Dante Gabriel Rossetti, being the son of an Italian who was
greatly immersed in the study of Dante Alighieri, and who produced
a Comment on the Inferno , and
other books relating to Dantesque literature, was from his earliest
childhood familiar with the name of the stupendous Florentine, and
to some extent aware of the range and quality of his writings.
Nevertheless—or perhaps indeed it may have been partly on that very
account—he did not in those opening years read Dante to any degree
worth mentioning: he was well versed in Shakespeare, Walter Scott,
Byron, and some other writers, years before he applied himself to
Dante. He may have been fourteen years of age, or even fifteen (May
1843), before he took seriously to the author of the
Divina Commedia . He then read him
eagerly, and with the profoundest admiration and delight; and from
the Commedia he proceeded to the
lyrical poems and the Vita Nuova
. I question whether he ever read—unless in the most cursory
way—other and less fascinating writings of Alighieri, such as
the Convito and the
De Monarchiâ .
From reading, Rossetti went on to translating. He translated
at an early age, chiefly between 1845 and 1849, a great number of
poems by the Italians contemporary with Dante, or preceding him;
and, among other things, he made a version of the whole
Vita Nuova , prose and verse. This may
possibly have been the first important thing that he translated
from the Italian: if not the first, still less was it the last, and
it may well be that his rendering of the book was completed within
the year 1846, or early in 1847. He did not, of course, leave his
version exactly as it had come at first: on the contrary, he took
counsel with friends (Alfred Tennyson among the number), toned down
crudities and juvenilities, and worked to make the whole thing
impressive and artistic—for in such matters he was much more
chargeable with over-fastidiousness than with laxity. Still, the
work, as we now have it, is essentially the work of those
adolescent years—from time to time reconsidered and improved, but
not transmuted.
Some few years after producing his translation of the
Vita Nuova , Rossetti was desirous of
publishing it, and of illustrating the volume with etchings from
various designs, which he had meanwhile done, of incidents in the
story. This project, however, had to be laid aside, owing to want
of means, and the etchings were never undertaken. It was only in
1861 that the volume named The Early Italian
Poets , including the translated
Vita Nuova , was brought out: the same
volume, with a change in the arrangement of its contents, was
reissued in 1874, entitled Dante and his
Circle . This book, in its original form, was
received with favour, and settled the claim of Rossetti to rank as
a poetic translator, or indeed as a poet in his own
right.
For The Early Italian Poets
he wrote a Preface, from which a passage, immediately
relating to the Vita Nuova , is
extracted in the present edition. There are some other passages,
affecting the whole of the translations in that volume, which
deserve to be borne in mind, as showing the spirit in which he
undertook the translating work, and I give them here:—
“The life-blood of rhythmical translation is this
commandment—that a good poem shall not be turned into a bad one.
The only true motive for putting poetry into a fresh language must
be to endow a fresh nation, as far as possible, with one more
possession of beauty. Poetry not being an exact science, literality
of rendering is altogether secondary to this chief law. I
say literality ,—not fidelity,
which is by no means the same thing. When literality can be
combined with what is thus the primary condition of success, the
translator is fortunate, and must strive his utmost to unite them;
when such object can only be obtained by paraphrase, that is his
only path. Any merit possessed by these translations is derived
from an effort to follow this principle.... The task of the
translator (and with all humility be it spoken) is one of some
self-denial. Often would he avail himself of any special grace of
his own idiom and epoch, if only his will belonged to him: often
would some cadence serve him but for his author’s structure—some
structure but for his author’s cadence: often the beautiful turn of
a stanza must be weakened to adopt some rhyme which will tally, and
he sees the poet revelling in abundance of language where himself
is scantily supplied. Now he would slight the matter for the music,
and now the music for the matter; but no, he must deal to each
alike. Sometimes too a flaw in the work galls him, and he would
fain remove it, doing for the poet that which his age denied him;
but no, it is not in the bond.”
It may be as well to explain here a very small share which I
myself took in the Vita Nuova
translation. When the volume The Early
Italian Poets was in preparation, my brother
asked me (January 1861) to aid by “collating my
Vita Nuova with the original, and
amending inaccuracies.” He defined the work further as follows:
“What I want is that you should correct my translation throughout,
removing inaccuracies and mannerisms. And, if you have time, it
would be a great service to translate the analyses of the poems
(which I omitted). This, however, if you think it desirable to
include them. I did not at the time (on ground of readableness),
but since think they may be desirable: only have become so
unfamiliar with the book that I have no distinct opinion.” On
January 25th he wrote: “Many and many thanks for a most essential
service most thoroughly performed. I have not yet verified the
whole of the notes, but I see they are just what I needed, and will
save me a vast amount of trouble. I should very much wish that the
translation were more literal, but cannot do it all again.
My notes, which you have taken the
trouble of revising, are, of course, quite paltry and
useless.”
In order that the reader may judge as to this question of
literality, I will give here the literal Englishing of the Sonnet
at p. 38, and the paragraph which precedes it (I take the passage
quite at random), and the reader can, if he likes, compare this
rendering with that which appears in Dante Rossetti’s
text:—
“After the departure of this gentlewoman it was the pleasure
of the Lord of the Angels to call to His glory a lady young and
much of noble [1] aspect, who was
very graceful in this aforesaid city: whose body I saw lying
without the soul amid many ladies, who were weeping very piteously.
Then, remembering that erewhile I had seen her keeping company with
that most noble one, I could not withhold some tears. Indeed,
weeping, I purposed to speak certain words about her death, in
guerdon of my having at some whiles seen her with my lady. And
somewhat of this I referred to in the last part of the words which
I spoke of her, as manifestly appears to him who understands them:
and then I composed these two Sonnets—of which the first begins,
‘Weep, lovers’—the second, ‘Villain Death.’
“Weep, lovers, since Love weeps,—hearkening what cause makes
him wail: Love hears ladies invoking pity, showing bitter grief
outwardly by the eyes; because villain Death has set his cruel
working upon a noble heart, ruining that which in a noble lady is
to be praised in the world, apart from honour. Hear how much Love
did her honouring; for I saw him lamenting in very person over the
dead seemly image: and often he gazed towards heaven, wherein was
already settled the noble soul who had been a lady of such gladsome
semblance.”
It would be out of place to enter here into any detailed
observations upon the Vita Nuova
, its meaning, and the literature which has grown out of it.
I will merely name, as obvious things for the English reader to
consult, the translation which was made by Sir Theodore Martin; the
essay by Professor C. Eliot Norton; the translations published by
Dr. Garnett in his book entitled Dante, Petrarch,
Camoens, 124 Sonnets , along with the remarks in
his valuable History of Italian
Literature ; Scartazzini’s
Companion to Dante ; and the
publications of the Rev. Dr. Moore, the foremost of our living
Dante scholars.
W. M. Rossetti.
August 1899.