Magdalena Heydel

The main problem discussed in the paper is the authenticity of speech of the inhabitants of Chełmno in the sequence filmed outside the parish church in Claude Lanzmann’s Shoah. The authors analyze a number of characteristic features of the bystanders’language vis a vis the French translation provided on-stage by the interpreter Barbara Janicka, and the English subtitles. It is argued that the language of the bystanders carries important information on the speakers’individual and collective identity, and gives clues on the construction of memory, not just on the level of meanings, but also in its materiality. The analysis focuses on four planes which were identified as important for the construction of the implicit messages: semantic ambiguity of the utterances; narrative techniques used by the speakers; verb forms, especially the impersonal use of verbs; and syntax. The specific linguistic traits of the language used testify to the fact that the speakers lack adequate tools to verbalize their traumatic memories and to reflect on the reality that they were part of. The analysis of the linguistic landscape of the scene also leads to conclusions about the instrumentalization of speakers on the part of the film director. The French and English translation in and of the sequence –a summary rather than a rendition –clearly, albeit perhaps not intentionally, contributes to this effect. Through linguistic analysis and wide contextual interpretation, unpacking the way the bystanders speak, creates a new, hitherto unacknowledged, source of knowledge on witnessing and trauma.

The main problem discussed in the paper is the authenticity of speech of the inhabitants of Chełmno in the sequence filmed outside the parish church in Claude Lanzmann’s Shoah. The authors analyze a number of characteristic features of the bystanders’ language vis a vis the French translation provided by the interpreter  Barbara Janicka, and the English subtitles. It is argued that the language of the bystanders carries important information on the speakers’ individual and collective identity, and gives clues on the construction of memory, not just on the level of meanings, but also in its materiality. The analysis focuses on four planes which were identified as important for the construction of the implicit messages: the semantic ambiguity of the utterances; the narrative techniques used by the speakers; verb forms, especially the impersonal use of verbs; and syntax. The specific linguistic traits testify to the fact that the speakers lack adequate tools to verbalize their traumatic memories and to reflect the reality that they were part of. The analysis of the linguistic landscape of the scene also leads to conclusions about the instrumentalization of speakers on the part of the film director. The French and English translation in and of the sequence – a summary rather than a rendition – clearly, albeit perhaps not intentionally, contributes to this effect. Through linguistic analysis and wide contextual interpretation, unpacking the way the bystanders speak creates a new, hitherto unacknowledged, source of knowledge on witnessing and trauma.

Translation as a War of the Worlds?
Translation studies and comparative literature as well as literary theory have common
goals, but also common enemies. To prove his point, Edward Balcerzan entitles his
collection of essays Translation as “the War of the Worlds”. On Translatology and
Comparative Literature (Tłumaczenie jako „wojna światów”. W kręgu translatologii
i komparatystyki) and develops his controlling metaphor through a series of engaging
arguments and examples which demonstrate the ongoing struggle in the two disciplines
between the need to order, classify and canonize – which he himself strongly advocates – and the tendency to blur and shift boundaries, visible in postmodernist thought,
deconstruction and intertextuality. The multilingual in translation proves a risky
challenge which insists on recording the traces of foreignness; the monolingual safely
counters the Babel myth and offers evidence that language can be a space for the
coexistence of literary worlds. Whereas it is diffi cult not to appreciate the author’s
subtle and inspiring analyses, which support his well-known claim that translation is an
art (elaborated over the thirty years of his work as a theorist of translation and literature,
translator and poet), one cannot resist asking questions about Balcerzan’s major premise
that translation is a war of the worlds. Should we no longer see translation as a creative
exchange where versions engage in a dialogue, but rather as a military expedition where
every subsequent version wars against all its predecessors as well as the original? If we
accepted that the function of translatology, comparative literature and literary theory
is to sanction unity and order, rather than transgressive abundance, who should decide
on canon-makers and select a single canonical translation? Balcerzan’s controversial
claims deserve attention and should be treated as an invitation to discussion – an
approach which complements the two pointed out by Anthony Pym as typical of
translation studies: confl ict or indifference.

Claude Lanzmann’s nine-hour documentary Shoah (1985) is a rich source of knowledge on the Nazi extermination of Jews in Central Europe. Its main material consists of interviews with people who witnessed the Holocaust, conducted in the very locations of the wartime events. The present paper analyses an iconic scene from Chełmno on Ner, where between 1940–43 and 1944–45 the first Nazi death camp was located. A group of locals – gathered in front of the parish church, around one of the survivors of the camp – recall the events, sometimes in stunning technical detail. Their Polish utterances are translated into French; English subtitles are based on the French of the interpreter. The Polish linguistic material is not neutral: it is marked with dialectal and sociolectal features; the speakers engage in conversation on the side, comment on the situation of the interview in various ways, verbal and non-verbal. In the translation, both into French and English, sentences are skipped, the plurality of voices is flattened, and differences in memory are smoothed out. The resulting text is rather a summary than a translation. The paper offers close-up analyses of chosen sequences from the interview to show the complexity of the communication situation and the extent of distortion caused by the way translation works in the film. It also offers an alternative translation, which aims at giving voice to the actual people of Chełmno and acknowledging as fully as possible the complication and difficulty of memory construction through language, especially in a highly traumatic context. It hopes to offer insights into the bystander position in Holocaust discourse.

Claude Lanzmann’s nine-hour documentary Shoah (1985) is a rich source of knowledge on the Nazi extermination of Jews in Central Europe. Its main material consists of interviews with people who witnessed the Holocaust, conducted in the very locations of the wartime events. The present paper analyses an iconic scene from Chełmno on Ner, where between 1940–1943 and later 1944–1945 the first Nazi death camp was located. A group of locals –gathered in front of the parish church, around one of the survivors of the camp –recall the events, sometimes in stunning technical detail. Their Polish utterances are translated into French; English subtitles are based on the French of the interpreter. The Polish linguistic material is not neutral: it is marked with dialectal and sociolectal features; the speakers engage in conversation on the side, comment on the situation of the interview in various ways, verbal and non-verbal. In the translation, both into French and English, sentences are skipped, the plurality of voices is flattened, and differences in memory are smoothed out. The resulting text is rather a summary than a translation. The paper offers close-up analyses of chosen sequences from the interview to show the complexity of the communication situation and the extent of distortion caused by the way translation works in the film. It also offers an alternative translation, which aims at giving voice to the actual people of Chełmno and acknowledging as fully as possible the complication and difficulty of memory construction through language, especially in a highly traumatic area. It hopes to offer insights into the bystander position in Holocaust discourse.

ZAPIS FRAGMENTÓW PANELU, KTÓRY ODBYŁ SIĘ 13 MAJA 2011 W KRAKOWIE W RAMACH II FESTIWALU LITERACKIEGO IM. CZESŁAWA MIŁOSZA
Tytuł panelu, poświęconego obecności dzieł Czesława Miłosza w obiegu międzynarodowym i ich przekładom, nawiązuje do tytułu książki Jana Błońskiego Miłosz jak świat, a zarazem do cyklu wierszy Świat. Poema naiwne, który jest jednym z najczęściej tłumaczonych utworów noblisty. Do dyskusji zaproszeni zostali tłumacze poety na różne języki, osoby zaangażowane w tworzenie jego wizerunku, konfrontujące jego twórczość ze swoimi kulturami i tradycjami oraz z odbiorcami czytającymi jego utwory z perspektywy odmiennych doświadczeń. Wszystkich ich łączy jednak przekonanie o wartości Miłosza dla literatury ich krajów i dla literatury światowej, a także świadomość różnorakich trudności związanych z przekładem jego dzieł. Dyskusja, której fragmenty publikujemy, była zwieńczeniem odbywających się w ramach Festiwalu Literackiego im. Czesława Miłosza międzynarodowych warsztatów tłumaczeniowych. Uczestniczyło w nich ponad dwadzieścia osób z różnych krajów, które przez cztery dni pracowały pod kierunkiem doświadczonych tłumaczy polskiej literatury oraz znawców dzieła Czesława Miłosza.