So we worked awhile on a literal translation, and gradually the unique English style we wanted began to emerge. In it were echoes of Urquhart, Aubrey, and Pepys; of Hudibras, Gulliver, and Tristram Shandy. Not to mention Gertrude Stein and T. S. Eliot, because Trans-Atlantyk is essentially a novel of twentieth-century—almost postmodern—sensibility: Nietzschean, Pirandelloesque, ironic, grand and absurd, full of melody and sour notes, hyperbole and pratfalls; in short, to borrow a descriptive phrase from an annual avant-garde arts festival—serious fun.
Throughout our endeavor the guiding principle was never for the sake of consistency or cleverness to impose literary form. So, though in general we stay with the baroque and avoid the nineteenth century, translate a word the same way each time it appears, retain imagery and sound patterns, refrain from clichés unless the author uses one, keep the tone light—sometimes we have to sacrifice one of these principles to make the best translation. After all, a work written over some years is bound to have inconsistencies, changes in style and point of view. Our resolve was to take any risk to let Gombrowicz speak to the reader in his own voice, if not his own language.
We consider our translation experimental. We have devised it in order to bring Trans-Atlantyk to as many English-speaking readers as will bear with it, even like it. We hope that ours will not be the last translation of this unique and important work.
The following glosses of words that appear in the text may be helpful:
Bife
Steak (Spanish)
Bigos
Polish or Lithuanian stew, traditionally served at the end of a hunt. Used figuratively in the sense of “hodgepodge.”
Conies
Rabbits. In England, from the Elizabethan period to the early nineteenth century, it had the secondary meaning of dupes in a confidence game.
Ctvs.
Abbreviated plural of centavo, hundredth part of a peso (Spanish)
Kulig
An old Polish custom whereby, during carnival, a party of ladies and gentlemen in sleighs proceeded from manor to manor, perhaps in pursuit of a curlew (kulig).
Palant
A Polish outdoor game played with a small, hard ball and a bat. The narrator deliberately confuses it with the Basque sport pelota, which was popular in Argentina in the 1940s.
Subhastation
An auction compelled by law. From the Latin meaning “under the spear.”
Note on Pronunciation
Polish names are given in their original spellings. The stress (indicated below by capital letters) is on the penultimate syllable. The Polish Pan, Pani, and Panna correspond to the English Mr., Mrs., and Miss.
Bajbak
BY-back
Bumcik
BOOM-cheek
Cieciszowski
che-chee-SHOF-ski
Ciumkala
choom-KAH-wah
Doktorowa
dock-toh-ROH-vah
Dowalewiczowa
doh-vah-leh-vee-CHO-vah
Fichcik
FEEKH-cheek
Franciszek
fran-CHEE-sheck
Witold Gombrowicz
VEE-told gom-BROH-veetch
Grzegorz
GZHE-gosh
Henryk
HEN-rick
Ignacy
ee-GNAH-tzi
Ignasio
ee-GHAH-shoh
Józef
YOU-zef
Kaczeski
kah-CHESS-key
Kaliściewicz
kah-leesh-CHE-veetch
Kasper
CASS-per
Kielbszowa
kyelp-SHOH-vah
Klejnowa
clay-NOH-vah
Tomasz Kobrzycki
TOH-mash cob-ZHITS-key
Konstanty
con-STAN-ti
Feliks Kosiubidzki
FE-lix koh-shoe-BITS-key
Kotarzycki
coh-tah-ZHITS-key
Kownacka
kov-NATS-kah
Krzywnicki
kshiv-NEETS-key
Kulaski
coo-LAH-ski
Kupucha
coo-POOH-khah
Liposki
lee-POH-ski
Lubek
LOO-beck
Ludka
LOOT-ka
Malgosia
mao-GOH-shah
Mateusz
mah-TEH-oosh
Mazik
MAH-zheek
Mazurkiewicz
mah-zoor-KYEH-veetch
Mickiewicz
meets-KYEH-veetch
Muszka
MOOSH-kah
Myszka
MISH-kah
Pankracy
pan-KRAH-tsi
Pindzel
PINDS-ell
Podsrocki
pot-SROTS-key
Polaski
poh-LAH-ski
Popacki
poh-PATS-key
Pani Pścikowa
PAH-knee pshchi-KOH-vah
Pyckal
PITS-cal
Rembieliński
rem-byeh-LIN-ski
Rotfederowa
rot-feh-deh-ROH-vah
Czestaw Straszewicz
CHESS-wahf strah-SHEH-veetch
Szymon
SHI-mon
Szymuski
shi-MOOSE-key
Panna Tolcia
PAH-nah TOLL-chah
Parma Tuśka
PAH-nah TOOSH-kah
Worola
voh-ROH-lah
Panna Zofia
PAH-nah ZOFF-yah
Zosia
ZOH-shah
Trans-Atlantyk
I feel a need to relate here for Family, kin and friends of mine the beginning of these my adventures, now ten years old, in the Argentinian capital. Not that I ask anyone to have these old Noodles of mine, this Turnip (haply even raw), for in the Pewter bowl Thin, Wretched they are and, what is more, likewise Shaming, in the oil of my Sins, my Shames, these Groats of mine, heavy, Dark with this black kasha of mine—oh, better not to heave it to the Mouth save for eternal Curse, for my Humiliation, on the perennial track of my Life and up that hard, wearisome Mountain of mine.
The twenty-first of August 1939 I was making to land in Buenos Aires on the ship Chrobry. Exquisitely pleasurable the sail from Gdynia to Buenos Aires, and somewhat loathe was I to go ashore, for twenty days a man between Sky and water, nothing remembered, bathed in air, melted in wave, through-blown with wind. Czesław Straszewicz, my companion, shared a cabin with me, viz. the two of us—as Literati (God forgive) scarce fledged—for this first voyage of the new vessel had been invited; besides there were Rembieliński, the Senator, Mazurkiewicz, the Minister, and many other people whose acquaintance I made. Likewise two Misses, pretty, Shapely, Willing, with whom in my spare moments I twaddled and dallied, turned their Heads, and so, I repeat, between Sky and Water, Tranquilly on and on …
Whereupon when we had landed, I, along with Pan Czesław and Rembieliński, the Senator, in the town ourselves immersed, wholly in the dark as in a Horn for none of us had ever set his foot here. The tumult, dust and greyness of the ground jarred unpleasantly after that pure, salt rosary of waves we had been saying on the Water. Albeit having passed Retiro Plaza, where the tower built by the English stands, we came apace to Florida Street and there Luxurious shops, an extraordinary abundance of Goods, merchandise, and the flower of distingué society, Houses of fashion, exceeding big, confiseries. There Rembieliński, the Senator, was looking over purses and I saw a poster on which the word CARAVANAS was written, and say I to Pan Czesław on this bright and Tumultuous day as we were strolling along: “Oooh, Pan Czesław, markye, mark here Caravanas!”*
But anon we needs return to the ship where the Captain was to entertain the Chairmen and Plenipotentiaries of our Polonia here. A large batch of those Chairmen and Plenipotentiaries came, and I anon made enemies, viz. amidst so many new, unknown visages as in a Forest lost, in
ranks and titles lost, people, matters and things confused—vodka now did drink, now did not drink, and walked as if groping about a Field. Likewise His Excellency Minister Kosiubidzki Feliks, our envoy in this country, was honouring the Reception with his presence and, holding a glass, some two hours stood and by so standing now this one, now that one most graciously honoured. In the maelstrom of declarations and discourse, in the lifeless glare of lamps, as through a Telescope I observed it all, and Foreignness, Novelty and Quiddity seeing everywhere, beset by vanity and greyness, my home, my Friends and Comrades I summoned up.
Albeit no matter. Yet something is amiss. Since, lookye, some sort of a hash has been made there, and though empty as in a field at night, there beyond the Forest, beyond the Grange, horror and Hell on Earth, as if something about to happen; but everyone thought all that would wash away, viz. a Great Cloud may give forth a little rain, and ’tis as with a Wench who Wallows, Howls, Groans, with that great Belly, Black, oh, Monstrous as if a Dragon she were to bring forth, but is only gripped by colic; hence no more fear. But something is Amiss, and belike Amiss, oh Amiss. In those last days before the War Broke out I, with Pan Czesław, Rembieliński, the Senator, and Mazurkiewicz, the Minister, were at many Receptions: viz. by His Excellency the Ambassador Kosiubidzki and the Consul, and a certain Marchioness at the Alvear Hotel, and God only knows who and what and where and for what reason, and wherewith and why; but when we were leaving these receptions, in the streets the annoying clamour of newscriers “Polonia, Polonia” would catch our ears. Ergo now ’twas ever the more hard, ever the more tristful, and everyone’s ears droop low, and everyone walks as if Afflicted, stuffed as much with Care as with Delicacies. Whereupon Czesław with a paper bursts into our cabin (as still aboard ship we lived): “The war must break out today, tomorrow—no Remedy! The Captain has ordered that tomorrow our ship is to set sail since, though we cannot make through to Poland now, we will haply to somewhere on England’s, Scotland’s coast.” When he uttered this, we into each other’s arms in Tears did fall and anon to our knees did fall, God’s help invoking and ourselves unto the Lord tendering. And so kneeling say I to Czesław: “Sail, sail you with God.”
Czesław to me: “How so, but you are sailing with us!” Whereupon say I (and purposely have not got up from my knees): “Sail you and harbour safely.” Says he: “What say you? You are not sailing?” Say I: “I would sail to Poland; but wherefore me to England? Wherefore me to England or Scotland? Here I will stay!” Thus I speak mumbling (as the whole truth I could not say) and he gazes and gazes at me. Spake he, very sorrowful now: “You would not with us? You prefer to tarry here? Then get ye to our Legation, Report yourself there so that you’ll not a deserter or perchance something worse be proclaimed. Will you go to the Legation, will you?” I replied: “What think you? Verily I will. I know my duty as a Citizen, for me be not worried. And better not tell anyone; haply I’ll change my Intention and sail with you.” Only then did I get up from my knees as the worst was over now, and good Czesław, good but Sorrowful, still proffered me his cordial friendship (though as if some Secret were between us).
I was loathe to reveal the whole truth to this man, to this Fellow Countryman, or to other Fellow Countrymen, Kinsmen … as I would haply be burnt alive at the stake, pulled apart by horses or tongs, deprived of good fame and credit. But the greatest difficulty of mine was this, that staying on the ship I could not by any means leave it secretly. Hence it was that, keeping a stern watch on myself before others, in the flurry of it all, in the quiver of hearts, in the exclamation of Ardour and Ditties, in the quiet sighs of fear and care, I as if along with the others Shout or Sing or Run or Sigh … but when they are undoing the ropes, when the Ship rattling with people, black with people, Compatriots, is just about to push off, to sail away, I, with the man who has carried my two cases after me, descend the gangway and begin my quitting. Thus I Quit. And I am not looking back. Quitting I am, and know naught of what now may be behind me. Yet I proceed along a gravel Way, and now have come quite far. Only when well Quit I was did I stand and look back and there the Ship has pushed off and is lying on the water, heavy, Squat.
Then would I fain have fallen on my knees! Albeit I did not fall at all, just quietly began to Curse, Damn mightily but only to Myself: “Sail, sail, you Compatriots, to your People! Sail to that holy Nation of yours haply Cursed! Sail to that St. Monster Dark, dying for ages yet unable to die! Sail to your St. Freak, cursed by all Nature, ever being born and still Unborn! Sail, sail, so he will not suffer you to Live or Die but keep you for ever between Being and Non-being. Sail to your St. Slug that she may ever the more Enslime you.” The ship turned aslant now and was moving off so this I likewise say: “Sail to that Madman, to that St. Bedlamite of yours—oh, haply Cursed—so that he may Torment, Torture you by those leaps and frenzies of his, drown you in blood, howl at you and by his Howling howl you out, by Torturing torture you, Children of yours, wives, to Death, to Agony—in agony himself, in the agonies of his Madness Madden you, O’ermadden you!” With this Curse, turning my back on the Ship, I entered the Town.
I had ninety-six dollars in all, the which could suffice at best for two months of the most modest living, so it behooved me to rack my brain anon as to what and how. I thought to go directly to Pan Cieciszowski, whom I had known since the old days because his mother, having been widowed, near Kielce with the Krzywnickis lived, two miles from Cousins of mine, the Szymuskis, to whom sometimes with my brother and sister-in-law I did go, primarily to shoot Ducks. So this Cieciszowski, having been here for a few years, could be of service to me with some counsel and aid. To him at once with my bundles I went, and luckily it happened that I found him at home. ’Twas haply the most curious man I had met in my life, viz. Lean, slight, from a Sickness he had caught in his childhood exceeding Pale; despite all politeness, smoothness, as a Hare in a furrow pricks his ears, catches scent, now hurry-scurry Cries, now Quietens. Upon seeing me he exclaimed: “Whom do I see here!” and hugs, invites me to be seated, puts stools and bids in what way he might serve.
The true and weighty, Blasphemous cause of my remaining I could not reveal to him as, being a Compatriot, he could give me away. So I say only this, viz. that seeing I am cut off from my country, with great Pain, grievance, I have resolved to stay here rather than sail to England or Scotland and be a wanderer. With equal caution he replies that certainly in this need of our Mother’s the good heart of each Son wings unto her; but, says he: “No remedy! I understand your Sorrow, but you can’t jump over the ocean, so I approve of your Resolution or disapprove and well you did to remain here, but perchance you did Not.” This he says, and Twiddles his thumbs. Seeing then that his thumbs he so twiddles, twiddles, I thought, why do you twiddle so; belike I will twiddle at you; and thereupon Twiddle my thumbs at him and say at the same time:
“Is’t your view?”
“I’m not so mad as to have any views These Days or not to have them. But now that you have tarried here, get ye anon to the Legation or do not get ye there and Report your presence there or do not Report, for if you Report your presence or you do not Report it, you may be in great trouble or you may not.”
“Do you believe so?”
“I do believe so or I do not. Do whatever you opine (here he is twiddling his thumbs) or do not opine (and is twiddling his thumbs) as ’tis your affair (again is twiddling his thumbs) whether something Bad will not befall you or Will” (and is twiddling again).
Then I twiddle at him and say: “Is this your counsel?” He is twiddling, twiddling and suddenly springs at me: “Miserable Man, you’d do better to Die, be Lost, quiet, hush, but do not go to them ’cause if they stick to you they will not come unstuck! Take my Counsel, you had better to keep with Foreigners, with them, be lost amidst Foreigners, be Dissolved, but may God save you from the Legation and likewise from the Compatriots for they are Bad, Wicked, Hell-sent, they will only Bite you, bite you to bits!” Whereupon I say: “Think you so?” To this he exclai
med: “God forbid that you shun the Legation or Compatriots living here ’cause if you shun them, you they will Bite, you they will bite to bits!” He is twiddling his thumbs, twiddling, I am twiddling too, and from that twiddling my head is twiddly, but something needs must be done as the purse is empty, so these words I said: “Could I not perchance some employment get in order to survive at least the first months? … Where could I find something?” He embraced me: “Fret not, we will presently take counsel; with the Compatriots I will make you acquainted; they will help you or they will not! There is no want of our moneyed merchants, industrialists, financiers, and somehow wangle you in I will, wangle … or no …” And he is twiddling his thumbs.
Heads together: “Ergo,” he says, “there are three here who have a Partnership in Horses and likewise in Dogs, proffering dividends, and they may help you or may not, may hire you perchance as a clerk or an assistant with the salary of one hundred or one hundred fifty Pesos, as they are the most worthy, the best or not the best people; and they are partnered in a joint Stock company, engaged in Subhastation or not engaged; but there’s the knot: to catch each one separate and separately in Private to him talk for there is from the old Times much Venom, Quarrel, and one is so Loathsome to the other that each is Loathsome with the other and simply Loathes. But the Knot is that one never a step takes from the other. Ergo, I would introduce you to the Baron as he is a generous wight, magnanimous, and he will not refuse you his favour; but what on’t if Pyckal curses you and in Fair Choler abuses you before the Baron, the Baron rebuffs you before Pyckal, becomes sullen, and in a Whim against you lights into Pyckal; and Ciumkala cozens you before the Baron and Pyckal, perchance Besmirches. Ergo, the knot is you to the Baron against Pyckal, to Pyckal against the Baron” (here he is twiddling his thumbs).
Trans-Atlantyk Page 3