ABSTRACT
The original affects the translation; the translation affects the original. The figures merge seamlessly into their translation, the way a translator's subjectivity, to the unsuspecting, turns into pure surface. True to the imperfect nature of art, the component parts of the translation, the scene reflecting 'nature', don't quite fit together: the translation as a whole dissolves and merges the various pieces, each reflective panel a different size and therefore function, analogues of translation techniques. Literary translation for too long was practiced as if the exclusive pursuit of Brahmins, a mystery cult out of view, different and better than other kinds of translation. Literary translation can take part in no less than the democratisation of knowledge transfer worldwide, in the history and economy of nations and language communities, contrary to its long reputation in many quarters as somehow outside of human commerce. Literary translation's appeal is existential, not merely intellectual, aesthetic, political or recreational.
