{"id":80429,"date":"2014-12-04T11:25:37","date_gmt":"2014-12-04T16:25:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=80429"},"modified":"2014-12-10T14:20:21","modified_gmt":"2014-12-10T19:20:21","slug":"is-there-a-vespa-an-interview-with-michael-hofmann","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2014\/12\/04\/is-there-a-vespa-an-interview-with-michael-hofmann\/","title":{"rendered":"Is There a Vespa?: An Interview with Michael Hofmann"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_80433\" style=\"width: 610px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/hofmann-michael-c-thomas-andenmatten.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-80433\" class=\"wp-image-80433\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/hofmann-michael-c-thomas-andenmatten.jpg\" alt=\"Hofmann, Michael (C) Thomas Andenmatten\" width=\"600\" height=\"579\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/hofmann-michael-c-thomas-andenmatten.jpg 1000w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/hofmann-michael-c-thomas-andenmatten-300x289.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-80433\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Photo \u00a9 Thomas Andenmatten<\/p><\/div>\n<p><em>Michael Hofmann\u2019s first collection of poems, <\/em>Nights in the Iron Hotel<em>, came in 1984, and in the ensuing thirty years he has translated more than sixty novels from the German and published five more poetry collections, along the way collecting numerous prizes for his work. He is the editor of an anthology, <\/em>Twentieth-Century German Poetry<em>, and in 2002 published a collection of critical essays, <\/em>Behind the Lines<em>. (This is far from a comprehensive accounting.) The thirty essays in his new collection, <\/em><a href=\"http:\/\/us.macmillan.com\/wherehaveyoubeen\/michaelhofmann\" target=\"_blank\">Where Have You Been?<\/a><em>, visit a range of poets, novelists, and artists of the last hundred years, including Elizabeth Bishop, Robert Lowell, Thomas Bernhard, Kurt Schwitters, and Frederick Seidel.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Hofmann\u2019s essays are intense inquiries: he tunnels deeply, engages profoundly, and whether or not he likes what he\u2019s read or seen, his essays ennoble the work under review. There\u2019s a sense of humor, even joy, electrifying the enterprise. Of course, his criticism can pulverize, too\u2014G\u00fcnter Grass and Stefan Zweig are destroyed in <\/em>Where Have You Been?<em>\u2014but most of Hofmann\u2019s selections tend toward the form of one reader grabbing another\u2019s sleeve and shouting, Come on now, this way! You\u2019ve got to see this!<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Though Hofmann doesn\u2019t keep a computer at home\u2014\u201cusual Luddite setup,\u201d he said at one point\u2014this interview was conducted over e-mail. On a couple of occasions, he wrote from a stand-up terminal in a municipal library.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><strong>You\u2019ve written that contemporary American poetry is \u201ca civil war, a banal derby between two awful teams.\u201d In Britain, it\u2019s \u201ca variety show.\u201d These are grim assessments.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Discouraging, isn\u2019t it? It\u2019s just a fact that there are never very many poets around at any given time. I think poetry is always one or two poets away from extinction anyway. If it\u2019s any comfort, it\u2019s not a living tradition\u2014it doesn\u2019t depend on being passed from hand to hand. It could easily go underground for a couple of decades, or a couple of centuries, and then return. People disappear, or never really existed at all, and then come back\u2014Propertius, H\u00f6lderlin, Dickinson, B\u00fcchner, Smart. Poetry is much more about remaking or realigning the past than it is about charting the contemporary scene. It\u2019s a long game. <!--more--><\/p>\n<p>Also, it\u2019s not about extent, never about extent, not about numbers or range or choice. It\u2019s not a supermarket. You can\u2019t roam around, and read <em>x<\/em> on one day, and <em>a<\/em> the second, and <em>b<\/em> the third, not if you have taste and take it with you everywhere. It\u2019s a condition of poetry that you can\u2019t read everyone. What is it Lowell\u2019s Harriet says\u2014 \u201cYou can\u2019t love everyone\u2014your heart won\u2019t let you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s about depth, and what you find in it. The question isn\u2019t, Who would I like to read now for the first time? It\u2019s, I have these six poets. I must have read them all a hundred times. They\u2019re just about all I read\u2014it\u2019s years since I read anyone else. Which of them do I feel like reading for the hundred-and-first?<\/p>\n<p>Whose books do you wait for? That\u2019s the question. Precious few. I\u2019m not a generalist or a charity. Who interests me? Seidel, Paulin, Solie.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Precious few.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I think there\u2019s always been an element of absence for me, of what\u2019s not there. The first thing I heard about Lowell, at a time when I was still mispronouncing his name, was that he had just died. In England, the great poets from the seventies and eighties were literally over the water\u2014they were the Northern Irish <em>pleiade<\/em> of Heaney, Longley, Mahon, Paulin, Muldoon. I read German poets, but without being in Germany when I did. Who was the greatest poet in America in the seventies and eighties? Joseph Brodsky. The spark has to fly, or is the better for flying.<\/p>\n<p>And then there\u2019s what one imports into poetry\u2014from novels, from biographies, from films, from paintings, from other, acute cultural references. For a long time, I don\u2019t think I made up a single title of my own. They were all \u201cborrowed.\u201d Poetry grows on all kinds of rubbish, as Akhmatova says. Whereas the kind of hydroponic poetry that sustains itself was always an object of horror and incredulity to me. A library with nothing but the poetry of the past two years\u2014and I\u2019ve seen them, people have them\u2014would send me round the twist.<\/p>\n<p><strong>In an essay on Kurt Schwitters, you write that \u201cbadly heard or badly reproduced music is more moving than expensive acoustic perfection can ever be.\u201d Is there a way to approach your philosophy of translation through that fragment? <\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I\u2019m thinking of a mixture of Laforgue poems\u2014some of the \u201cDimanches,\u201d maybe?\u2014and certain scenes in Joseph Roth, hurdy-gurdies, street musicians, public music, marching bands. Rimbaud\u2019s \u201cA la musique.\u201d Rilke near the beginning of the First Elegy, the violin through the open window. But it\u2019s true. You hear a snatch of something from a passing car, and you worry at it until you\u2019re able to place it, or not. Those few second instrumental shifts on NPR\u2014I\u2019ve heard this before somewhere, what is it? And then it\u2019s things like the Keep it with Mono side of Stiff Records. Lo-fi. People go to concert halls to show off their coughs. The unpampered ear does more. Once when I was in Michigan for a term, and didn\u2019t have a record player, someone in Shaman Drum put on Lloyd Cole and the Commotions, and I had to stay there browsing unobtrusively for the next forty minutes, feeling like a pervert. That\u2019s music starved, that\u2019s not bad repro. I suppose the Brit in me believes in a degree of adversity. The less than ideal. Bad weather. The ideal is often only sterile.<\/p>\n<p>As for the connection to translating, I can\u2019t offer you consistency there\u2014or necessarily anywhere else for that matter. I think Brodsky would have gone for that, and maybe Nabokov as well. Something not slick, something that betrays its noble difficulties, something that has an accent, so to speak. It\u2019s the loyalty of exile, to the past, the other, the original \u2026 It\u2019s a pleasing idea, a lovely idea, but you wouldn\u2019t want to be the party responsible for the awkward rendition. Or I wouldn\u2019t, anyway. I have a different imperative. The need to \u201cpass.\u201d The desire to make something near autonomous, deceiving, and of high quality\u2014in English. The translation as immigrant.<\/p>\n<p><strong><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/hofmann-where-have-you-been-cover.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-80438\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/hofmann-where-have-you-been-cover.jpg\" alt=\"hofmann where have you been cover\" width=\"200\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/hofmann-where-have-you-been-cover.jpg 667w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/12\/hofmann-where-have-you-been-cover-200x300.jpg 200w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><\/a>Do you think a faithful translation can be more moving than the original?<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Yes, I do. It would be like something sung by a different voice or played by a different instrument. But it\u2019d be perfectly possible for slovenly up-and-down English to offer a better home to some foreign text than the foreign language in question. And variations of the above. We had a lovely intellectual schoolmaster who told us he thought Proust was better in the Scott Moncrieff\u2014and that not from ignorance or monolingualism. Scandalous!<\/p>\n<p><strong>You don\u2019t own a TV and \u201cdon\u2019t really approve of seeing films except in cinemas.\u201d Writing about <em>The Passenger<\/em>, you describe a specific shot but note that you might have inserted a Vespa where there wasn\u2019t one. It would have been easy enough to pull up the scene and confirm your hunch, but you chose not to.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I think that\u2019s\u2014paradoxically\u2014a question of manners or acculturation. Too positive or definitive a reference, something too categorical, would just sound bossy to my fey British ear \u2026 It feels courteous to leave some room for error or inaccuracy\u2014which I\u2019m going to need anyway! It\u2019s difficult\u2014I\u2019m too old to rely on my memory, and far too old to have adapted to Google\u2019s exomemory facility. I like the chiaroscuro of a little measure of uncertainty. Is there a Vespa? I think there might be. It would be good if there were one. Maybe not.<\/p>\n<p>You\u2019re condemned to permanent rereading anyway. You can do mathematics on a blank sheet of paper. For literature\u2014criticism\u2014you need a full one. (Unless you\u2019re Auerbach, who had memorized the texts he wrote about.) I have a memory that reduces a poem to three or four discrete lines or half lines. <i>Greatest Hits<\/i>, and nothing over ten seconds. Maybe that\u2019s why I like Lowell so\u2014he looks particularly good like that. Some people\u2019s memories are like abundantly furnished rooms. Mine is liked a half-wrecked carpenter\u2019s shop.<\/p>\n<p><strong>As you worked on the arrangement of these essays, did they communicate with each other in ways you hadn\u2019t expected?<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Yes, in a kind of call-and-echo. It may appear to be negatively conditioned\u2014a narrowness of reference\u2014and I\u2019d have to accept that, except that there\u2019s also a perfectly reckless and deliberate cross-referring. Take the end of the last piece, on Robert Walser. There\u2019s a reference to a line from another one of my subjects, John Berryman\u2014\u201cThe Bach-Gesellschaft girdles the world.\u201d Now, I could quite easily have left that out, and it would probably have had the effect of making me seem even more learned, but I wanted to leave it in. The book doesn\u2019t have an index, but I\u2019d be surprised if there are many people or works that appear in it just once. So the effect is something like that of a carousel or a big wheel. \u201cUnd dann und wann ein weisser Elefant!\u201d the Rilke line. It\u2019s an Ark or a biotope. \u201cMeet my critters.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><strong>This is a complicated, essential, idea\u2014\u201cI translate to try to amount to something \u2026 To repair a deficit of literature in my life.\u201d What do you mean?<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>That goes back to a feeling of inadequacy I\u2019ve had really forever, since I got my first copy of my first book of poems in my hands, and it felt like an airmail letter. If I flipped it up in the air, I thought it might never come back to me. My father was a novelist, so it\u2019s bred into my fingers to expect a little more heft from a book, something a little thicker in the way of a spine. If Kafka hadn\u2019t said it, then I would say it\u2014\u201cliterature, from which, or out of which I am composed.\u201d Perhaps I\u2019ll say it anyway, echoing Kafka. When my father\u2019s first book appeared, I was twenty-one or so. I called it his firstborn, in a poem written not long after. We defer to print, where I\u2019m from. Quite soon, I\u2019ll be like <a href=\"http:\/\/commons.wikimedia.org\/wiki\/File:Arcimboldo_Librarian_Stokholm.jpg\" target=\"_blank\">that Arcimboldo painting<\/a>, all book.<\/p>\n<p><em>Jack Livings is the author of a collection of stories, <\/em><a href=\"http:\/\/www.indiebound.org\/book\/9780374178536?aff=theparisreview\">The Dog<\/a><em>, published earlier this year. The <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/fiction\/5504\/the-dog-jack-livings\">title story<\/a> originally appeared in <\/em>The Paris Review<em>, where he has also published interviews with<\/em> <em><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/interviews\/5391\/the-art-of-fiction-no-183-tobias-wolff\">Tobias Wolff<\/a> and <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/interviews\/5531\/the-art-of-fiction-no-186-salman-rushdie\">Salman Rushdie<\/a><\/em>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Michael Hofmann\u2019s first collection of poems, Nights in the Iron Hotel, came in 1984, and in the ensuing thirty years he has translated more than sixty novels from the German and published five more poetry collections, along the way collecting numerous prizes for his work. He is the editor of an anthology, Twentieth-Century German Poetry, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":772,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[907],"tags":[478,13497,364,1132,15148,1768,46,7221,165,630,8197,530,16263,16262],"class_list":["post-80429","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-at-work","tag-criticism","tag-essayists","tag-essays","tag-interviews","tag-karen-solie","tag-michael-hofmann","tag-music","tag-poems","tag-poetry","tag-robert-lowell","tag-stefan-zweig","tag-translation","tag-vespas","tag-where-have-you-been"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.4 (Yoast SEO v25.4) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>An Interview with Michael Hofmann<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"The critic and poet discusses his 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