Translator: Margaret Young
Introduction: Ramón Alberto Meléndez
Quinteros
Publisher: Almava Editores
Review by: Ari Samuel Alkalay Appel
El espacio
improbable de un haikú (“The Unlikely Space of a Haiku”)
written by Sergio Inestrosa and translated by Margaret Young is a
collection of short poems that explores the themes of language,
beauty, love, loss, homecoming, and the pursuit of self-realization,
all in the forms of the haiku and the senryu. Small Japanese drawings
accompany the poems on some of the pages. With just over one-hundred
poems, the work makes a good introduction to the forms for those new
to them, and for experienced readers, it challenges possibilities.
The title influenced my reading of the collection, begging me to
think about the haiku as a space rather than a form, a space in which
we can rest, meet each other, or encounter forces greater than
ourselves. The idea that this space is “unlikely” implies that
the architecture of the haiku may contain hidden corridors to places
we would not usually go. The time spent in a haiku is brief, less
than one breath. Just as the heartbeat is the meter of the body, so
breath is the meter of the mind, an indivisible unit of life.
Inestrosa explores the poetic possibilities of a breath as a venue
for thought.
With some exceptions, the first
three-quarters of the book are love poems, and the final quarter are
existential poems. Some of the love poems manage to depict a tragedy
in few words, such as “my life depends upon / the ration of time /
you spend on me.” Some convey longing and impatience: “what good
are dreams, / if you will never / appear in them.” Others convey
physical desire: “my fingers grazing / the skin of your hips; /
sets the room on fire.”
The existential
poems are my favorite, including: “low tide / broken shells, trash
/ on every beach,” which elucidates a 21st century conundrum, “lips
are silent / through tears / the eyes speak,” which packs an
impressive level of metaphorical significance into a small space, and
my personal favorite, “where have I gone? / I can’t find myself
anymore / in this mirror.” This last poem is haunting: if the
first-person narrator can’t find herself in her reflection, where
could she have gone? The paradox is that if one is lost, a mirror
only reflects a lost person. One cannot find herself there. The
mirror reflects the visual but not the metaphysical. Famously afraid
of mirrors, Jorge Luis Borges might have been fond of this poem.
Each poem is
printed first in Spanish, then in English. I enjoyed both versions
together, sometimes the Spanish more and sometimes the English as
standalone poems, but always their unity above all. One poem in which
the translation really shines is “arde espuma / en la
cresta de una ola / juegan delfines” (“froth blazes / on the
wave’s crest / dolphins play”). The verb “blazes” utilizes
the semantic repertoire of the English language to enhance the
Spanish version.
In my favorite poem
about mirrors, I would change the translation. The Spanish is as
follows: “¿dónde me he ido? / que ya no me encuentro; / en
este espejo.” The English is printed above. In the Spanish, the
second line is connected to the first syntactically with the word
“que,” which is lost in the English. The “que ya”
cannot be translated directly, but “now that” at the beginning of
the second line in place of “any more” at the end would have at
least maintained the syntactic connection between the first two
lines. Despite this, many of the poems are clarified and enhanced by
their translations. The book is simply not the same as a monolingual
text. Reading it bilingually gives the poems more texture and
resolution. An inhale prepares the reader for the page, an exhale
reads the Spanish, an inhale processes what was read, an exhale reads
the English, and finally, an inhale comprehends the poem as one:
Spanish and English.
Taken together, El
espacio improbable de un haikú (“The Unlikely Space of a
Haiku”) by Sergio Inestrosa translated by Margaret Young is a
beautiful and insightful volume of poems. It is nice as a book to
peruse or to place on a coffee table and open to any page.
No comments:
Post a Comment