'World literature' -- what is that? It seems to mean, literature produced around the world. Apparently, universities have decided that this is somehow an original concept. Still, if anthologies such as this introduce poetry lovers to the broader spectrum of verse (albeit in the lingua franca of English), then the editors have done their job. It is only to our betterment that a thousand flowers bloom -- and indeed so much is what is gathered here.
But an anthology based on such a massive premise is bound to exceed its grasp. Culling top poetry from the four corners is a worthy challenge -- but the price of expanse is depth. What procedures were in place to decide who represents a 'Central American' author? Why were they selected, and others left out? Specialists of the region may certainly quibble about choices -- but the editors give us no clues as to what determined their choices.
Some of the choices, in fact, are bizarre. An American expat who lives in Japan is filed under 'Japanese' poetry. Huh? And many selections are guided by certain . . . well, I won't call them prejudices . . . but it's pretty apparent that poetry selections were based on which authors are receiving the most airplay right now. Ko Un, for example. Darwish. Tamada Chimako. No doubt, all three are excellent poets -- and the translations are decent. And these poets are very popular in their home language -- but they do provide certain thematic realities (sex, Buddhism, colonialism) that fit nicely into certain expectations of North American audiences.
See, the problem with these anthologies is that they become museums of stones: nice poems, translated, put on pedestals, with the headlamp glowing above. But no context is provided: no cultural explanations, or historical explorations -- no annotations or explanations which would deepen our appreciation of the sociohistorical conditions these poems are working in.
Instead, we get 20 pages -- TWENTY! -- or biographies for the translators! Absurd. Do I really care what minor poetry prize one translator garnered, or how some other translator got a big grant to live in Amsterdam for a year? Please, set your egos aside. Twenty pages of annotations, helping the reader to see these poems as more than exercises in translation, would have been most welcome. The headshots for the editors (three pages of biography just for the editors!) was a bit absurd. Clearly, this is more about the translator, than it is the translatee. It's sad, but it's all about the labels and reputations.
Why, for example, do original language versions accompany Tada Chimako's verse, but not other Japanese poets. Is it because they're 'haiku' we need the original? Why not provide some original content for all poets? I wouldn't have minded sacrificing some of the trendier choices if it meant more depthful encounters with poets like Tada.
I truly think the new trend has to be not just translation, but explication -- as chancey as that is. But I'd like more information on Ko Un's political protests and anti-dictatorship work than details about how many magazines his translator (who no one really cares about) has appeared in. Don't strip off the context: render it into the target tongue, but please keep some of the habitat intact.
Still, and for those not experiencing kneejerk anger at this point, I repeat: if this anthology gets an undergrad to read some Malaysian verse, well -- congrats to the editors.
"Lucky are you who find me in the wilderness;
I am the only unquiet ghost who does not seek rest . . . .
I'll remember your song but I'll forget your name."