Journal of Italian Translation

298
Journal of Italian Translation
able, however, is a complete misreading or misunderstanding of the text.
In “Verso un concerto in Val d’Orcia” (“Concert-going, Orcia Valley”),
we find such a case. Molino, perhaps in haste, translated “al tessere dei
merli e delle bigie” as “In a weave of blackbirds and chariots.” He has
mistaken barred warblers for chariots. No doubt the similarity of “bigie”
(warblers, sylvia nisoria) to “bighe” (chariots) was heightened by the reference
to “legendary battle” in the successive line.
Weighed in the whole of the work, however, it will be up to a reader
to decide if these are slight matters or heavy ones. But these examples
which I have just cited are few and far between in the course of Molino’s
work. His translations, overall, are more than adequate. In fact, as I have
already noted, the fact that he even attempted to transcribe Mariani into
English speaks volumes on his confidence and range in Italian. If one were
to be dissuaded from reading Molino’s translations based on these few
objective criticisms of some of the linguistic inconsistencies found within
them, one would be missing an important voice in Italian poetry; a voice
which reminds us that in every line we write, we are old and new, constantly
re-evaluating the power of rhetoric. In this sense, Mariani reminds
us to avoid surrendering to the codifications of language in his “Alphabets
of Surrender”: “salvo un grave allarme che detta nuovi alfabeti della
resa / e fa piangere a ognuno il suo poema” (“If not for the grave alarm
that sounds new alphabets of surrender / And prompts each of us to cry
the poem that is ours alone.”).
GREGORY PELL
Hofstra university
Dante, Alighieri. Inferno. Trans. Robert Hollander and Jean Hollander,
intro., and notes Robert Hollander. New York: Doubleday, 2000.
Dante, Alighieri. Purgatorio. Trans. Robert Hollander and Jean Hollander,
intro., and notes Robert Hollander. New York: Doubleday, 2003.
Translation is a challenging and complex enterprise often resulting
in failure. Even the most excellent effort, at best, accurately approximates
the communicative power and beauty of the original. In an attempt to
find the right balance between rhyme and tone, sense and syntax, too
often the translator sacrifices one for the sake of the other. In the case of
the “poema sacro”, Dante’s Commedia, the challenges and complexities
are compounded by its intricate form, “terza rima” and polymorphic sense.
Given the fact that so many will only know Dante in English, the
choice of translation is most crucial. The decision of which translation to
choose is further complicated by the fact that through the years, several
fine translations have surfaced. John Sinclair’s (1939), Robert Durling’s
(1996), and Charles Singleton’s (1970) prose versions are well-recognized
standards. The list of verse translations is a longer one and includes those
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1867), John Ciardi (1954), Robert