{"id":290586,"date":"2012-05-29T15:30:00","date_gmt":"2012-05-29T15:30:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.wdev.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent-dev\/2012\/05\/29\/the-walk\/"},"modified":"2018-04-16T16:04:28","modified_gmt":"2018-04-16T16:04:28","slug":"the-walk","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/2012\/05\/29\/the-walk\/","title":{"rendered":"The Walk"},"content":{"rendered":"

For the narrator of Robert Walser\u2019s The Walk<\/em>, walking is the better part of writing. Shortly before declaring his arrival at \u201csomething like the peak\u201d of this 90-page Pearl from New Directions (translated by Christopher Middleton and Susan Bernofsky\u2014more on that in a second), Walser\u2019s narrator delivers a brilliant defense of the writer\u2019s habit of walking, which looks to too many observers like idleness but is, he declares, a vital part of his technique. \u201cDo you realize that I am working obstinately and tenaciously with my brain,\u201d he explains to a tax collector, \u201cwhen I present the appearance of a simultaneously heedless and out-of-work, negligent, dreamy, idle pickpocket, lost out in the blue . . . ?\u201d He goes on\u2014and on; Walser did not write dialogue. His characters declaim, often through bizarre turns:<\/p>\n

\n

Mysterious there prowl at the walker\u2019s heels all kinds of thoughts and notions, such as make him stand in his ardent and regardless tracks and listen, because, again and again confused by curious impressions, by spirit power, he suddenly has the bewitching feeling that he is sinking into the earth, for an abyss has opened before the dazzled, bewildered eyes of the thinker and poet. His head wants to fall off. His otherwise so lively arms and \tlegs are as benumbed. Countryside and people, sounds and colors, faces and farms, clouds and sunlight swirl all around him like diagrams; he asks himself: \u2018Where am I?\u2019<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Elsewhere in the speech the narrator lays out the argument that walking is his way to observe, experience the world, gather \u201creports\u201d and scenes which will serve as fodder for his other occupation. The above paragraph is a good example of the rhetorical gusto that is frequent in Walser\u2019s work, usually in the service of irony. In a preface, Bernofsky describes the \u201cstraight-faced and earnest\u201d quality of this and other works of the later-period Walser, as a contrast to the \u201cthickly layered ironies of the Berlin period that preceded it;\u201d in The Walk<\/em>, such bravado is actually part of the narrator\u2019s personal conflict. Early in the story he declares, \u201cOn account of this haughty bearing, this domineering attitude, I shall soon, as will be learned, have to take myself to task.\u201d But, despite his verbose and aggrandized tone, the writer and walker narrating The Walk<\/em> is, the reader feels, sincere in his belief that one cannot write if one does not walk, and that the writing justifies the walking.<\/p>\n

Unfortunately, a writer cannot be writing while he is walking, and vice versa. When he wants to take a break, to stop writing, what does he do? \u201cRelax in brief respite,\u201d says the narrator. \u201cWriters who understand their profession at least a little take the same as easily as possible. From time to time they like to lay their pens aside a while.\u201d The novel begins at the start of his walk: \u201cI put my hat on my head, left my writing room, or room of phantoms, and ran down the stairs to hurry out into the street.\u201d Writing and walking, however codependent, are to some extent irreconcilable pursuits. And one may have one\u2019s preference: our narrator \u201cloves to walk as well as he loves to write; the latter of course perhaps just a shade less than the former.\u201d (The pun on \u201cshade,\u201d intended or not, seems to wink at the reader by alluding to the \u201cphantoms\u201d of the writing room. Whether or not a similar pun occurs here in the German I cannot say, but that need not matter for my enjoyment of it in the English I am reading. More, again, on this, in a moment.)<\/p>\n

It\u2019s time to say a bit more about Bernofsky\u2019s preface, because most of what I focused on in my reading are themes to which she explicitly directs attention. She describes the unusual history of the book: Der Spaziergang<\/em> was first published in 1917, but Walser revised and published it again a few years later. In 1955, Christopher Middleton translated the first version into English, unaware that a revised version existed. For the present edition, Bernofsky updated Middleton\u2019s translation (\u201can English text I . . . greatly admire,\u201d she calls it) according to Walser\u2019s own revisions, which were significant at the level of sentence, but minor in terms of plot and theme. Bernofsky\u2019s intention is \u201cto give the English-language reader the opportunity to peer over Walser\u2019s shoulder as he revises himself.\u201d <\/p>\n

In his revisions, Bernofsky suggests, Walser \u201cminimiz[ed] the divide between the writing protagonist and the walking protagonist.\u201d But the divide remains, at least at the beginning, and throughout the novel, though the two personalities merge, a metaphysical struggle persists between them. The two roles are introduced separately in the opening pages, as the narrator refers to himself in the third person as first one\u2014\u201cWith a kind face, a bicycling town chemist cycles close by the walker\u201d; and then the other\u2014\u201cThe writer is nonetheless very humbly asked to be a bit careful to avoid jokes as well as other superfluousnesses.\u201d (Happily, as the latter example shows, Walser didn\u2019t leave all of his thickly layered ironies behind when he left Berlin. The Walk<\/em> might be read, I think, as a tragicomedy of the tension between irony and sincerity as played out by the contenders, walker and writer.)<\/p>\n

The walker and writer, being phases of the one narrator, exist in separate narrative times: the writer is presumably recording the experience of the walk only after having completed it. Gradually, the two activities become indistinguishable, occurring simultaneously: when he declares \u201cI have two or three important commissions to execute, as well as several utterly insuperable arrangements to make,\u201d is he referring to the errands of the walk, or the writing tasks presently before his pen? At another point, \u201cwith a bound I enter the charming situation in question,\u201d it is not clear whether the bound is literally an energetic step or metaphorically setting out to describe the scene. <\/p>\n

Would I have noticed and paid so much attention to these distinctions had I skipped the preface? Perhaps not. A preface or introduction offers context for the work about to be presented, which may or may not be helpful. My enjoyment of the book was no less for having read Bernofsky\u2019s preface, my grasp of the philosophical and emotional complexity of the narrator no more certain (The Walk<\/em> is, to be sure, a difficult book, for all of its 90 pages). But\u2014less enjoyable, more certain, than what? I only read the novel and its preface in the one order. I leave it to the reader to decide whether or not to save the preface till afterwards. But I will also warn the reader that in detailing some of Walser\u2019s revisions, Bernofksy spoils the ending of the book, the power of which is partly (not entirely) thanks to a delayed reveal. The spoiler doesn\u2019t ruin the experience\u2014I still read the book twice in one weekend, to my increasing pleasure and puzzlement\u2014but it might have been omitted, or the Preface relocated to an Afterword.<\/p>\n

There\u2019s more to be said about this book as a translation and as a novel. Concerning the latter, Walser\u2019s humor is unrelenting, which makes the inward-turning ending all the more poignantly sad. Among the narrator\u2019s hilarious apostrophes to dogs, or to no one in particular concerning the heavenliness of children, there\u2019s a weird scene in which the narrator is threatened with force-feeding by a matronly Frau Aebi. That this turns out to be Frau Aebi\u2019s joke is, to me, actually more disturbing than the forcefeeding itself would have been, which reinforces my sense that Walser is deliberately experimenting with irony and sincerity.<\/p>\n

As a translation, this may become an important book for the unusual case which the text presents. Depending on its reception by critics better qualified than I, perhaps it will help to advance or complicate the ongoing debate concerning reading and review practices for translated works. On May 3, Bernofsky contributed to a panel discussion on the very subject in the PEN<\/span> World Voices Festival, in which she expressed her opinion that translations ought to be judged according to their success as a piece of writing in the target language, to an extent independent of the original. Her respect for Middleton\u2019s text of The Walk<\/em>, without which one imagines she would have retranslated the work entirely on her own, further demonstrates her position.<\/p>\n

Lorin Stein, a translator and editor of the Paris Review, was also on the panel at PEN<\/span>. He took the very different view that translators ought to be less visible and \u201cminimize the damage\u201d to the original which all translation must necessarily cause, perhaps in that it strips from the work its original sound. Stein also posited that translation adds an apparatus to a work, which publishers, editors, and translators ought to minimize (for instance, Stein insists on not printing his own name on the jacket of his published translations) in order to deliver the work and its author unadorned to the reader. Bernofsky\u2019s preface, including the revision and translation history of The Walk<\/em>, is an elaborate and complicated apparatus to be sure. But, to reiterate, the jury is out as to whether I think it enriched or detracted from my experience of the book. I\u2019ve had one experience of The Walk<\/em> for which I am very glad. Other readers will, I hope, have theirs.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For the narrator of Robert Walser\u2019s The Walk, walking is the better part of writing. Shortly before declaring his arrival at \u201csomething like the peak\u201d of this 90-page Pearl from New Directions (translated by Christopher Middleton and Susan Bernofsky\u2014more on that in a second), Walser\u2019s narrator delivers a brilliant defense of the writer\u2019s habit of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":292,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[67486],"tags":[39406,5706,56,12746,1646,47136,23836,25766],"class_list":["post-290586","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-articles","tag-christopher-middleton","tag-german-literature","tag-new-directions","tag-phillip-witte","tag-review","tag-rober-walser","tag-susan-bernofsky","tag-swiss-literature"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/290586","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/292"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=290586"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/290586\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":319176,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/290586\/revisions\/319176"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=290586"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=290586"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.rochester.edu\/College\/translation\/threepercent\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=290586"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}