Sunday, October 25, 2015

Nihonbashi: East Meets West, 1603 Meets 1924, Ieyasu Tokugawa Meets Sinclair Lewis

Nihonbashi: East Meets West, 1603 Meets 1924,
Ieyasu Tokugawa Meets Sinclair Lewis
Rusty Allred
At one time there existed a land bridge between what are now Korea and Siberia. Though artifacts establish human activity there as early as 30,000 BCE, a unique culture (Jomon) developed around 10,000 BCE and lasted for thousands of years before being displaced by the Yayoi culture, the precursor to modern Japanese culture, by the third millennium BCE[1].
It was around the time of the beginnings of this Yayoi culture that the Kanto Plain, of which Tokyo is a part, is first known to have been inhabited. One village was called Hirakawa-mura (Hirakawa Village) which was formed along the Hirakawa River that ran through what is now Tokyo[2].
Around the 12th century of the Common Era, Shigenaga Edo[3], a military governor of the region, built Edo Castle in this area[4]. This is how the town that would become Tokyo came first to be called Edo[5]. This castle was rebuilt in 1456 by Dokan Ota3 who was also responsible for the rerouting of some of the rivers flowing in the area. Indeed, the Hirakawa River was rerouted out of existence at that time[6], though Hirakawa-cho is still the name of a section of central Tokyo[7].
In olden times the capital of Japan moved with the various emperors, though the Kyoto-Osaka region contained the capital for more than a millennium from 794 until 1868[8]. Warlord Hideyoshi Toyotomi, who also operated in that region, sent Ieyasu Tokugawa to the Kanto region in 1590. He needed Tokugawa’s services there, and probably wanted to have this able and ambitious general safely away from his home base. Arriving in that region, Tokugawa selected Edo as his headquarters.
After Toyotomi’s death Tokugawa defeated his rival Mitusnari Ishida and became the most powerful feudal lord, setting up a central government in Edo in 1603.
Tokugawa had been making improvements in Edo since his arrival. In 1603, the year he became Shogun, his workers constructed a bridge called Nihonbashi or two-lane bridge. Over time the characters used to write the name were changed such that, though still called Nihonbashi, it now meant Japan Bridge and there emerged the explanation that this was the bridge connecting Edo with the rest of Japan[9].
Interestingly, the waterway crossed by this bridge originally had no name, so it came to be called the Nihonbashi River, after the bridge itself. This man-made river had been constructed as the original rivers were rerouted[10], which might explain its previous anonymity.
Business built up around the bridge and this part of Edo came to also share the name Nihonbashi. Eventually this would become a key business district in Tokyo. These entities all still exist: the Nihonbashi bridge (though not the original construction), the Nihonbashi River, and a Nihonbashi section of town in today’s financial district.
By around 1700 Edo had become the largest city in the world. Ieyasu Tokuawa died at the age of 75 in 1616, but his heirs went on to extend the Tokugawa family rule to a period of over 260 years.
While the Tokugawas ruled Japan from Edo, Osaka, where the emperor still lived, remained the official capital until the Meji Resoration in 1868 when Tokugawa’s heir peacefully handed power to the new government, the emperor moved to Edo, and the city was renamed Tokyo, or eastern capital.
During World War II the central part of Tokyo was heavily bombed by the Allies. Scars from the subsequent fires can still be seen in this area today, though much of the city has been rebuilt.
In spite of all that, in 1942 and 1943 Tohkadoh, a publisher then operating in Nihonbashi, published as a three volume set Chouju Ugai’s translation of Sinclair Lewis’s Arrowsmith (1924). Whether he really believed this, or was trying to justify his translation of an American novel at this time in history, in the afterword to Volume 2, Ugai explained that knowledge gained through their literature would help to defeat the enemy[11].
Shortly after the war the translation was apparently republished by Kawade[12] which had also been operating in Nihonbashi. Perhaps they acquired Tohkadoh, or at least the rights to this work. During the war, Kawade moved from its Nihonbashi location due to bomb damage to its facilities[13]. It has since been located across town in the Shibuya-Shinjuku area.
Had Sinclair Lewis ever gone to Japan he would have missed Ieyasu Tokugawa by several hundred years, and even the Tokugawa Shogunate by a number of decades. Nevertheless, Nihonbashi is the place where his story merges with theirs, at least in the mind and heart of this author.




[3] Much of the English language literature uses Japanese names in their original form – surname followed by given name. But this seems to lead to confusion in some sources as to which name is which. For this reason, I have used the Western form – given name followed by surname – for all names.
[6] Jinnai, H., Tokyo, a Spatial Anthropology, University of California Press, August 23, 1995, pp. 70-71.
[10] Jinnai, H., Tokyo, a Spatial Anthropology, University of California Press, 1995, ISBN-13: 978-0520071353.
[11] Allred, “Japanese Adventures with Sinclair Lewis,” Sinclair Lewis Society Newsletter, Fall 2004.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Why Not Just Re-translate?

I've been asked a number of times since starting this work why I don't just do a fresh translation. The answer is multi-faceted:

1) I think the Ugai translation deserves to be preserved, but preserving it in its current state will leave it increasingly inaccessible to future readers. Yes, besides being dated, it does have some errors, but so would a fresh translation. By careful comparison of the translation with the original, perhaps my edit of Ugai's translation can be more error free than either of us could have done alone.

2) Ordinarily a translator translates into his strongest language. That would be English in my case. I thought by updating a work written by a native speaker of Japanese, I could rely on his overall use of language. This, it turns out, is more difficult than I imagined. Due to the errors I'm finding, I do end up creating sentences from scratch. Still, most sentences in the book will be grammatically what Ugai wrote, with words and characters updated as needed.

By the way, there is a very good, modern translation of Arrowsmith (Trans. Tadashi Uchino, People of the World Library, Shogakkan, 1997.) which doesn't appear to rely upon Ugai at all. The primary problem with this work is that it's a severe abridgment and simplification. Had that translator and publisher provided the entire work in Japanese, the impetus to do what I'm doing would be much less.


Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Humorous Tidbits

Look, I'm not poking fun at the translation. Rather, I admire it so much that I'm devoting a great deal of time to it. But that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun with it along the way:

a) Toward the end of Chapter 1, Doc is regaling Martin with the war stories of the frontier doctor. In one such story he says that he performed the first appendectomy in "this neck of the woods." In Japanese this came out to say that he did the operation at "the mouth of the forest." (Though translating into one's native language provides a better written document, typically, it does leave the translator vulnerable to missing some idioms. That's OK; I can help.)

b) Near the end of Chapter 2, Ira is sermonizing about the evils of smoking when he says "that 67.9 per cent of all women who go to the operating table have husbands who smoke tobacco." 

To this Cliff responds, "What the devil would they smoke?" In the Japanese translation this came out to be "What in the world was this tobacco they were smoking?"

c) At the beginning of Section 4 in Chapter 3 we meet Madeline who is taking a graduate course in English "to avoid going back home." The translator calls her an "exchange student" who is taking the graduate course to avoid "returning to her country." (Perhaps the translator had difficulty seeing that someone could be in their native US and still not be home?)

d) Toward the end of Section 6 in Chapter 3, in a religious argument with Ira, Martin has likened Gottlieb's laboratory work to prayer. To this Cliff volunteers "I'll bet I get the pants took off me ... if Pa Gottlieb catches me praying during experiment hours." Somehow this came out to be "I wouldn't complain if I got the pants taken right off of me."

More to come...

What I'm Up To

I've been tinkering with Japanese translations of Lewis' work for the past decade or so, and have written about some of them in the Sinclair Lewis Society Newsletter (S2003, F2004, F2005).

Recently my focus has again landed on Ugai's 1941 Japanese translation of Arrowsmith. The language in this work is very dated, so much so that I don't think it would be enjoyable reading material for an ordinary Japanese person, even if the work were reprinted and readily available.

So, I have undertaken the project of modernizing the language of this translation. If I'm keeping an accurate count, your questions at about this point would be as follows:

1) Why is the 1924 original English edition still linguistically accessible and the 1941 Japanese version not? (That is, why did Japanese change faster than English?)

2) Why's some non-native Japanese guy doing this work, rather than a native person?

3) Aren't there any modern translations?

4) Oh, and, if not, why not just re-translate rather than updating an old translation?

I don't know all the answers, but I know some of them, and have ideas on the others. These are the sorts of questions I intend to discuss in the blog, along with additional information about what I'm finding in the work itself.

By the way, I'm currently working in Chapter 6, and have so far added over fifty footnotes with corrections to the original. Some of them are minor. But I want the new version to be not only modern, but also accurate. I'll keep you posted.

Monday, October 19, 2015

Martin Arrowsmith & The Case of The Brass Band

At the end of the second paragraph in Arrowsmith Chapter 3 Section 1, we read that "Dr. Robertshaw was working up to his annual climax about the effects of brass bands on the intensity of the knee-jerk."

I recently discovered that "brass bands" from this passage was rendered as "strips of brass" in Ugai's 1941 Japanese translation.

Thinking this was surely a mistake, I took to Google to see if there might be any justification for it in the medical literature. Amazingly, I did find a medical paper that relates strips of brass to the knee-jerk. The article described an apparatus that recorded the reaction using a mallet to strike the brass! But this work took place somewhat after the publication of Arrowsmith, and, doesn't it just seem too obscure to have been used without further description?

I Googled again, this time using much of the direct quote from Arrowsmith, just to see what would surface. To my delight, I found this book: Davenport, H. W., Not Just Any Medical School: The Science, Practice, and Teaching of Medicine at the University of Michigan, 1850-1941, University of Michigan Press, 1986.

Davenport also quotes Arrowsmith along with descriptions of the work and character of Warren Plimpton Lombard (1855 - 1939) who, as it turns out, must certainly be the model Lewis used for the character of Robertshaw. It also explains that Lombard was studying the knee-jerk one day when a brass band began playing in the park outside, so he studied the reaction both when the band was playing, and when it was not.

One never knows what lurks beneath the scene.