Mr. Jirair Tutunjian is an authoritative literary critic in the Armenian Diaspora. թԹ A most sought after Editor of English publications, he is also the Editor of the English Section of Dr. Dikran Aprahamianթ§Չ-Չ§s Keghart.com, the Canadian Armenian cultural website.թԹ թԹ թԹ թԹ
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The Sea Scene on My Motherթ§Չ-Չ§s DayթԹ by Hovhanness I. Pilikian, an English poem and its translation into 19 languages, Hayastan Publishers, Yerevan, Armenia, 2012
Reviewed by Jirair Tutunjian
թԹ Books with multilingual translations of poetry are not new to Armenians. However, Hovhanness I. Pilikianթ§Չ-Չ§sթԹ The Sea Scene on My Motherթ§Չ-Չ§s DayթԹ must be one for the record books; No less than translations into 19 languages of Pilikianթ§Չ-Չ§s single poem թ§Չ-Չ originally written in English թ§Չ-Չ are compiled in the book.
Concept originator and project manager was Artsvi Bakhchinian, an old hand at translating into Armenian. The translations into as diverse languages asթԹ Latvian, PeruvianթԹ Quechua, and NigerianթԹ Yoruba, in addition to a number of Middle Eastern and Oriental languages, were done by an international group composed of a music promoter, an economist, a university lecturer, a potter, gallery owner, editor, painterթ§Չ-Թ» KeepingթԹ up with the international concept of the book, the cover illustration is by Elizabeth Romhild, nթԹ.e Davidian, who lives inթԹ Bangkok.թԹ
Some of the translators include their appreciation of the poem or talk about their methodology. Some have provided their photos. Others have let the translation speak for itself. Bakhchinian explains that the inconsistency reflects Pilikianթ§Չ-Չ§s belief that poetry-books should contain some mysteriesթ§Չ-Թ» թ§Չ-ժթ§Չ-Թ» I have not harmonized or coordinated everything formally strictly with each other,թ§Չ-Թ says Bakhchinian in his introduction.թԹ
Picking on Pilikian/Bakhchinian theme, we believe poetry is a mystery. It is meant to be sung and to be heard. Poetry can die when dissected. Thus, we would let the poem speak for itself. Having said that, we would be remiss not to mention the richness of polymath Pilikianթ§Չ-Չ§s poetic language, the mythical allusions and alliterations, the neologisms, the play on words (Ho-kiss,թԹ Luce-tania,թԹ See-worthy) թ§Չ-Չ The poem, dedicated to his dying mother, is a festival of metaphorsթ§Չ-Չthe sea coast and the sea are the beginning and end of life,թԹ the father of all water was a mother tooթԹ թ§Չ-Թ»The nurse burst the shores of his temper/ Flooding me with furious oceanic anger;թԹ the last bubble of her universal breathթԹ as her soul departed Golgotha andթԹ titanic Okeanus sank my motherթ§Չ-Չ§s ship.թԹ
The poem is also full of surrealist images. One such evocative line,թԹ A funeral cortege on its way to the seasideթԹ is right out of a Federico Fellini movie. To add to the mystery and the dreamy last minutes of his mother, Pilikian has written the elegy without punctuation. It works.
The poem is a tribute and a farewell to the poetթ§Չ-Չ§s mother Tefarik. Itթ§Չ-Չ§s a resignation to and a rebellion against Death. Expressing his indignation to the Grim Reaper/Charon, Pilikian calls DeathթԹ Godթ§Չ-Չ§s very own RapistթԹ as he ends the gut-wrenching eulogy.թԹ թԹ
The mother and child relationship in Pilikian’s poem is innovative and sociologically revolutionary թ§Չ-Չ hitherto, in the cultural tradition of Anglosphere, the mother-and-child relations, under the exclusive influence of Freud and his
-isms are diseased, and sexual. թԹ In Pilikian’s world-view, they are profoundly spiritual, wholesome, not sensuous, and deeply philosophical; the Mother challenges her child to read her mind, not express an Oedipus Complex.թԹ թԹ թԹ
Interlaced with the farewell is the indomitable silence of Death. When the poet was young, Tefarik often asked him:թԹ Son, tell me, now! At this very moment, whatթ§Չ-Չ§s in my heart? How would you know it?
At his motherթ§Չ-Չ§s deathbed, the poet asks his mother the same question. The answer is that of Deathթ§Չ-Չ§s:թԹ Iթ§Չ-Չ§ve nothing to say.թԹ
Pilikian’s poem is immediately powerful and unexpectedly original, from its very first line; hence it is worth reading/hearing it in the music of some of the several languages of the translations (what we can reproduce in Roman alphabet);
I do not know if all men and women die the same way
(The English original)
Je ne sais guթԹ—re si tous les hommes et les femmes meurent de la mթԹ՝me maniթԹ—reթԹ (French, by Loussineh Shoukourian)
Ich weiss nicht, ob alle Maenner und Frauen auf gleiche Art sterben
(German, by Lorntie Jung)
Io non so se gli uomini e le donne muoiono allo stesso modo
(Italian, by Serena Ferrando)
NթԹ։o sei se todos os homens e mulheres morrem do mesmo modo
(Portuguese, by Nadia Kerecuk)
Kikin niraqtakamachus llapan qharipas, llapan warmipas waթԹ՞un, chaytaqa manam yachanichu թԹ թԹ թԹ (Peruvian Quechwa, by Nonato Rufino Chuquimamani Valer and Carmen Gladis Alosilla Morales)
Yo no sթԹ. si todos los hombres y mujeres mueren de la misma manera
(Spanish, by Jessica Luong)
Mio mo boya gbogbo okunrin ati obinrin ma nku bakana
(Nigerian-African Yoruba, by Bridget Alabi)
Maanan yachanichu, kasqallantachus llapan qharikunapas warmikunapas waթԹ՞unku թԹ թԹ (Quechwa, by Hilda CaթԹ՞ari Loaiza)
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