Za "Time" from Italy
A book by English poet Whistan Hugh Auden will soon be published for the first time Lectures on Shakespeare, published by the Official Gazette. The book is also being translated Versailles in 1919, by historian Margaret McMillan, about the six-month peace conference in Paris that will reshape the map of the world until then. The translator of both books is Aleksandar V. Stefanović, connoisseur of five foreign languages, lawyer, philologist, publisher of international reputation and promoter of Serbian art in the world.
He was born in Niš in 1926 in a bourgeois family, in a comfortable and spacious neoclassical house with a large garden, near the river Nišava. He now lives in Milan, as an independent translator. In the meantime, he graduated from the Faculty of Law and Philology in Belgrade, served in World War II, became a translator, left Yugoslavia in 1968 and moved to Italy, where he was director of international relations in publishing houses in Milan, Florence, Lucerne and New York. , a consultant at the publishing house Jaca Book from Milan, has translated about a hundred titles in the field of professional literature and fine literature into Serbian. He is a friend of Miloš Crnjanski, Marko Ristić, Danil Kiš, Vasko Popa, Miodrag Pavlović, Ivan Lalić, Radovan Samardžić, Predrag Palavestra, Dragan Jeremic, Petar Džadzić, Radomir Konstantinović, Sveta Lukić, Lawrence Darrell, Robert Kalas, Serđo Romano, Klaudij Magris, Charles Simić, Predrag Matvejević and many others.
We talked in Alexander's apartment, full of books, paintings and family photos. With a silver-white beard and a melancholic look, a bit like Hemingway, Alexander is in his favorite armchair, opposite an antique writing desk, on which stands the book he is translating - by hand. In my opinion, Aleksandar V. Stefanović is the second great Nišlija in Milan: the first is the one whose monument stands in front of the Church of St. Lawrence - Roman Emperor Constantine the Great.
"WEATHER": Does translating keep you fit?, do you want to leave behind only excellent translations?
ALEXANDER V. STEFANOVIC: To me, translation is a matter of life, because it keeps me in shape that helps me survive these difficult times that are no longer pleasant for anyone. Translating helps me not to lose my memory and to keep my spirit alive and present. I work with the language I learned in my time, but I don't know if it is the most modern, that's what some critics say. Whether I will leave behind excellent translations is for others to judge. I try to be a good translator, but a lot depends on what fate brings me to translate. And I had the opportunity to translate very good writers: Leopardi, Auden, Eliot, Selin, Eco, Deleda, Hemingway...
You spent the first seven years in Niš. Was the love for languages born in that period??
My first teacher was an unusual person, Miss Grosser, an Englishwoman, who taught children from those circles at the Russian court. During the revolution, she escaped to Bulgaria, and from there came to Nis. I was lucky to learn English from a young age, with a very original teacher. I never learned it after that, because it came so easily to me, like something completely normal. Later, I worked with Kenneth and Pamela Sears at the British Counsel, together with Ksenija Atanasijević, to improve my English for several years.
Then you moved to Belgrade with your older brother Ljubomir and lived in the boarding school of the French Jesuit Lyceum "Saint Joseph".
My father sent us to that school, where the French Jesuits took us in and where I stayed until the war started. The Jesuits were strict, but not in an obnoxious way, but in an educational way. For every mistake we were punished by rote learning: for example, fifty lines of Racine or Lafontaine. If you dared to rebel, the teacher would increase the punishment to one hundred lines. Even today I know them by heart, I forget things from yesterday, but not that. We also knew the prayers by heart, saying them six times a day. To this day, I can pronounce it faster than the French Father's Day.
In high school, we studied French grammar and reading, mathematics. At the same time, we had teachers in the Serbian language, we also studied our literature. Every year, an eminent Frenchman came to visit the school: once it was Franche d'Epère, the commander on the Thessaloniki front and a great friend of the Serbs; he came in a blue marshal's uniform, I remember him very well. The Jesuits did not impose their religious commitment on us, their church and ours were equally respected, and they were such Catholics! I remember, when we were taken to the public cinema, the friar supervisor would say with a smile: "When it gets 'hot' and you close your eyes!"
French is almost like my mother tongue and no one can take France out of my heart, and that is thanks to the Jesuits. I had no trouble learning either English or French because they came to me as if sent by God. Later, I simultaneously attended the Second Belgrade High School, from where I would return to the French boarding school in the evening. The high school professors were the ones who had their books, I had the privilege of being surrounded by teaching staff who were sine qua non. Despite the fact that I do not complain about my intelligence, I am still an ordinary person who had the opportunity to be well educated.
Do you remember the first book you read??
Of course, it was Chekhov's Chestnut and I was seven years old. I inherited a part of my grandfather's large library, especially the editions of the Serbian Literary Association, from before the First World War (grandfather Ananija Stefanović was the district chief in Novi Pazar and during the liberation from the Turks he negotiated with them the surrender of the city). Later, my father bought me and my brother a lot of books because we both liked to read: Cooper's A leather sock, Birger's Baron Munchausen, Swift Gulliver's Travels...
The Second World War found you in Belgrade, and when it ended you were only 18 years old. You were very lucky to get out of the whirlwind of war alive.
I survived the war by a miracle: my division did not go towards Srem but towards Kosovo, through Kosovska Mitrovica and Pristina towards Raška and Novi Pazar, gradually liberating them. I was fortunate in the accident that I was wounded on December 14, 1944. I did not see any major battles because I ended up in the hospital, while my division moved across Lim to Srem, and hardly anyone came back alive from there. Being wounded kept me alive, which is a paradox. I recovered at home, after three months I was returned to the army and transferred to the Sixth Lika Division, as a scribe. In the summer of 1945, I was demobilized, and that's when I passed my high school graduation in Belgrade, at a school that was interrupted by the war.
You graduated at the Faculty of Law and then at the Faculty of Philology in the group for English language and literature. At the same time, you were at the Music Academy in the flute department, with professor Srejović. Where did you get a job after your studies??
First, I was an English language teacher for Slavka Ranković and her son Slobodan, and from 1947 to 1948 I worked in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs as an English language teacher for those who were going to the diplomatic service. I also worked in the Protocol of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs at the time when Pavle Beljanski was assistant to the head of protocol Slaven Smodlaka. I remember Mr. Pavle so vividly and fondly, as if I can see him even now: he was the most beautiful and elegant man I have ever met! How wonderfully the diplomatic uniform fit him! We often went to "Dva Jelena" for lunch. On one occasion, I said to him, as a joke: "How about we sell one painting from your collection and go to Paris to have a little fun?" He frowned at that: "What are you talking about, Alexander?" For him that gallery was sacred, something no one should touch. I was so ashamed that I avoided meeting him for days afterwards.
HANDWORK: Part of Aleksandar Stefanović's translation oeuvre...
How did it come about that you left the Ministry of Foreign Affairs? and gained in publishing?
I was not a member of the Communist Party and I saw that my past and my belonging to the bourgeois class did not suit the new government. I felt that I would not be able to make a career there and resigned. I was determined by hanging out with young writers. My career related to literature began when I received an offer from Dragan Jeremic to become the secretary of the magazine "Savremenik". At that time, we shared the same premises with the editorial office of "Književni novina" and all the most advanced and interesting young hopes of our literature passed there. My colleagues were Predrag Palavestra, Duško Puvačić, Bogdan Popović, Tasa Mladenović, Petar Džadžić, as well as Vasko Popa and Mija Pavlović, who were my close friends.
Is your older brother Ljubomir, who was also engaged in publishing, first in Yugoslavia and then in Italy, Switzerland and Germany, influenced your professional choice?
No, it's not. Ljuba first worked in the publishing house "Yugoslavija" as deputy director of Wanda Novosel. Later he came to me in Florence and started working for Giunti, then for Sansoni International. He edited many books for the world's most prominent publishing houses. The biggest publishing success, which made him famous in the world, was the publication of 999 copies Codex Atlanticus Leonardo da Vinci in 12 volumes, with a starting price of $10.000 per volume.
Which authors did you translate in Belgrade?? What was the position of the translator then and what was the cooperation with the publishers?
The position of translator was highly valued and well paid, and the cooperation with publishers was excellent. The first books I translated were titles for children, published by Prosveta: for example, Peter Pan Matthew Barry. At the same time, I was the secretary and editor of "Savremenika", and I also collaborated with the literary magazine "Danas", where Rade Konstantinović, Bora Ćosić, Dušan Makavejev and Žika Pavlović figured. It was fantastic company! Unfortunately, the fashion show was discontinued after two and a half years of exhibition because it was too "revolutionary".
You were lucky enough to meet Ivo Andrić, Danila Kiša, Miloš Crnjanski...
In 1961, Ivan Lalić and I traveled with Ivo Andrić to the awarding of the Nobel Prize in Stockholm. We didn't have tailcoats with us, so Ambassador Jovo Kapičić suggested to us: "There is a store near here called 'Joy and Sorrow', there you will find tailcoats." the elite, the king and queen, the entire royal household... Ingmar Bergman was also there, with whom I later did an interview. It was more difficult with Andrić, he was a pleasant but also very reserved person, so he did not give an interview to anyone on that occasion.
I met Danilo Kish later, when he lived in Paris. I contributed a lot to his books being translated in Italy, and they were published by the publishing house Adelphi, owned by my writer friend Roberto Callas.
Miloš Crnjanski was a volcanic character over whom the curse of emigration was poured. He returned to Yugoslavia in 1966 and I had a special relationship with him. For a short time I worked on editing his manuscript Among the Hyperboreans: I should have brought his punctuation closer to our modern understanding. I consider that a mistake of our editorial staff, we should not have touched it at all. Later, everything was returned to its original state. At first, Crnjanski was a "Savremenik" writer, we welcomed him. Tasa Mladenović, then director of "Književni novini", was a big supporter of Crnjanski returning to the country. At that time, he was preparing for the press for Prosveta A novel about London, I heard it from him in an oral version. In the company of his wife Vida, he visited me several times in Milan and in Florence in the seventies. In Tuscany, we visited Fiesole, the place where some of his stories began; I hosted them in a wonderful house, surrounded by a beautiful garden, which the publishing house Sansoni gave me to use.
You translated and published Kennedy's biography before he became US president.
Yes, I published it in a private, independent publication. Some of our people resented it, but the Americans looked at it with sympathy, as something interesting. During those years, I also translated Hemingway's novel A movable holiday. At that time we were good friends with the Republicans. When US Vice President Adlai Stevenson came to Belgrade, a dinner was held in his honor, at which I was also present. On that occasion, Stevenson asked me: "And when was the last time you were in America?" And I said to him: "I have never been there in my life." He was very surprised at that and told the ambassador's advisor: "Send this man to America." And so, as a Fulbright scholar, I got a six-month stay in America, visiting the most important universities where there was a chair for the Serbo-Croatian language, where I would give a few lectures about our literature.
And speaking of political biographies, I hired Fitzroy McClain to write a biography of Tito, which was published in 1980 by McGraw-Hill. The book was later published in ten languages, at that time there was great interest in Tito's personality.
What memories do you have of Great Britain??
I am connected to the wonderful days in Oxford, more precisely to the faculty of "St. Anthony", where I had the opportunity to meet, what a curiosity, the Russian revolutionary leader Alexander Kerensky. And in Edinburgh, John Calder organized a conference of world writers, so in 1963 and 1964 I went there in the company of Miodrag Bulatović on a couple of occasions. There I met Lawrence Durrell, Henry Miller, Rebecca West, there you could meet the most important authors from all over the world in one place. Lawrence Darrell was not interested in publishing books in our country, because he was exiled from Belgrade, where after the war he worked as a press attaché of the British embassy. Nevertheless, I managed to have his book published by Prosveta in the "Great Novels" edition in 1965. The Alexandria Quartet, for which I also wrote a long foreword.
Why did you leave Yugoslavia in 1968?. and decided to stay in Italy?
That year, I was the vice president of the Association of Literary Translators of Serbia, so at the invitation of Dragoljub Mićunović, together with Vasko Pop and Mija Pavlović, I went to greet the protesting students. We stayed with the students in the Hall of Heroes of the Faculty of Philology until five in the morning, and when we started to go home, we were chased by the militia and I was beaten with a baton. That hit me terribly and offended me, and for that reason I decided to leave Yugoslavia with my wife, daughter and son.
My intention was to move to Oxford where I had friends, but on the way to England we were so enchanted by the beauty of Italy that we decided to stay in Milan, where I got a job with a publisher of children's books. Shortly after that, I moved to the Florentine Sansoni and stayed there for 20 years. Those are the most beautiful days for me, spent in Florence. I would go around town with my children and listen to them comment: "Oh babbo, che bello!" (How beautiful, dad) When you have Michelangelo on one side and Donatello on the other and a house always full of guests...
How was your experience with the Milanese publisher Rizzoli?
I worked for him as director for foreign affairs, I opened several of their bookstores in the USA and South America. I had various experiences during those years... At one point it occurred to me that we could rework the Larus encyclopedia into a children's edition, but not for Europe but for Arabic-speaking countries, and it seemed to me that it would be most interesting to do it with Gaddafi, who received me nicely. "How much will it cost us?" he asked. When he heard that our estimates were around three million dollars, he replied that it was a lot of money! Without thinking much, I answered him: "Mr. President, that's how much one wing of a fighter plane costs." He agreed, however, we never got that money.
It was also wonderful to collaborate with the publishing house Jaca Book from Milan. I worked with them as an advisor and was in charge of the "Byzantine-Slavic Corps" edition. Everything that we published in Jaca Book was also published by the Russians, for example: Serbs in the Middle Ages Sime Ćirković, Rusija Likhachev, Wagner, Vzdornov and Skrinikova, as well as Byzantium The splendor of monumental art from the pen of Wellmans, Korać and Šuput.
Which translation bothered you the most?
Maybe Leopardi's Zibaldon's thoughts, published by "Filip Višnjić". That classical, Leopardian language is very specific. He was a great poet and thinker, so he burdened the text itself with his thoughts. Then, I was very attracted to Matthew Barry and his Peter Pan, he remained in my heart. Umberto Eco's compendium also bothered me a lot Endless lists, there I translated from several languages and had problems, for example, in translating a part of the text from Old French. I also enjoyed translating the poetry of Auden and Eliot. Our first translation of the Nobel laureate Cavafy was mine, and I remember how Marko Ristic called me to tell me that the translation was good.
What do you think about today's Serbian publishers??
I have great memories of socialist Yugoslavia, which had Prosveta, Nolit and publishers from Novi Sad, and they were all outstanding. Everything that Serbia has inherited, unfortunately, is nowhere near what Prosveta and Nolit were, who published the best possible titles, with the best possible editors, translators and editors who knew their job, with great respect for the language. That was the time, that's how it happened: what was worth of writers in Yugoslavia gathered around Nolit and Prosveta. If I could go back to that time, I would definitely do the same job, translation literature has always fascinated me. The only thing is that I would devote myself to original writing, if I had time.
Can the translation also be a masterpiece? delo? How to translate the spirit of one language into another, how to find the desired balance in it? How much freedom does the translator have in translating the text?
Of course, the translation can certainly be an excellent and conscientious work, as is the case, for example, with Romain Rolland's book Cola Branyon translated by Milan Bogdanović. Or with pre-war translations of German poetry by our poets. Ivan Lalić was an excellent translator of French poetry.
There are craft and artistic translations. The quality of the translation depends a lot on the morals of the translator and the way he/she approaches the work of art: the translator must not inject private color into the text but must seek an adequate expression of the original writer. It would also be good for the translator to know the entire specific language of the writer he is translating, to have the best knowledge of his own language, to know the culture of the language he is translating from, so to have an excellent general culture. However, a translation is always a translation - not the original.
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