Bojana (below screen) presenting her paper during the conference portion of International Whitman Week 2010

Bojana presented her paper “Can ‘Calamus 9’ Matter?: Reading and Translating Whitman” on Saturday, June 18 on a panel with Ed Folsom (University of Iowa), Caterina Bernardini (University of Macerata), and Stephanie Blalock (University of Iowa).  In her professional and yet personable way, she analyzed the history of the poem’s inception, its critical reception and her own subtle interpretation of the lines.  Bojana’s presentation of the challenges faced by a Serbian translator of Whitman held this international audience in rapt attention.  Though I could go on with descriptions of Bojana’s poise and fluency in presenting Whitman’s work and the exciting discussion that followed, I believe it’s best if you hear about the experience from Bojana herself:

The moment I found out that my paper was accepted for the Whitman Symposium, I felt tremendous excitement at the prospect of participating in another international literature gathering. However, Whitman Week in Macerata (Italy) was a literature seminar of a very special kind, indeed. It gathered scholars of different ages from around the globe with one common interest – Walt Whitman. The focus of the symposium part, held on 18 and 19 June and named “In Paths Untrodden”: The 1860 Leaves of Grass, was the third edition of Whitman’s famous poetry collection. The 1860 edition was presented through a number of most informative papers, dealing with the poems from different perspectives. Mine was the perspective of a translator. As part of the Looking for Whitman project, the participating students of the University of Novi Sad (myself included) were asked to choose a poem that has a special appeal to them, to study it and translate into Serbian. The object of my research was “Calamus 9”, the process of translating it and the problems I met with, as well as the reception of Whitman in Serbia.

As an MA student and someone who plans to continue studying Whitman, I can say that the week in Macerata was a truly inspiring and encouraging experience. In a pleasant and friendly atmosphere, students and professors were sharing opinions and experiences. New possibilities for exploring the world of this amazing poet emerged in conversations with students from different countries and also with professors like Ed Folsom, Kenneth Price and Karen Karbiener, to whom we are all grateful for bringing Whitman to Novi Sad.

As a participant in the entirety of Whitman Week (14-19 June), Elma attended plenaries, participated in resource sessions, viewed and commented upon Whitman-inspired films and performances—and even toured the beautiful Macerata landscape with the symposium leaders and graduate participants. Brilliant, ebullient, a great favorite in the group, Elma offers a wrap-up of the year’s Whitmanic odyssey below:

International Whitman Week 2010!

The whole Whitmanic experience started in October 2009 with the Professor Karen Karbiener’s introductory lecture at the University of Novi Sad in Serbia. It was one of the five subjects I chose for my MA studies in English literature. My decision to take the Whitman poetry was the direct consequence of my deepest admiration and appreciation of poetry in general and since it was the only one of all the offered subjects to deal with poetry, my decision came very naturally and spontaneously. Upon having taken this class, my only expectations were to explore more of the elusive and subtle world of poetry and to expose myself to its mysterious workings. At that very moment I absolutely had no idea that the whole Whitmanic experience would have greater impacts on my personal and professional development.

It seems important to mention here few crucial aspects of “Walt Whitman: The Global Perspective” class, which was the part of a revolutionary pedagogical experiment, called “Looking for Whitman”. The first aspect would be the improvement of my computer literacy. Throughout the course in Novi Sad I was exposed to the latest technical innovations and had an excellent opportunity to learn how to use them all in an enhanced digital learning environment. Together with other great students in the class, Bojana, Indira, Josip, Neda and Sanja, I was asked to create my own blog where I was to publish all my comments, involvements and assignments on Whitman’s poetry. I cannot but mention my fellow student Dragan and his technical expertise which was of great assistance to all of us in our efforts.

The second aspect would be a translation challenge I encountered at the lectures. I translated one of the Whitman’s poems from the Calamus cluster, “Calamus 9”, which had not been translated into any of ex-Yugoslavia languages before. Some of the difficulties and perplexities that I came across while translating opened up some new perspectives to me as a translator. I came to understand even more deeply how intimately related a poem and a translator must be, and that translation is a never-ending process. Karen even had a Serbian contemporary translator, Dragan Puresic, come to one of our classes, and it was a tremendous experience enveloping mutual knowledge, skills and energy of all of us, bringing Whitman to life in Novi Sad through his poetry.

Furthermore, I was provided with guidance and support in the “professionalizing” of my academic career. As a result of Karen’s influence and things we did in the classes, I was admitted to Walt Whitman Seminar and Symposium, which was held in June at the university of Macerata in Italy. That was a remarkable opportunity in so many ways, and I am really honoured that my application was approved among many others. The Walt Whitman week represents a unique event which attracts many esteemed Whitman scholars and standout graduate students from around the world. The event itself, together with a remarkable organization of our Italian hosts, exceeded all my expectations and proved itself to be a lifetime experience.

It serves as a living proof that Whitman’s poetry has been breaking geographical, cultural, political, religious, and all other boundaries, and that art should be an indispensible part of our lives. Additionally, I have no words to express my thanks to Professor Marina Camboni, Renata Morresi and Caterina Bernardini, as well as to all other members of the organizing committee, for all their effort and touching hospitality. Che fortuna avervi conosciuto e grazie mille di cuore!

Finally, with the official part of “Looking for Whitman” project completed, I find myself sitting at my desk, reflecting on the last few months, and writing down some of the incredible aspects of the whole Whitmanic experience. Even though my feelings are still running very high, I can easily isolate my deepest and ever-lasting gratitude to Karen Karbiener for all her unselfish support and encouragement, the contentment for being a part of such a wonderful experience and all the benefits, professional and personal, I have been given through it – not only that my view of the classroom experience has been enriched, but I had opportunity to listen and to talk to some of the greatest experts in Whitman oeuvre, and learn a great deal from them. Discussions we led during the Whitman Week in Macerata and during the semester in Novi Sad have certainly left an indelible imprint on me and confirmed me in my belief that poetry does matter and that poetry really keeps us awake and ever burning. So, that is the final and the most invaluable aspect of the whole Whitman experience.

“Here my last words, and the most baffling,

Here the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest-lasting,

Here I shade down and hide my thoughts – I do not expose them,

And yet they expose me more than all my other poems.”

(from  “Calamus 44”, 1860)

Can poetry matter?  As part of their final assessments, I asked my students to respond to Dana Gioia’s controversial 1992 essay.  Each of the recent poetry converts gave a well-reasoned and enthusiastic affirmative response, and I found myself happily nodding along with them.  Poetry really does matter, as I witnessed firsthand bringing Walt Whitman to Serbia.  He sounds as true, beautiful, and useful in the Balkans as he does on my own Brooklyn Bridge.  Walt, wherever you are, it must do your heart good to know that we’re all still listening, still learning.

You, where you are!

You daughter or son of England!

You of the mighty Slavic tribes and empires! You Russ in Russia!…

All you continents of Asia, Africa, Europe, Australia, indifferent of place!

All you on the numberless islands of the archipelagoes of the sea!

And you of centuries hence, when you listen to me!

And you, each and everywhere, whom I specify not, but include just the same!

Health to you!  Good will to you all—from me and America sent,

For we acknowledge you all and each.

(from “Salut Au Monde!”, 1860)

Looking forward to our reunion in Macerata, Bojana and Elma!

Честитамо!!!!!!!!

macerata-manifesto2010

macerata-program2010

My participation in the NEH-funded “Looking for Whitman” project enabled me to introduce my Serbian students to Whitman as a poet of global reputation and application, and also connected them to other students in Whitman seminars across the US.  Grant funds provided for the introduction of new technologies in our classroom, ensuring that each student would have access to a Flipcam as well as a specially trained assistant (our own beloved Dragan Babic, a senior at the University of Novi Sad).  As a way of encouraging their use of these resources as well as their creativity, I asked each student to design a “cinepoem” that would both verbally and visually represent the translation he or she had composed as part of their final project.  Though all of them worked through frequent internet outages, some were subject to the availability of public computers, and none of them had ever seen a Flipcam before, they each mastered the technology and produced surprisingly professional—and moving—short films.  All of their efforts are viewable on our “Video Map”– the link’s just at the top of this page.

Each of these videos is quite different in style and tone, though they all seem to combine the makers’ deep-rooted love of their country with their new passion for Whitman.  Neda found new freedom of expression in the video mode, as her provocative (even sexy) interpretation of “Calamus 11” demonstrates.  Josip kept the imagery simple and straightforward, preferring to let his translation of “Calamus 6” speak for itself.  Sanja’s visual interpretation of “Calamus 9” invites contemplation, while  Bojana’s setting of the same poem is a Whitmanic celebration of Belgrade, her beloved hometown.  Indira’s translation of “Calamus 22” is recited by a wonderful collective of Serbs young and old (including her toothless grandfather), creating a video montage of overwhelming emotional impact.  And Elma, a resident of beautiful war-torn Sarajevo who commuted seven hours to our class (each way) each week, offered a powerful raison d’etre for poetry: it keeps us burning.  Images of Sarajevo’s “eternal flame” segue to Elma’s candlelit reading of “Calamus 9.”

Can poetry matter?  As part of their final project, I asked my students to respond to Dana Gioia’s controversial 1992 essay.  Each of the recent poetry converts gave a well-reasoned and enthusiastic affirmative response, and I found myself happily nodding along with them.  Poetry really does matter, as I witnessed firsthand bringing Walt Whitman to Serbia.  He sounds as true, beautiful, and useful in the Balkans as he does on my own Brooklyn Bridge.  Walt, wherever you are, it must do your heart good to know that we’re all still listening, still learning.

You, where you are!
You daughter or son of England!
You of the mighty Slavic tribes and empires! You Russ in Russia!…
All you continents of Asia, Africa, Europe, Australia, indifferent of place!
All you on the numberless islands of the archipelagoes of the sea!
And you of centuries hence, when you listen to me!
And you, each and everywhere, whom I specify not, but include just the same!
Health to you!  Good will to you all—from me and America sent,
For we acknowledge you all and each.
(from “Salut Au Monde!”, 1860)

Ezra Greenspan talks about the celebration and commemoration of Whitman all around the world. And there is something special in the way that these conferences are held, each in its own way. But, Greenspan claims that Whitman is a true New York poet. He is a celebrator of diversity, poet of ferries and bridges and a master of self-advertising. And furthermore he is a poet of the spoken word, a master of spoken arts. That is why there is something appropriate about the public readings of Whitman in New York City.

Even more interesting to Greenspan is the fact that Whitman always has a wide span of audience. He doesn’t limit himself to America only but spreads the word all over the world, and because of that he is a true global poet. Even the future readers and the “poets to come” are included. That is why he was never fit for the established cultural models. In this context he wanted to ensure an afterlife for himself by recording his own voice while reading his poem America. And in that sense, Ezra Greenspan collected these essays to reflect the variety of Whitman’s audience and diversity of readings. The view points are various, some are interpreting the I-you relationship, Whitman’s interest in the new arts, some deal with the influence on feminist movements, or on Latin America.

This book is a gift for the University of Novi Sad from Karen Karbiener and her WhitmaniaNS.

I had some problems uploading it, but I hope you can all view it fine.

After planning, changing, deciding, it is finally finished… I must say that it was more fun filming it than it is watching it. Almost like I’m sorry it is all over.

Calamus 22

The scenes are not taken only in one place, but in towns, cities and villages in Vojvodina. People in the video are some of my closest friends and family as well as people I’ve just met. They are of all ages, of different nations,  because there are no discriminations to people who can significantly alter you life. That stranger who can mean the world to you could be…just ANYONE.

–but Walt, did you ever consider how fluid and strong and beautiful all of these words would sound… in Serbian?

Sati protiču dugi, mučni i teški,

Sati u suton, kada se povlačim na neko osamljeno i

Pusto mjesto, sjedam, naslanjajući lice na ruke…

That is Elma Porobic’s stunning translation of the first lines of Calamus 9.  Those of you who can read Serbian will not just note her sensitive treatment of Whitman’s language, but her ear for his music.  Elma is one of my six students in “Walt Whitman: The Global Perspective”, and one of three that have chosen to absorb, translate, and interpret Calamus 9 as her final project.  Sanja Stanimirovic offers a different perspective on Whitman’s emotional opening:

Sati teku dugi, bolni i tegobni,

Sati u sumrak, kada se povlačim na neko samotno mesto, retko pohođeno, sedam i zarivam

lice u šake…

And then we have Bojana Acamovic’s nuanced reading:

Sati teku dugi, bolni, nesrećni,

Sati sutona, kada se povlačim na usamljeno i pusto mesto, kada sedam, spuštam lice u šake…

Indira Janic brings another level of meaning to Calamus 22 (later “To a Stranger”) by interpreting him using the Cyrillic alphabet:

Странче у пролазу! Ти не знаш колико те чежљиво гледам…

Neda Kosoric has diligently labored to resolve interesting questions regarding the use of gender in Serbian, in her translation of Calamus 11:

…i njegova ruka lagano prebacena preko mojih grudi,

i te noci ja bio sam srecan.

And Josip brings passion and intensity to Calamus 6 as he continues to try to wrestle down a Serbian word for a distinctively Whitmanic term:

Ne s bilo kim niti sa svima, O adhesiveness! O bȉlo mog života!

Potrebno mi je da postojiš i prikazuješ se, više no u ovim pesmama.

Dragan Purešić, Karen, Indira, Sanja, Neda, Bojana, and Elma: united we Whitmaniacs stand!

On Saturday 12 December, we were honored to welcome the esteemed translator Dragan Purešić to our classroom at the University of Novi Sad.  In addition to his crucial contributions to the success of the Serbian Book Market Project (see http://www.ceebp.org/book-market.htm for more info), Dragan has published noteworthy translations of the works of William Blake (Belgrade: Plato, 2007) as well as Walt Whitman (Belgrade: Plato, 2008).  He presented us with a memorable lecture on the art of translation, describing some of the challenges he faced when interpreting Whitman’s words for the Serbian people.  “The poem is an artistic entity,” he reminded us.  “The translator is both an artist and an artisan.”  Quoting freely and fluidly from works as wide-ranging as Lessing’s “Laocoon” and “The Godfather Part III”, he charged us with the significance and the perils of our task at hand.  And he inspired us.  “Blessed be the messengers,” he said.  Whitman sounds really good, really true and beautiful, in Serbian.

Ringed round by Dragans: Whitman's women (don't forget Indira, behind the lens!)

Dragan then led a translation workshop (which was further enhanced by the contribution of Novi Sad faculty members Vladislava Gordic Petkovic, Ivana Djuric, and Aleksandra Izgarjan).  We pored over Whitman’s language: what’s the connotative difference between being “content” and “happy”, as we see these terms used in Calamus 9 and 11?  What is behind the unusual statement “I am to wait” at the end of Calamus 22, and how can one achieve that feeling in Serbian?  And when Whitman asks, “I wonder if other men ever have the like” (Calamus 9), does the use of  the idea of  ‘mankind’ deny the poem’s true meaning or enhance its applicability?  Dragan offered suggestions and asked thoughtful questions of all of us; all of us responded and questioned our own understandings of Whitman’s words and intentions.

We strolled out of Classroom 37 three hours later, with full hearts and minds.  You see, Dragan knows Walt Whitman.   He ‘gets’ the poet in a fluid and intuitive way, in addition to possessing a finessed scholarly knowledge of  Whitman’s life and work.  And Dragan communicated his love and understanding for Whitman to us with honesty and passion, encouraging and helping shape our responses to these elusive Calamus poems.

In a few weeks, you will be able to listen to my students’ final versions of their Calamus translations on our “video map” (just swing the pointer a bit east of Walt’s usual stomping-grounds).  You, too, will be able to enjoy the benefits of Dragan’s sensitive tutelage– as channeled by this outstanding, unforgettable collective of new Serbian Whitmaniacs.

Hvala, Dragan! Vidimo se, Josip, Indira, Elma, Bojana, Sanja, Neda, and faithful right-hand man Dragan!

…I ostavlja vama da dokazujete i određujete,

I glavne stvari očekuje od vas.

(the rousing challenge of “Poets to Come”, as delivered by Walt Whitman and Dragan Purešić)

“Hours continuing long” is the eight poem of the twelve poem sequence Live Oak, with Moss, that Whitman wrote some time in the period between 1856 (second edition of the Leaves of Grass) and 1859, when the poems were ‘neatly copied’ in a notebook  by the abovementioned title. The sequence tells of the love affair that the poet had with another man and was never published; instead, Whitman tore it apart into individual poems, revised some of them and shuffled them and included them among the other poems of the 1860 Calamus cluster.

As for the reason why Whitman did this, the reasons are still in the vague area of speculations. There exist many theories concerning this issue, yet nothing can be claimed for sure. In any case, the poems were scattered around the Calamus cluster, which indicates that they were important for Whitman, but they were so jumbled, which further indicates that he had his reasons why he wanted to obscure the narrative behind the sequence. Without going further into the motives for this specific treatment of the poems, the fact remains that they were ‘hidden’ among the other Calamus poems for a long time – for nearly a century – until Fredson Bowers found a connection between the poems, while working n the Valentine Collection of Whitman’s manuscripts, now the property of the University of Virginia (then the property of Clifton Waller Barrett (Parker, Hershel) and reconstructed the sequence. He published his findings in Studies in Bibliography in 1953, and then in Whitman’s Manuscripts: Leaves of Grass (1860):A Parallel Text  in 1955. After that, the sequence was mainly neglected until 1990s.

“Hours continuing long” is, as I have already mentioned, the eight poem of the Live Oak, with Moss, which in 1860 edition of Leaves of Grass became Calamus nine. It is a bleak, dark poem which deals, among other things, with the aftermath of the love affair that ended badly.  The affair here mentioned, Alan Helms claims, was with one Fred Vaughn, a young man who lived with Whitman in early 1850s and their break up had a very strong influence on the poet.

Calamus 9 had a fairly strange destiny, even when compared with the already strange destinies of the other poems of the sequence. Firstly, it was not revised – the 1860 version of the poem that appeared in the Leaves is identical with the 1859 manuscript version. Whitman changed nothing for the purpose of publication, which is not case with most of the other poems of the sequence. On the other hand, he did not really need to, because the 1860 edition was the only one that contained the ”Hours continuing long”. After the third edition, Whitman decided to exclude the poem from all the subsequent editions, and the motives for such an act remained a mystery even today.

Even though the “Hours continuing long” have not been given the same kind of ‘publicity’ as some of the other poems of Whitman’s ,  I think it lends itself to interpretation, and I find it indicative of the linguistic, cultural and emotional issues that had a profound impact on Whitman’s poetics

Seeing double? It’s not the holiday punch– it’s Darrel Ford, Whitman’s living doppelganger.

PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I
look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking,
(It comes to me, as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with
you,
All is recalled as we flit by each other, fluid, affec-
tionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me, or a girl
with me,
I ate with you, and slept with you—your body has
become not yours only, nor left my body mine
only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as
we pass—you take of my beard, breast, hands,
in return,
I am not to speak to you—I am to think of you
when I sit alone, or wake at night alone,

I am to wait—I do not doubt I am to meet you
again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Странцу

Странче у ПРОЛАЗУ! Ти не знаш колико те чежљиво гледам,

Ти мора да си онај којег сам тражио или она коју сам тражио (дође ми као у сну,)

Негде сам сигурно живео радостан живот с тобом,

Сећање се вратило док се мимоилазимо, непостојани, нежни, чедни, сазрели,

Одрастао си са мном, био дечак са мном или девојчица са мном,

Јео сам са тобом и спавао са тобом – твоје тело је постало не твоје само и моје тело није остало моје само,

Уживам у твојим очима, лицу, телу док се мимоилазимо, а ти у мојој бради, недрима, шакама заузврат,

Ја не треба да говорим са тобом – ја треба да мислим на тебе када седим сам или кад се будим ноћз сам,

Ја треба да чекам – ја не сумњам да треба да те сретнем опет,

Ја треба да се постарам да те не изгубим.

This is just a draft version, but it was a great challenge  to translate Whitman’s poetry. It is even more interesting to see him written in Cyrillic! Some of the problems I encountered was the translation of the construction I am to. The to infinitive could be regarded as a future action (like will) as well as an imperative mood (instead of should), the trouble was to decide what Walt wanted to say. Maybe someone out there has some suggestions?

History of Calamus 22

First time the poem To a Stranger was presented to a reading audience was in a 1860 edition of “Leaves of Grass”, under the name of Calamus 22. From that very edition down to the last “Death-bed” edition the form of the poem hasn’t changed much. Or should I better say that there are no striking changes…

There are a few dashes in this first publication of the Calamus poems, and Whitman decided to change this when he published his Calamus poems for the fourth time in the 1881-82 edition of “Leaves of Grass”.  The dashes made really nice pauses, almost like they’re saying “don’t stop now, wait ’till you hear this!”. Walt Whitman was a true visualistic person, so other than giving the poem a good rhythm, it also looked good.

The whole word passing at the beginning of the poem is capitalized, and I like the way this gives importance to the fact that he is just passing by. It is giving meaning to the moment, emphasizing that things are passing right by, that we have to stop and think, seaze the moment. Carpe diem! It also presents a classical romantic idea that everyone have their pair somewhere in the world. And like the legend says we are ment to look for that other part of us for eternity. The period of Whitman’s life and love with Fred Vaughan, his first known lover, was quite influential on his poetry at that time. He was just opening up, expressing his true feelings for the first time, not hiding anything. Completely exposed.