Barking at Rumi

In our paltry, insufficient, one-day class discussion on Rumi, the question of the authenticity of the translations came up (for starters, because Coleman Barks does not read or speak either Classical Persian or Modern Farsi). I had done a little digging into this question, but we didn’t really have enough time to explore the issue as fully as it needed to be. To make up for that, here’s what I can tell you about the challenges of “Translating Rumi”: 

(1) Barks holds an honorary doctorate from the University of Tehran (presumably for his work awakening the Western world to Rumi’s teachings) and is himself a disciple of Sufism, having studied under Bawa Muhaiyaddeen, a well-known Sri Lankan Sufi mystic he met in Philadelphia. Barks is in fact very knowledgeable, at least about the mystical side of the religion.

(2) His translations are, without doubt, extremely free and for that reason have come in for considerable (and mostly valid) criticism. However, simply being free doesn’t necessarily mean false. You can find magnificent translations at points all along the free⟷literal continuum. For instance, the English versions Barks works from are hyper-literal—good for seeing exactly what Rumi said, but not very good as poems. Barks’ translations (interpretations?) are nearer the opposite end of that spectrum: great poems in a modern idiom, but emphasizing certain aspects of Rumi’s thought at the expense of others. As an example, check out the following side-by-side comparison:

NICHOLS On the Day of Resurrection every hidden     thing will be made manifest: every     sinner will be ignominiously exposed     by himself. His hands and feet will give evidence and     declare his iniquity in the presence of     Him whose help is sought. His hand will say, ‘I have stolen such and     such’; his lip will say, ‘I have asked     such and such questions’; His foot will say. 'I have gone to [enjoy]     things desired’; his pudendum will say,     ‘I have committed fornication.’ His eye will say, ‘I have cast amorous     glances at things forbidden’; his ear     will say, ‘I have gathered evil words.’ Therefore he is a lie from head to foot,     for even his own members give him     the lie, Just as, in [the case of] the specious     prayers [performed by the ascetic],     their fine appearance was proved to be     false testimonio testiculi. Act, then, in such wise that the action     itself, without [your] tongue [uttering     a word], will be [equivalent to]     saying ‘I testify’ and [to making] the     most explicit declaration, So that your whole body, limb by limb,     O son, will have said ‘I testify’ as     regards both good and ill. The slave’s walking behind his master is     a testimony [equivalent to saying],     ‘I am subject to authority and this man     is my lord.’   Reynold A. Nicholson (translator), The Mathnawi of Jalalu'din Rumi, Book V, vs. 2211-2220 (E. J. W. Gibb Memorial Trust 1926, reprinted 2001), p.133.

BARKS On Resurrection Day your body testifies      against you. Your hand says, ‘I stole money.’ Your lips, ‘I said meanness.’ Your feet, ‘I went where I shouldn’t.’ Your genitals, ‘Me too.’  They will make your praying sound     hypocritical. Let the body’s doings speak openly now, without your saying a word, as a student’s walking behind a teacher says, “This one knows more clearly than I the way.” Coleman Barks, The Essential Rumi: New Expanded Edition (Harper Collins Publishers, 2004), p.111.

source: Wikipedia, “Coleman Barks”

Could there be a translation that followed the substance of Rumi’s lines more faithfully, yet rang more like a poem than Nichols’? I should hope so! On the other hand, I don’t know how you could cut to the essence of the poem as cleanly as Barks does—though my use of the word “cut” here points to one of the key issues that people have with Barks’ versions.

(3) The more serious issue to my mind has to do with the points made in Rozina Ali’s nicely argued piece in The New Yorker, “The Erasure of Islam from the Poetry of Rumi,” which appeared in the January 2017 issue. To the extent this accusation of “spiritual colonialism” is true, this problem long predates Barks—but because these are some of the very translations that Barks works from to create his versions, they affect (infect?) his work as well.

Sufis dancing in front of Rumi's tomb

(4) There is another aspect of the controversy to consider. Sufism is an ancient Islamic sect, but it is not a mainstream one. Sufism represents the transcendental, mystical wing of Islamic faith, more concerned with spiritual ecstasy than religious orthodoxy. Practitioners dedicate themselves to seeking Allah through prayer, ascetic living, and, for dervishes, their famous twirling dance. It is this ecstatic, mystical aspect of Rumi’s teaching and poetry that speaks to Barks and which he highlights in his versions of the poems. This is also where Barks’ Rumi runs into New Age Mysticism—another item of contention with some of his critics.

(5) In light of all this, you might well be asking yourself, Should I read Barks? But I don’t think that’s quite the right question. A better one might be, Should you only read Barks? And I think the answer to that is clearly, No (depending, of course, on what you want to learn, and why). I rather think that this is the answer for anyone falling in love with writers and poets in translation. My library for this course contains multiple translations of many of the works we have read. Sometimes I have a clear preference for one above all others; in other cases, I love two or even three (the case with Homer). For Rumi, though, it so far contains only two volumes: the one translated by Barks that we have been reading from; the other, a collection of translations by a dozen different translators: The Rumi Collection, edited by Kabir Helminski, featuring many excellent, stylistically various translations of these amazing poems.

I found the webpage below to be a helpful overview of Rumi’s many translators. Maybe it can help you explore his poetry in more depth, too:

https://rumiscircle.com/translating-rumi/

The Panchatantra!

I could not help but notice, that these three princes were to mature or more so become all the wiser by simply listening to frame tails. Yes, these frame tails teach lessons on how they should conduct themselves, as a ruler and a man, but what happens when they are faced with a real problem that is not answered in the stories?

As being a reader of these tails, being inside tails, being inside more tails it can be a little hard to follow. Assuming, that us as students are smarter than the three princes, how well do you think the princes actually followed the tails? Do you think they had to stop and explain matters and actions multiple times?
Out of all of the stories told by Visnusarman which do you think is most helpful towards the princes? I for myself believe it is the outer frame tail of the lion and oxen. The interactions between the lion and all of the animals shows that he is indeed a ruler, yet not invincible, and can see when he makes mistakes. Although he still wants to be seen as "the all powerful ruler" of his jungle.
I found these frame tails to be precisely laid out and would have been wonderful, to hear as a young prince who needed a little extra tutoring.

Some Thoughts on Genji

When discussing the Tale of Genji in class, it seemed like a lot of people disliked it. I on the other hand found it more interesting and unique than a lot of other things we’ve been reading recently. Several people found it hard to follow, whereas I found it easier to follow than some previous readings. The fact that we’ve only been given such a small excerpt made me more curious about the rest of the book and want to know more about what happens. I also was completely unfamiliar with any Japanese literature or history, so that made it more intriguing as well.

For those who disliked the reading: were there any aspects about it that you did like or find interesting? Whether having to do with the story itself, use of poetry throughout, or what we learned about Lady Murasaki, for example the fact that she managed to learn to write with Chinese characters in a time when women were forbidden from doing so. Or even some of the art that we were shown in class. I personally found it to be really beautiful.



My second question for everyone is: why do you imagine that this particular chapter about the Evening Faces was the one chosen for our textbook? In what ways do you think the events or descriptions in this chapter might give us a good idea or understanding of the book as a whole?

Lastly, my final question is: since this takes place in a time where heroism was not about skills in battle or any of the other stereotypical “heroic” qualities that we’ve gotten used to, what qualities or actions make or don’t make Genji a hero in this tale, besides just being the son of an emperor? And what evidence points to those things being seen as heroic during this period?

Genji's Male Dominance

            While reading this piece of literature, I become very sickened in the way that Genji used women to satisfy his need for dominance. I spent some time watching the R. Kelly documentary tapes this past summer and Genji’s actions show many similarities to R. Kelly’s actions with women. If R. Kelly’s story is not familiar to you, it is a very long and uncomfortable story. R. Kelly is a famous musical artist that was known for having interest in younger women or underage women. Younger women interested him because of their innocence and his ability to control them easier than a mature adult. R. Kelly would hold these girls in his house, and they would not be allowed to even go to the bathroom without asking him first. Theorists who have been following him believe that he controls these girls until they become almost like a pet to him. The documentary is very interesting and definitely a must watch if you enjoy investigative shows.

If you haven’t caught onto where I’m going with Genji, let me explain. Genji showed interest in more innocent or childlike women. The story validates that when it says, “Something childlike in her fright brought a smile to his lips” (p. 1483). Genji is intrigued in the innocence and we could even say the vulnerability of this woman to be influenced by him. Genji was a married man and so was R. Kelly, but it seems like this infidelity was acceptable for Genji compared to the negative traits it has today. We discussed how common it was for married and powerful men to have affairs with multiple other women. These women threw themselves at Genji because he is who he is. This is a parallel to R. Kelly’s story because the same happened for him. These younger girls or naive young women would throw themselves at him because of his money and fame. A lot of the time R. Kelly would promise musical opportunities to these women and that would make them even more inclined to stick with him. The “player” personality of Genji is something that we often find in wealthy and powerful people today. Although Genji is not at the extreme level as R. Kelly, it is hard not to see the similar tendencies these men had with taking full advantage of who they were.

What were your opinions on Genji and his lovers? Did you think that he was a good lover or a toxic lover?

Bamsi Beyrek and Irony

As you all may know, the basis of the The Story of Bamsi Beyrek is that Bamsi is taken hostage during his wedding night by infidels.  Everyone believes Bamsi because Yaltajuk, who wants Bamsi out of the picture so he can marry Banu Chichek, dips a Bamsi's shirt he left behind in blood.  While imprisoned by the infidels, it is revealed that the daughter of the King of the infidels is in love with Bamsi.  His only way out of imprisonment is to promise to marry the infidel king's daughter if he gets away in sixteen years.  He does get back home during that time, where he is eventually reunites with Chichek.  However, he does not marry her right away; he actually goes back to marry the infidel king's daughter and then comes back to marry Chichek.

The irony to the ending of this is that Bamsi was an Oghuz Turk. The Book of Dede Korkut is known for stories that represent pre-islamic and Turkish beliefs.  The Oghuz Turks were monogamous, meaning that they marry only one person.  It was the religion of Islam that supported polygamy, which is where people have multiple spouses.  The irony behind the story of Bamsi Beyrek is that it is the ONLY story in The Book of Dede Korkut that has polygamy.

Do you think that the polygamy part of the story was put in there on purpose?  Why do you think they made Bamsi's marriage polygamous when the Turks believed in monogamy?

And yes, don't mind this picture of Bamsi looking seductive.

A Lie of Omission

Bamsi Beyrek’s story is both interesting and really crazy. Several times throughout the story, Bamsi proves himself to be relatively observant but does not say anything about his observations – he keeps his head down and his mouth shut. In exchange for saving some merchants, he asks for the horse, club, and bow that they are supposed to bring back to his father as gifts for him. While they are willing to do so, if unhappy about it, Bamsi allows them to bring the items to him so that they will not get in trouble for losing them and so that his father can give them to him. Instead of claiming what they technically owe him and earning his name now that he has killed men, he allows himself to remain nameless instead of shaming the merchants.

               Bamsi also later conceals his encounter from his father when asked what kind of woman he wishes to marry. Rather than say that he met his betrothed in the woods or use her name when describing her, he allows his father to interpret his description into Banu Chichek. While marrying her certainly has its own repercussions (her brother’s overprotectiveness, specifically), I am focusing more specifically on the potential repercussions of Bamsi’s manipulation of his father. Are Bamsi’s omissions to his father more likely to have beneficial or damaging consequences, and why?

Poor Margery

It is tempting to put Margery Kempe down as a simple nutcase, but there’s a danger in that assessment—because it unintentionally leads to dismissing and trivializing her life story as one of outrageous delusion, and therefore false. Regardless of the source of Kempe’s behavior—madness, psychosis, depression, divine torment—be it psychiatric or spiritual, she lived it real and she lived it hard.

Sparing neither herself nor the people around her, she drove herself to the utmost extremes of human tolerance. Just consider how far that drive took her: personally, in building (and sometimes losing) her businesses and successfully (if painfully) deconstructing her marriage; religiously, in her unsparing drive to win her place as a Christian holy woman; physically, for she was truly pitiless toward her own comforts (and when the weeping came upon her, that was literally draining as well!); even geographically, given how difficult travel just to France could be in that time—much less a journey to Jerusalem—and the fact that she undertook that journey essentially alone, as an unpleasant, unaccommodating, often embarrassing companion shunned by her fellow travelers. The diagnosis of madness, even if true, doesn't leave much room to acknowledge the gritty, desperate richness and sacrifice of her hard-fought life. 

As for the fascinating discussion on witchcraft (11/5) on the blog: If Margery had been born a century later, she might have been lucky that her madness (if indeed that's what religious intoxication is, as many would assuredly disagree) took the form it did, because her fixation on Christ instead of some other focus might have made it riskier for people to challenge her, having no way to know whether she was genuine or not. (Margery herself seems to worry about her legitimacy at one point, which takes her to visit Julian of Norwich, another and far more respected and accepted Christian mystic.)

But in the 14th century, my understanding is that most of the witch paranoia was focused on men, not women—warlocks, not witches. Women don't come under dark suspicion until the late 15th century, when things start to get really ugly for them; by the 16th century (17th in America), the “pogrom” is in full swing. (I await correction on my witch chronology, if someone knows it in better detail…)

Now, what post is complete without a soundtrack? Back in the day, I used to perform with some friends, and one of the tunes we played was about a witch, Susannah Martin. The words are taken from a newspaper account of her trial...