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A review by ericderoulet
The Lantern and the Night Moths by Yilin Wang
5.0
In The Lantern and the Night Moths, Yilin Wang has given poetry enthusiasts much to appreciate and a lot of important takeaways for those of us who are still familiarizing ourselves with poetry and the particular challenges of literary translation. While I'm an occasional, irregular reader of poetry, I've spent enough time learning other languages, teaching English as a second language, and reading about modern Chinese history to appreciate the work Wang has put into both her translations of these works and her commentaries on them. While there were a few cases in which I was surprised by Wang's translation/writing decisions, these decisions are justified through a clear ethos with respect to literary translation and are firmly grounded in Wang's lived experiences as a member of the Chinese diaspora.
The Lantern and the Night Moths consists of collected works from five different modern Chinese poets, followed by Wang's commentaries and footnotes. What follows are my general impressions of Wang's curation and translation of each body of work:
Qiu Jin 秋瑾 (1875-1907): I can see why Wang started with Qiu Jin's work. Not only is Qiu Jin considerably less well known than her contemporaries, but she has a fascinating personal history as a revolutionary figure (and gender nonconformist) in the end days of China's last dynasty. Wang's personal connection with Qiu Jin's life and work is also abundantly clear. Overall, this section was a delight to read.
Zhang Qiaohui 张巧慧 (1978-): Out of the five sub-collections here, I found Zhang's works to be the most evocative, at least in translation. The poems exhibited here are given plenty of substance through particular cultural references, and the themes are timeless and poignant. There's a lot in here about the grief and growing pains of being forced to move from one life to another, whether through immigrant experiences or through being swept up in tumultuous changes in the world around you.
Fei Ming 废名 (1901-1967): Wang characterizes Fei Ming's work as particularly esoteric; I agree. Even being familiar with some of the bits of Chinese philosophy and culture referenced in these works, I found them rather opaque. A reader with a stronger background in poetry (and particulars of Chinese culture) will get more out of this set of works.
Xiao Xi 小西 (1974-): I honestly found the poems-in-translation here a little lackluster, yet Wang's reflections on the experience and process of translating these works gave me lots to chew on and should be essential reading for those interested in literary/artistic translation. Sometimes particular connotations and culture-specific emotional experiences really can't be transferred smoothly into another language, and Wang is upfront about the challenges present in working with these poems.
Dai Wangshu 戴望舒 (1905-1950): Putting Dai Wangshu's works after Xiao Xi's is a thoughtful choice on Wang's part, as Wang explains how Dai, a scholar and translator himself, spent some time refuting the notion that poetry is untranslatable. Personally, I'm fond of any writing that opens me up to one set of conclusions and then compels me to question those some conclusions later. Wang's commentary on Dai's work elevates the intellectual richness of this book.
The Lantern and the Night Moths consists of collected works from five different modern Chinese poets, followed by Wang's commentaries and footnotes. What follows are my general impressions of Wang's curation and translation of each body of work:
Qiu Jin 秋瑾 (1875-1907): I can see why Wang started with Qiu Jin's work. Not only is Qiu Jin considerably less well known than her contemporaries, but she has a fascinating personal history as a revolutionary figure (and gender nonconformist) in the end days of China's last dynasty. Wang's personal connection with Qiu Jin's life and work is also abundantly clear. Overall, this section was a delight to read.
Zhang Qiaohui 张巧慧 (1978-): Out of the five sub-collections here, I found Zhang's works to be the most evocative, at least in translation. The poems exhibited here are given plenty of substance through particular cultural references, and the themes are timeless and poignant. There's a lot in here about the grief and growing pains of being forced to move from one life to another, whether through immigrant experiences or through being swept up in tumultuous changes in the world around you.
Fei Ming 废名 (1901-1967): Wang characterizes Fei Ming's work as particularly esoteric; I agree. Even being familiar with some of the bits of Chinese philosophy and culture referenced in these works, I found them rather opaque. A reader with a stronger background in poetry (and particulars of Chinese culture) will get more out of this set of works.
Xiao Xi 小西 (1974-): I honestly found the poems-in-translation here a little lackluster, yet Wang's reflections on the experience and process of translating these works gave me lots to chew on and should be essential reading for those interested in literary/artistic translation. Sometimes particular connotations and culture-specific emotional experiences really can't be transferred smoothly into another language, and Wang is upfront about the challenges present in working with these poems.
Dai Wangshu 戴望舒 (1905-1950): Putting Dai Wangshu's works after Xiao Xi's is a thoughtful choice on Wang's part, as Wang explains how Dai, a scholar and translator himself, spent some time refuting the notion that poetry is untranslatable. Personally, I'm fond of any writing that opens me up to one set of conclusions and then compels me to question those some conclusions later. Wang's commentary on Dai's work elevates the intellectual richness of this book.