‘No Longer Human’ – The Donald Keene Translation

At the end of yesterday’s review of Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human, I expressed an intention to examine a few different English-language versions.  That starts today with a look at the first of them all, the translation that originally introduced us to Yōzō Ōba all those years ago.  A classic of J-Lit in translation, no doubt, but how does it hold up more than seventy years on?  There’s only one way to find out…

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Most fans of Japanese literature will recognise the simple, striking cover of the New Directions edition of No Longer Human, and what’s inside comes to you courtesy of a certain Donald Keene.  A legend of Japanese literature in translation, Keene is perhaps best known for the two anthologies he curated and contributed to, his Anthology of Japanese Literature (the classics) and Modern Japanese Literature (post Meiji restoration).  While J-Lit has obviously moved on over the past decades, the books are still available and widely read today.

Keene’s translation of Dazai’s final novel appeared in 1958, ten years after the original publication in Japanese.  In his introduction, he explains the choice of the translation’s title in a footnote:

The literal translation of the original title Ningen Shikkaku is “Disqualified as a Human Being.” I have elsewhere referred to the same novel as “The Disqualified.”
p.4 (New Directions, 1973)

The title, or a variation thereof, appears in several places in the text, and while it was a bold choice, it’s one that seems almost inevitable in hindsight.

This introduction, which appears to have been a later addition to the book (for the 1973 paperback edition, perhaps?) is marked by Keene’s focus on one main idea, namely the depiction of Western culture in Japan.  I’m not sure it’s something modern readers would even have considered, but the translator is quick to defend the writer from the accusation that his novel is not ‘Japanese enough’.  Obviously, some contemporary critics regretted the lack of cherry-blossom viewing and geishas, finding Yōzō’s pub crawls through downtown Tokyo a little seedy for their liking.

Keene also discusses the writer’s aims, including the idea of the isolation of the individual in a new age (a theme his work has in common with that of Natsume Sōseki), as well as praising Dazai’s skill:

Dazai had the creative artistry of a great cameraman.  His lens is often trained on moments of his own past, but thanks to his brilliant skill in composition and selection his photographs are not what we expect to find cluttering an album.  There is nothing of the meandering reminiscer about Dazai; with him all is sharp, brief and evocative.  Even if each scene of No Longer Human were the exact reproduction of an incident from Dazai’s life – of course this is not the case – his technique would qualify the whole of the work as one of original fiction. (p.10)

Some readers, particularly those who have read the Ralph McCarthy book Self Portraits, may find this an interesting choice of words!

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But what of Keene’s own style?  Well, I’m saving a look at longer sections of the text for my final post, but I’ll offer a few observations here.  As noted, the translation appeared in 1958, and reading it today, it’s definitely a work of its time.  There are a number of intriguing vocabulary choices (a quick flick through at random had me noting down words such as propitiate, congenitally, morbid dread, sedately ensconced and turbid).  There’s nothing wrong with that, but it does lend a slightly old-fashioned air to the text in places.

I also noted down some vocabulary choices of another sort, key words that the various translators might have rendered differently in their versions.  For example, Keene chooses to use prologue, notebooks and epilogue for the different parts of the novel, and in a scene where Yōzō discusses joining a Marxist group, we’re told about social outcasts, criminal consciousness and a wound of a guilty conscience.  Towards the end of the novel, Yōzō hears a song as he stumbles about in the dark:

“Where does this little path go?
Where does this little path go?” (p.157)

Finally, there’s a family friend who comes to Yōzō’s aid at times, and he’s given the unflattering nickname Flatfish.  Remember these choices – I’ll be revisiting them in days to come…

There were also a few interesting points to note about the grammar and sentence structure used.  While the frame and the notebooks are written in the first-person, Keene has a tendency to depersonalise expressions, using ‘you’ rather than ‘I’ in places.  There’s also a preference for clipped sentences, with simple subject-verb-object word order.  Again, this is more useful in comparison than in isolation, but I can tell you now that not all the translators agree with these choices.

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Overall, Keene’s translation is an enjoyable read with much to appreciate (one wonderful decision is that of keeping a whole paragraph of poetry in the original French, with no translation!).  However, owing to some of the vocabulary choices, it does feel a little dated in places, and there was certainly scope for a new effort decades on…

…and that’s what we’ll be taking a look at next time around.  Come back soon to see me considering a second translation, with a new approach and (blasphemy!) a new title.  But are these changes brave or merely foolish?  You’ll find out tomorrow 🙂