Monday, April 18, 2005
(9:01 AM) | Adam Kotsko:
From "What is a 'relevant' translation?"
Tomorrow I defend my thesis. I'm not sure what that process entails. In any case, in honor of the probable acceptance of my thesis and therefore of my having all but completed the requirements for having my mastery of the art of religion certified, here is some Derrida, from the essay "What is a 'relevant' translation?" trans. Lawrence Venuti, Critical Inquiry 27.2 (2001): 174-200. In this essay, he discusses Shakespeare's play The Merchant of Venice, particularly the phrases "when mercy seasons justice" and "Then must the Jew be merciful."(Permit me a parenthesis here: while rereading this extraordinary verdict whose ruse we shall analyze in a moment--namely, the phrase that says "then the Jew must forgive," implying that "it is the Jew who must forgive," "it is up to the Jew in general to forgive"--I can't avoid recalling the Pope's extraordinary sigh at the end of the second millenium. Several months ago, as he was about to board the plane for one of his transcontinental journeys, he was asked what he thought of the French episcopate's declaration of repentance, and after sighing, after feeling a bit sorry for himself, after feeling a bit sorry for Christianity and Catholicisim, he said: "I notice it is always we who are asking for forgiveness." Well! The implication: forgiveness from the Jews [even if some people legitimately think of certain American Indians, too, as well as various other victims of the Inquisition whom the Pope has since put on the list as another duty of commemoration, as it is called--or of repentance]. It is always we, Christians or Catholics, who are asking for forgiveness, but why? Yes, why? Is it that forgiveness is a Christian thing and Christians should set an example because Christ's Passion consisted of assuming sin on the cross? Or indeed because, under the circumstances, a certain Church, if not Christianity, will always have reproached itself a great deal, while asking for forgiveness, and first of all from the Jew, whom it has asked for forgiveness--and to be merciful? "Then must the Jew be merciful.")Here's another chunk that is particularly relevant to my translation, which I confess that I didn't read in as timely a manner as I should--since the entire essay is astoundingly similar to "my" section, despite also being completely different:
The strength of forgiveness, if you listen to Portia, is more than just, more just than justice or the law. It rises above the law or above what in justice is only law; it is, beyond human law, the very thing that invokes prayer. And what is, finally, a discourse on translation (possible/impossible) is also a discourse of prayer on prayer. Forgiveness is prayer; it belongs to the order of benediction and prayer on two sides: that of the person who requests it and that of the person who grants it. The essence of prayer has to do with forgiveness, not with power and law. Between the elevation of prayer or benediction--above human power, above even royal power insofar as it is human, above the law, above the penal code--and the elevation of forgiveness above human power, royal power and the law, there exists a sort of essential affinity. Prayer and forgiveness have the same provenance and the same essence, the same eminence that is more eminent than eminence, the eminence of the Most High.There are also some interesting passages in which he acts as though his greatest intellectual contribution will have been his proposal that we translate the Hegelian Aufhebung by the French relèver -- people even cite that translation "when its origin is no longer known, or when its place of origin--I mean 'me'--or its taste is disliked."
"Me." Good stuff.