The Swimming Pool

I'm reading through my first translation of Taiwanese literature and I've got mixed impressions. First, I'm moved by the simplicity of the stories: a universal heartbreaking glimpse of the death of country life in the face of urbanization. Surprisingly, the resentment of rural Taiwanese, after having undergone three separate waves of colonialism, has only intensified. The remodeling of the country under the Japanese has been all but forgotten after the Mainlander takeover and then again by the zealous modernization of the Democratic-Capitalist era. Every new blow to the countryside is taken as a novelty by both the expanding city and the receding countryside. I saw a silly movie, Pom Pocco, about a group of Raccoons outside of Tokyo putting up a futile effort against urban sprawl. Rustic spirit, interpreted in this case by magical shape-shifting powers, will always loose to guns and obese land developers. Nature will loose against modern appetites.
In the book I'm reading through now, The Taste of Apples by Huang Chun-ming, the same drama is played out on many smaller stages. The inevitability of defeat doesn't diminish the suspense, the joy of the battle or the sublime moment of the death of the cause. Life cycles, more or less.
What does diminish the story, though, is the terrible translation. Perhaps Howard Goldblatt is well read, perhaps even well-adjusted to the culture he is speaking for. He is not up to the task of turning a beautiful Chinese phrase into a beautiful English one. I am withholding ultimate judgement on Howard before reading his other, highly acclaimed translations. Could it be that the original book is as bland as its translation? The collection of stories has been compared too stridently to Faulkner because of its focus on small town existence. The first story is about a boy failing to carry a Bonito fish back to his mountain home. A Faulknarian topic, I suppose. But the lack of distinct voice, thought and tone fails epically to live up to the comparison.
So what am I thinking? I need to learn more Chinese. I need to understand what is good and bad in the native language. I need also to read more translations and seek a voice with real pathos. Translations in the other direction, I gather, are equally as lack-luster. The translations which Murakami has benefited from cannot serve as the norm for Asian language translation. Or maybe Taiwan has yet to produce its own master. The island doesn't boast any Nobel Prize contenders, in any case. But we'll have to wait and see. And read.

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Location:XiYuán Rd,Siansi Township,Taiwan