The sort of fidelity Wesleyan’s reader preferred was evidently to the canon of transparency, which here includes univocal meaning and smooth prosody. But my translations aim to be faithful to the linguistic and cultural differences of the Italian texts, their characteristic discontinuity, the neologisms, syntactical shifts, staccato rhythms. The reader’s example was taken from De Angelis’s poem “Antela,” whose experimentalist gestures begin in the title: a neologism combining “antenati” (“forebears”) and “ragnatela” (“spider web”). My version is entitled “Foreweb.” The abruptness of this poem, the dizzying succession of cryptic images, would demand considerable rewriting to produce fluent English. It would be easier, as Wesleyan evidently decided, to reject the entire manuscript.
P’s anonymous reader likewise expected an assimilation of De Angelis’s experimentalism to transparent discourse. The reader’s comments on specific translations reveal an insistence on immediate intelligibility, criticizing archaism and polysemy in favor of current English usage. My use of the word “plagiary” in “The Train Corridor,” for example, was called “really obsolete and obscure.” This reader, like the one for Wesleyan, also recommended revising the Italian text, even when it contained a recognizable rhetorical device: “the discontinuity (anacoluthon) between lines 2 and 3 seems excessive, however justified by the original; a little glue seems needed.”
My translations signify the foreignness of De Angelis’s poetry by
resisting the dominant Anglo-American literary values that would
domesticate the Italian texts, make them reassuringly familiar, easy
to read. And this is the reception that the translations continue to
get. A selection was included in a 1991 anthology,
One feature that clearly distinguishes many of these poets from their British contemporaries is a freewheeling associative imagery which doesn’t feel obligated to explain itself—sudden transitions, lacunae—or to situate itself in a familiar time and place. This is at its {303} most irksome in Milo De Angelis, whom Palma, introducing him, suggests the reader should approach “with openness and sensitivity.” If this is accomplished, the reader will be “moved by feelings and insights that, however ineffable, are genuine and profound.” I did my best, but was left unmoved.