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jeremyjohn 's review for:
Solaris
by Stanisław Lem
I read the older (Jasiensko/Kilmartin/Cox) Polish-to-French-to-English translation first. I thoroughly enjoyed it as a hard science-fiction piece with some beautiful prose, and then came here only to find out that, according to some readers, it's the inferior version. The better, more faithful and carefully considered translation -- or so they would say -- is the direct translation by Bill Johnston.
I started reading the Johnston version, with high expectations and the older version still fresh in my mind and, well, I very much disagree with the notion that the Johnston version compares favorably with the Jasiensko/Kilmartin/Cox (hereafter 'JKC') version.
To be charitable, possibly there's something about reading the Johnston text in toto that would make me feel differently but I only read a couple of chapters before I was struck by how clunky and corny it was relative to the JKC text.
Then I went hunting for the passages I remembered keenly and did some apples-to-apples comparisons (spoilers ahead):
In the bit of Johnston that I read, there are a couple of word-choices which, to me, betray the hard sci-fi style. Where JKC use "gamma pistol" and "spacecraft", Johnston uses "ray gun" and "spaceship". I imagine I'd find similar examples if I read on.
At least one review here mentions the name changes of major characters in the JKC version, describing that as "rude" compared to the faithful preservation of those names in the Johnston version. I can understand that, but the name changes are quite defensible in the context of an English translation. "Snaut", which I'd be inclined to pronounce like 'snout' or 'snot', became "Snow". "Harey", which I'd pronounce 'Harry' and which is meant to describe a nineteen year old Polish waif, became "Rheya". Sounds good to me.
One point in the Johnston column here: "black woman" is preferable to casual use of the archaic and dehumanizing term "Negress" (although to be fair, a true human she was not). Both versions faithfully, for better or worse, translate the misbegotten notion that the pads of a black woman's toes would in anyway resemble black pearls, meaning that the sole of her foot is as melanated as the upper foot. Tell me you've never seen a black person with their shoes off, Lem, without telling me you've never seen a black person with their shoes off. Here's the relevant passage:
Based on my spot-checking of both versions, I believe the themes are the same and the philosophical and psychological notions expressed in dialogues between Kelvin and Snow are the same, so it comes down to which style of prose you prefer.
I started reading the Johnston version, with high expectations and the older version still fresh in my mind and, well, I very much disagree with the notion that the Johnston version compares favorably with the Jasiensko/Kilmartin/Cox (hereafter 'JKC') version.
To be charitable, possibly there's something about reading the Johnston text in toto that would make me feel differently but I only read a couple of chapters before I was struck by how clunky and corny it was relative to the JKC text.
Then I went hunting for the passages I remembered keenly and did some apples-to-apples comparisons (spoilers ahead):
JKC:
The newspapers of the day, exciting the curiosity of the layman and the anger of the scientist, were full of the most improbable embroideries on the theme of the 'Solaris Mystery,' one reporter going so far as to suggest that the ocean was, no less, a distant relation to our electric eels!
Johnston:
In the newspapers—which in those days, to the delight of their readers and the despair of scientists, reveled in the most indiscriminate conjectures concerning the “enigma of Solaris”—there were claims that the planetary ocean was a distant relative of earth’s electric eel.
---
JKC:
It might have been thought that we knew of an infinite number of examples of the species, whereas in reality there was only the one—weighing, it is true, some seven hundred billion tons.
Johnston:
It was as if we knew goodness knows how many specimens, whereas in reality there was still only one, which admittedly weighted seventeen billion tons.
---
JKC:
"A normal man," he said. "What is a normal man? A man who has never committed a disgraceful act? Maybe, but has he never had uncontrollable thoughts? Perhaps he hasn't. But perhaps something, a phantasm, rose up from somewhere within him, ten or thirty years ago, something which he suppressed and then forgot about, which he doesn't fear since he knows he will never allow it to develop and so lead to any action on his part. And now, suddenly, in broad daylight, he comes across this thing … this thought, embodied, riveted to him, indestructible. He wonders where he is… Do you know where he is?"
"Where?"
"Here," whispered Snow, "on Solaris."
Johnston:
“A normal person,” he said. “What is a normal person? Someone who’s never done anything heinous? Right, but has he never even thought about it? Or maybe he never thought about it, but something inside him thought it, the idea popped into his head, ten or thirty years ago, maybe he fought it off and forgot about it, and he wasn’t afraid, because he knew he’d never carry it out. Right, but now, imagine that suddenly, in broad daylight, among other people, he meets IT embodied, chained to him, indestructible. What then? What do you have then?”
I said nothing.
“The Station,” he said quietly. “Then you have Solaris Station.”
---
JKC:
"What do you mean by imperfect?" Snow frowned. "In a way all the gods of the old religions were imperfect, considering that their attributes were amplified human ones. The God of the Old Testament, for instance, required humble submission and sacrifices, and was jealous of other gods. The Greek gods had fits of sulks and family quarrels, and they were just as imperfect as mortals…"
"No," I interrupted. "I'm not thinking of a god whose imperfection arises out of the candor of his human creators, but one whose imperfection represents his essential characteristic: a god limited in his omniscience and power, fallible, incapable of foreseeing the consequences of his acts, and creating things that lead to horror. He is a … sick god, whose ambitions exceed his powers and who does not realize it at first. A god who has created clocks, but not the time they measure. He has created systems or mechanisms that served specific ends but have now overstepped and betrayed them. And he has created eternity, which was to have measured his power, and which measures his unending defeat."
Johnston:
“Defective?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows. “How do you mean? In a certain sense the god of every religion was defective, because he was encumbered with human qualities, only magnified. The God of the Old Testament, for instance, was a hothead who craved servility and was jealous of other gods. . . the Greek gods had just as many human imperfections, with their quarrelsomeness and their family squabbles—”
“No,” I interrupted him, “I mean a God whose deficiencies don’t arise from the simplemindedness of his human creators, but constitute his most essential, immanent character. This would be a God limited in his omniscience and omnipotence, one who can make mistakes in foreseeing the future of his works, who can find himself horrified by the course of events he has set in motion. This is. . . a cripple God, who always desires more than he’s able to have, and doesn’t always realize this to begin with. Who has built clocks, but not the time that they measure. Has built systems or mechanisms that serve particular purposes, but they too have outgrown these purposes and betrayed them. And has created an infinity that, from being the measure of the power he was supposed to have, turned into the measure of his boundless failure.”
In the bit of Johnston that I read, there are a couple of word-choices which, to me, betray the hard sci-fi style. Where JKC use "gamma pistol" and "spacecraft", Johnston uses "ray gun" and "spaceship". I imagine I'd find similar examples if I read on.
At least one review here mentions the name changes of major characters in the JKC version, describing that as "rude" compared to the faithful preservation of those names in the Johnston version. I can understand that, but the name changes are quite defensible in the context of an English translation. "Snaut", which I'd be inclined to pronounce like 'snout' or 'snot', became "Snow". "Harey", which I'd pronounce 'Harry' and which is meant to describe a nineteen year old Polish waif, became "Rheya". Sounds good to me.
One point in the Johnston column here: "black woman" is preferable to casual use of the archaic and dehumanizing term "Negress" (although to be fair, a true human she was not). Both versions faithfully, for better or worse, translate the misbegotten notion that the pads of a black woman's toes would in anyway resemble black pearls, meaning that the sole of her foot is as melanated as the upper foot. Tell me you've never seen a black person with their shoes off, Lem, without telling me you've never seen a black person with their shoes off. Here's the relevant passage:
JKC:
As I let the canvas fall, I noticed, peeping out from beneath the folds at the foot, five round, shiny objects, like black pearls, ranged in order of size. I stiffened with horror.
What I had seen were the round pads of five bare toes. Under the shroud, flattened against Gibarian's body, lay the Negress.
Johnston:
As I lowered the edge of the cloth, I noticed that on the far side of the body some elongated black beads or beans, arranged from smallest to largest, were poking out from under the folds. All at once I was petrified.
It was the toes of bare feet seen from underneath. The oval pads protruded somewhat. Beneath the crumpled edge of the shroud, pressed flat against the pallet, lay the black woman.
Based on my spot-checking of both versions, I believe the themes are the same and the philosophical and psychological notions expressed in dialogues between Kelvin and Snow are the same, so it comes down to which style of prose you prefer.