“She is not just a poet but also a serious thinker about cultural studies, cultural issues, pop culture, the influence of high literature and also popular literature and music on a population.”
“She’s also very feminist in a very interesting way,” Goodman says. “A lot of her poems are love poems about failed love. She writes about makeup, about getting her hair done, about fashion.” Fung [sic.], she argues, focuses on these “quintessentially girly or feminine or seemingly frivolous sort of things” and uses them to discuss “how women function in society and how women think and feel and reflect on their own lives.”
On 1–2 June 2018, an international group of scholars will meet at Leiden University to discuss fifteen papers that bring together expert knowledge on poetry in Chinese and critical engagement with the notion of translation. Texts, authors, and issues discussed range from the ancient Book of Songs to 21st-century migrant worker poetry and from Yu Xiuhua in English to Paul Celan in Chinese. The papers highlight the richness of the study of interlingual and cultural translation, with Chinese poetry as a shining example.
The workshop is open to all and you are welcome to attend any or all of the presentations.
Attending the workshop will be Joseph Allen, Lucas Klein, Nicholas Morrow Williams, Zhou Min, Tara Coleman, Chris Song, Christopher Lupke, Jenn Marie Nunes, Liansu Meng, Joanna Krenz, Jacob Edmond, Eleanor Goodman, Nick Admussen, Rui Kunze, Maghiel van Crevel, and Wilt Idema.
Click the image for further information, including a full schedule with paper titles.
The new issue of Cha: An Asian Literary Journal is now live, and with it my translations of two new poems by Duo Duo 多多, “A Fine Breeze Comes” 好风来 and “Light Coming from Before, Sing: Leave” 从前来的光，唱：离去.
tomorrow’s already past
the past is still unknown
already spokenthe limit belongs to you
nobody can have that name明天已经过去
The 2018 Best Translated Book Award longlists in fiction and poetry have been announced–and Eleanor Goodman’s translation Iron Moon: An Anthology of Chinese Worker Poetry is one of the candidates!
Michael Berry’s translation of Remains of Life 餘生, by Wu He 舞鶴, also made the longlist in fiction.
Click the image for the full lists.
Nine Dragon Island: Eleanor Goodman and Lucas Klein
Date: Wednesday 28 March 2018
Time: 7:30 – 8:45 p.m.
Venue: Kubrick Bookshop & Café
(Shop H2, Cinema Block, Prosperous Garden, 3 Public square street, Yau Ma Tei, Kowloon 3號駿發花園 H2地舖)
FREE ADMISSION | ALL ARE WELCOME
In this Cha Reading Series event, contributors Eleanor Goodman and Lucas Klein will discuss poetry, translation, and the writing of China—alongside readings from their recent and forthcoming books, including Goodman’s Nine Dragon Island (Enclave/Zephyr, 2016) and Iron Moon: Chinese Worker Poetry (White Pine, 2017), and Klein’s October Dedications: The Selected Poetry of Mang Ke (Zephyr, 2018) and translations of Li Shangyin (NYRB, 2018). Moderated by Cha co-editor Tammy Ho Lai-Ming.
Click the image above for the Facebook registration page.
Join a panel of leading translators, scholars of contemporary Chinese poetry, and translation theorists for a conversation about the state of the art in 2018. Discussion will highlight Chinese poets whose work challenges conceptions of a literary “mainstream,” in particular with respect to gender, class, and economic inequality.
Panelists Huiyi Bao 包慧怡 (Fudan), Eleanor Goodman (Harvard Fairbank Center for Chinese Studies), Lucas Klein (University of Hong Kong) and Kyoo Lee (City University of New York) will share and discuss their work in translation and in critical scholarship, ranging from the work of a pioneer of contemporary Chinese poetry like Mang Ke 芒克, co-founder of the legendary journal Jintian 今天 (1978-1980); to the workers poetry written and shared by migrant laborers across China today; to the vital writing by women in a cultural field often dominated by male poets and critics.
- Room 101, 1555 Century Avenue
- Wednesday, March 14, 2018 16:30 – 18:00
Click the image above for registration & more information.
During the last election cycle, the American working class got a lot of airplay. Donald Trump’s rhetoric was a throwback to a different era of politics and a different economy. Talk of American workers often included overt and coded criticism of China, which was portrayed as a villainous and devious nation that had stolen jobs from deserving Americans. Of course, the Asian workers (many of whom are not Chinese) who were supposedly responsible for America’s declining fortunes were never mentioned.
In the past, American labor movements produced literature that was both popular and politically effective. Books like The Jungle exposed working conditions and pressed for egalitarian politics. It may feel dated today, but it raises an interesting question: What would popular working class literature look like in another context? What if The Jungle were written in an iPhone factory?
Covering poetry and fiction from China, Taiwan, Japan, Korea, Indonesia, India, and the Philippines, for Chinese poetry he highlights the anthology of workers’ poetry, Iron Moon, translated by Eleanor Goodman. He says:
Considering that these worker-poets often have very little formal education (and not a lot of time on their hands), the high quality of the work here points to one obvious conclusion: There are a lot of good poets in China. More notable, however, is that they exist outside of China’s professional system of writers, just as their jobs put them outside of the usual trajectories of professional advancement. A lot of us could learn something from these individuals about solidarity—as well as about writing.
Click on the image for his full list.
Is Xu Zhimo 徐志摩 (1897 – 1931) unknown outside China? In advance of an event at New York’s Renwen Society at the China Institute (now passed) in honor of Xu’s 120th birthday–which was “conducted in Chinese, with no interpretation“–Eleanor Goodman considered for SupChina whether that should be the case.
His most famous poem, “Another Farewell to Cambridge” (再别康桥 Zàibié Kāngqiáo, commonly translated as “Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again,” though there are many translations for this title) is a paean to the River Cam in Cambridge, where he spent a year at King’s College. It begins (translation mine):
Quietly I go,
As quietly as I came;
Quietly I wave
farewell to the western clouds.
The golden willow by the banks
is the bride of the setting sun.
Reflections shimmer on the water
and ripple through my mind.
In the poem “By Chance” (偶然 Ǒurán) he writes (my translation again):
I am a cloud in the sky,
that shadows your stirred heart by chance.
No need for you to feel surprise,
still less to be delighted,
in a flash, every trace of me will be gone.
So it seems. Xu wrote what he lived, and lived what he wrote. To be reminded by these poems of Keats or of Shelley (“I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, / From the seas and the streams; / I bear light shade for the leaves when laid / In their noonday dreams”) is right on target. These Western poets were a direct influence on the Crescent Moon Society, and their Romanticism — a reliance on natural images, gestures toward the sublime, an emphasis on individual sensual experience — became the main model for this innovative group of Chinese poets, Xu primary among them.
Goodman is right, of course, about Xu’s significance to modern Chinese literary history, but I admit I’ve never grieved over his being unknown in English–until now, that is. Reading these fragments of Goodman’s translations, I’m almost ready to change my mind.
Click on the image above to read the piece in full.