(While I have co-translated Alice into Konkani, this article is not about my
translation. This post is adapted from my essay published in Alice in a World of Wonderlands Vol I, published by Oak Knoll Press, USA, in 2015)
The
mid-nineteenth century in India witnessed the growth of written children’s
literature in English and Indian languages. Most of these early publications
comprised Bible stories, textbooks, or translations of Western classics. One
such translation was of Alice’s
Adventures in Wonderland into Konkani by Suresh Kakodkar in 1970 and was titled
अेलीस आनी ताचो अप्रूप संवसार [Elis and her Topsy Turvy World].
Lacking a script of its own, Konkani is
written in five different scripts: Devanagari, Kannada, Malayalam, Arabic, and
Romi/Roman. Konkani speakers use several dialects influenced by different
languages, including Marathi, Portuguese, Kannada, and Malayalam, and the religion
they belong to, including Hinduism, Islam, or Christianity. As a result, the Konkani
literary language is still relatively undeveloped.
Alice in Wonderland is a book that is enjoyed
both by adults and children, as evidenced by the Alice Fan Clubs that thrive in several countries. When my son was five years old, his favourite
bedtime reading was Carroll’s Alice. However,
when I read a few Indian translations,
I was intrigued to see that the translators had carried out their task within
a didactic framework, and attempted to remove several subversive elements in Alice to make the translated text “suitable”
for “Indian” children.
Carroll’s belief
that childhood is burdened with schoolwork, as expressed in Alice’s fears— “‘but
then – always to have lessons to learn! Oh, I shouldn’t like that!’”—did not meet with the
translator’s approval, and he deleted this statement. Carroll’s satirical
remark about the importance given to “book-learning,” as when Alice looks for
“a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes,” was also left out.
Similarly, when her adventures land her in a tight spot in the Rabbit’s house,
Alice wishes for a moment that she had not gone down the rabbit hole, but then
retracts, saying, “‘and yet . . . it’s rather curious, you know, this sort of
life! I do wonder what can have
happened to me! . . . There ought to be a book written about me, that there
ought!’” This sentiment was not translated either, denying the child reader an opportunity
to imagine, to desire adventure, to even envision the possibility of being in
one.
Kakodkar’s Alice
is a passive girl to whom things happen, while Carroll’s Alice learns to think
for herself and to anticipate events. She drinks from the bottle at the
Rabbit’s house, saying to herself, “‘I know something
interesting is sure to happen . . . So I’ll just see what this bottle does’”;
but in Kakodkar’s translation, Alice drinks automatically without concerning
herself about possible consequences. “She examined it closely. Neither ‘Eat me’
nor ‘Drink me’ was written on it. She uncapped it and held the bottle to her
lips” (my back translation). The child that Kakodkar writes for is expected to
be rather prim and proper, studious and polite to elders, unlike the young Crab,
who snaps, “‘Hold your tongue, Ma! . . . You’re enough to try the patience of
an oyster!’”—this outburst was not translated either.
In the chapter
“Pig and Pepper,” the Duchess sings a lullaby which begins, “‘Speak roughly to
your little boy, And beat him when he sneezes.’” But in India, the male child
is valued greatly, and therefore, instead of translating this lullaby, Kakodkar
chose to use a different song which praises the child’s beauty rather than
talks of inflicting violence.
Alice
is a culture-specific text and has references to English sea-side towns,
English history, local food, poetry, etc. Since Konkani has not been
extensively used as a medium of instruction in schools, its vocabulary has not
expanded to include objects, concepts, and ideas that are not part of Konkani
culture. For instance, Kakodkar calls the footmen “sepoys,” a term used to
refer to Indian soldiers of junior rank serving in the British Army. In
Carroll’s book, the conversation between the Rabbit and his gardener and other
servants makes use of different speech forms arising from the class status of
the speaker. Kakodkar either left out large parts of this conversation or used
indirect speech to report it. A possible reason for this is that dialects in
Konkani vary depending on the religion or geographical location of the speaker.
Equating religion or location with class would be unfair and politically
incorrect.
While Carroll
concludes each chapter by hinting at the events to follow, thereby exciting the
child’s curiosity and desire to read further, Kakodkar consistently left out this
last bit of every chapter. Each chapter in the translation concludes with a
particular event, and the reader has no idea of what is to follow and may not
want to read on. It is as if the child’s imagination is being repressed instead
of being stimulated, in line with the educational system of the time.
However,
Kakodkar’s attempt to partially domesticate the story reflects the importance
given to family, and the religious harmony that was strongly prevalent in the
1960s and ’70s. In the Konkani translation, the Mouse becomes Hundir Mama, or “Uncle Mouse,” and the
Mad Hatter is named Topey Mama, or
“The Uncle with the Hat.”
A children’s book
reflects its writer’s and society’s construct of childhood, and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is thus
transformed in this translation to match adult notions of what childhood should
be.
(The images are taken from the original illustrations of John Tenniel)
No comments:
Post a Comment