneath the portrait of himself by his friend Edouard Manet, the poet addressed reverent gatherings which included at various times Paul Valery and...

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THE TRANSLATORS PAUL AUSTER MARY ANN CAWS PETER CAWS BRIAN COFFEY BRADFORD COOK - photo 1

THE TRANSLATORS PAUL AUSTER MARY ANN CAWS PETER CAWS BRIAN COFFEY BRADFORD COOK - photo 2

THE TRANSLATORS

PAUL AUSTER

MARY ANN CAWS

PETER CAWS

BRIAN COFFEY

BRADFORD COOK

CID CORMAN

HUBERT CREEKMORE

ROGER FRY

BARBARA JOHNSON

JAMES LAWLER

GEORGE MOORE

FREDERICK MORGAN

MAURICE Z. SHRODER

PATRICIA TERRY

MARC WIDERSHIEN

Editors Preface

some gesture vehement and lost

Stphane Mallarm, Action Restricted

Selection is already a gesture, and an homage. It is to be hoped that the positive side of this gesture will outweigh its foolhardy nature: to publish any Mallarm in translation is dangerous, as anyone will agree. There is no possible (and readable) way of conveying each of the multiple meanings of the intricately styled verse or the equally intricate (and often more obscure) prose while keeping the forms Mallarm chose. On the other hand, to sacrifice the forms is often inadvisable, since for Mallarm the complexities of poetic form alone compensate for the inevitable imperfection of language. Footnotes explaining even some of the senses, kept or lost, implicit or explicit, would weigh too heavily upon the translated text, for the original is seldom unambiguous and rarely heavy.

Mallarms diversity is probably best served by diverse hands: thus the variety of translators, over a dozen, from the beginning of the century to our contemporaries. I have chosen what seem to me the best versions from a double point of view: exactitude, formal and meaningful, and poetry (a quality both of verse and prose). Some of the renderings have been previously published, while others were undertaken specifically for this volume. Included here are most of the major poems, selections from the letters, essays, and prose poems, and the play-narration Igitur as well as the celebrated visual poem Un Coup d des.

The language is not familiar: Mallarm would have condemned that roundly. He preferred obliqueness, cherished distance in his workcompelled his reader to sense its foreignness. These translations, from those of the Symbolists and Bloomsbury (George Moore and Roger Fry) to those done expressly for this project, have tried to accept that sense, while also making their own. I should like to thank, in particular, for their advice, Robert Greer Cohn, James Laughlin, Patricia Terry, and Micheline Tison-Braun.

This selection can be best described by Mallarms title for one of his major essays, included here. The Action Restricted is at once a major undertaking and a restricted one, voluntarily assumed, in which the vehemence particular to the gesture referred to in the epigraph may be exercised with no worry as to the outcome or the utility. Perhaps, like some Mallarman lace, self-abolishing and yet not completely effaced, the gesture will not be wholly lost. These readings, individually and collectively, add on to others gone before them:

and this

maybe not

too late

tribute to

once Stephane Mallarme

Louis Zukofsky, A

Mary Ann Caws

SALUT

Rien, cette cume, vierge vers

A ne dsigner que la coupe;

Telle loin se noie une troupe

De sirnes mainte lenvers.

Nous naviguons, mes divers

Amis, moi dj sur la poupe

Vous lavant fastueux qui coupe

Le flot de foudres et dhivers;

Une ivresse belle mengage

Sans craindre mme son tangage

De porter debout ce salut

Solitude, rcif, toile

A nimporte ce qui valut

Le blanc souci de notre toile.

SALUTE

Nothing, this spume, virgin verse

Only to point to the cup;

So afar many a troupe

Of sirens drowns in reverse.

We navigate, O my diverse

Friends, me now on the poop

You the sumptuous prow to reap

Lightnings and seasons perverse;

A fine ivresse brings me

Fearless of its very pitch

To bear upright this salute

Solitude, reef, star

To whatever is worth

The white concern of our sheet.

CID CORMAN

Premiers pomes/First Poems
APPARITION

La lune sattristait. Des sraphins en pleurs

Rvant, larchet aux doigts, dans le calme des fleurs

Vaporeuses, tiraient de mourantes violes

De blancs sanglots glissant sur lazur des corolles.

Ctait le jour bni de ton premier baiser.

Ma songerie aimant me martyriser

Senivrait savamment du parfum de tristesse

Que mme sans regret et sans dboire laisse

La cueillaison dun Rve au cur qui la cueilli.

Jerrais done, lil riv sur le pav vieilli

Quand avec du soleil aux cheveux, dans la rue

Et dans le soir, tu mes en riant apparue

Et jai cru voir la fe au chapeau de clart

Qui jadis sur mes beaux sommeils denfant gt

Passait, laissant toujours de ses mains mal fermes

Neiger de blancs bouquets dtoiles parfumes.

APPARITION

The moon was saddening. Seraphim in tears

Dreaming, bow in hand, in the calm of vaporous

Flowers, were drawing from dying violins

White sobs gliding down blue corollas

It was the blessed day of your first kiss.

My dreaming loving to torment me

Was drinking deep of the perfume of sadness

That even without regret and deception is left

By the gathering of a Dream in the heart which has gathered it.

I wandered then, my eyes on the worn pavement

When with the sun in your hair, and in the street

In the evening, you in laughter appeared to me

And I thought I saw the fairy with her cap of brightness

Who once on the beauty-sleeps of my spoilt childhood

Passed, letting always her half-closed hands

Snow down white bouquets of perfumed stars.

ROGER FRY

LE PITRE CHTI

Yeux, lacs avec ma simple ivresse de renatre

Autre que lhistrion qui du geste voquais

Comme plume la suie ignoble des quinquets,

Jai trou dans le mur de toile une fentre.

De ma jambe et des bras limpide nageur tratre,

A bonds multiplis, reniant le mauvais

Hamlet! cest comme si dans londe jinnovais

Mille spulcres pour y vierge disparatre.

Hilare or de cymbale des poings irrit,

Tout coup le soleil frappe la nudit

Qui pure sexhala de ma fracheur de nacre,

Ranee nuit de la peau quand sur moi vous passiez,

Ne sachant pas, ingrat! que ctait tout mon sacre,

Ce fard noy dans leau perfide des glaciers.

THE CLOWN CHASTISED

Eyes, lakes with my simple passion to be reborn

Other than the actor, evoking with gestures

For feather the ugly soot of stage lights,

I have pierced a window in the canvas wall.

Clear traitor swimmer, with my legs and arms

Leaping and bounding, denying the wrong

Hamlet! as if I created in the wave

A thousand tombs in which to virgin disappear.

Joyous gold of the cymbal fists have inflamed,

Suddenly the sun strikes the barrenness pure

Exhaled from my coolness like mother-of-pearl.

Stale night of the skin when you swept over me,

Ungrateful! Ignorant of my whole consecration,

That grease paint drowned in faithless glacier water.

MARY ANN CAWS

Du Parnasse contemporain/From Contemporary Parnassus
LES FENTRES

Las du triste hpital, et de lencens ftide

Qui monte en la blancheur banale des rideaux

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