Sahitya Akademi
“You’re the only writer in English, after RK Narayan and Mulk Raj Anand, to be Sahitya Akademi’s Fellows. What will you do with it?
I don’t know, yet.
Translations from bhasha into English. Could you influence a quality improvement there?
I really wonder why those translations are done and who reads them. I don’t know if there is room for me to do anything. They have a board.”
This is an excerpt from an interview with Anita Desai published in December last year. As a creator, Desai may not be happy with the level of translations available. Or maybe even with the idea of translation itself. Or with the quality of translations Sahitya Akademi publishes. Whatever may be her view, I still look for Sahitya Akademi translations. The little I know of writers like Masti, Basheer and a few other writers in regional languages has been through Akademi books I had bought at very low cost from at the annual book fairs in Chennai. One may never really be able to enjoy the beauty of a particular language or the style of the original in translation. But should that be a reason why I never get to know a regional language writer? It was painful to see Desai’s response. Probably that is an expat view and I decided to ignore it.
Last weekend I discovered a few more gems from the dusty, musty Akademi sale in Mumbai. I could count the number of visitors in that one hour I spent who eventually ended up buyers as well. But it was an enjoyable experience, and time well spent on a Saturday evening. I was thrilled to discover a copy of Kalhana’s Rajatarangini, available at 50 per cent discount. One of the most important historical and poetic works was available at the throwaway price of Rs 100. Being unskilled in the art of bargaining, I can’t imagine landing a better deal on the footpath books shops at Fountain. Reading the first few pages of Rajatarangini, I regretted not knowing Sanskrit. But not the idea of reading it in translation.
There were two other chance discoveries. Kaka Kalelkar’s ‘Jeevan Leela’, Gujarati travelogue translated into Tamil and S.L.Byrappa’s novel rendering of Mahabaratha translated from Kannada to English. Both the books have introduced me to two interesting authors. Now, I look forward to more of Akademi translations than less of it. Unfortunately, the Akademi is not a savvy publisher pushing its books through leading book stores. Despite its size and importance, its books are not reviewed widely and it is the Penguins and Harper Collins that grab print space, thanks to a well established marketing machinery. It would be sad if Akademi is downsized, right sized, encouraged not to carry out translations (it published originals and translations in 20 languages) any more. On the way back from the exhibition loaded with bright green Sahitya Akademi bags, a collage student asked me what is the Akademi and what kind of books it publishes – “they publish Sanksrit books?” she asked. That doesn’t take away the importance of keeping the Akademi alive and commercially viable, instead of questioning its relevance.
I don’t know, yet.
Translations from bhasha into English. Could you influence a quality improvement there?
I really wonder why those translations are done and who reads them. I don’t know if there is room for me to do anything. They have a board.”
This is an excerpt from an interview with Anita Desai published in December last year. As a creator, Desai may not be happy with the level of translations available. Or maybe even with the idea of translation itself. Or with the quality of translations Sahitya Akademi publishes. Whatever may be her view, I still look for Sahitya Akademi translations. The little I know of writers like Masti, Basheer and a few other writers in regional languages has been through Akademi books I had bought at very low cost from at the annual book fairs in Chennai. One may never really be able to enjoy the beauty of a particular language or the style of the original in translation. But should that be a reason why I never get to know a regional language writer? It was painful to see Desai’s response. Probably that is an expat view and I decided to ignore it.
Last weekend I discovered a few more gems from the dusty, musty Akademi sale in Mumbai. I could count the number of visitors in that one hour I spent who eventually ended up buyers as well. But it was an enjoyable experience, and time well spent on a Saturday evening. I was thrilled to discover a copy of Kalhana’s Rajatarangini, available at 50 per cent discount. One of the most important historical and poetic works was available at the throwaway price of Rs 100. Being unskilled in the art of bargaining, I can’t imagine landing a better deal on the footpath books shops at Fountain. Reading the first few pages of Rajatarangini, I regretted not knowing Sanskrit. But not the idea of reading it in translation.
There were two other chance discoveries. Kaka Kalelkar’s ‘Jeevan Leela’, Gujarati travelogue translated into Tamil and S.L.Byrappa’s novel rendering of Mahabaratha translated from Kannada to English. Both the books have introduced me to two interesting authors. Now, I look forward to more of Akademi translations than less of it. Unfortunately, the Akademi is not a savvy publisher pushing its books through leading book stores. Despite its size and importance, its books are not reviewed widely and it is the Penguins and Harper Collins that grab print space, thanks to a well established marketing machinery. It would be sad if Akademi is downsized, right sized, encouraged not to carry out translations (it published originals and translations in 20 languages) any more. On the way back from the exhibition loaded with bright green Sahitya Akademi bags, a collage student asked me what is the Akademi and what kind of books it publishes – “they publish Sanksrit books?” she asked. That doesn’t take away the importance of keeping the Akademi alive and commercially viable, instead of questioning its relevance.
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