ABSTRACT
In 1978, soon after my translations of Italian poetry began appearing in magazines, I met another American translator of Italian, an older, widely published, and very gifted writer who commented on some of my work and gave me advice about literary translation. Among his many shrewd remarks was the recommendation that I translate an Italian author of my own generation, something which he himself had been doing for many years and with much success. He explained that when author and translator live in the same historical moment, they are more likely to share a common sensibility, and this is highly desirable in translation because it increases the fi delity of the translated text to the original. The translator works better when he and the author are simpatico, said my friend, and by this he meant not just “agreeable,” or “congenial,” meanings which this Italian word is often used to signify, but also “possessing an underlying sympathy.” The translator should not merely get along with the author, not merely fi nd him likeable; there should also be an identity between them.
