Letters to a Young Poet Hardcover – April 18, 2011

Mitchell's is a mediocre translation, and does not match that of M.D. Herter Norton ( Letters to a Young Poet ), whose quintessential translation must be the standard for all others of Rilke's work. You cannot see these pages in the Look Inside feature, but the following famous passage in Letter 8 is an excellent example. "Mr. Kappus," the young poet, might as well be us, and the passage can be read without the words "dear Mr. Kappus" and stands alone -- at least in the M.D. Herter Norton translation.M.D. Herter Norton's translation ( Letters to a Young Poet ) reads:"How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are the beginning of all peoples? The myths about dragons that, at the last moment, turn into princesses. Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses, who are only waiting to see us, once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is, in its deepest being, something helpless that wants help from us. So, you must not be frightened, dear Mr. Kappus, if a sadness rises up before you, larger than any you have ever seen. If a restiveness like light and cloud-shadows, passes over your hands and over all you do. You must think that something is happening to you. That life has not forgotten you. That it holds you in its hand. It will not let you fall. Why do you want to shut out of your life any agitation, any pain, any melancholy, since you do really do not know what these states are working upon you? ..."Stephen Mitchell's ( Letters to a Young Poet (Modern Library) ) and ( Letters to a Young Poet ), whose introduction is somewhat bizarre, gets going and then his translation falls flat.Mitchell's translation reads:"How could we forget those ancient myths that stand at the beginning of all the races, the myths about dragons that are at the last moment transformed into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love. So you mustn't be frightened, dear Mr. Kappus, if a sadness rises up in front of you, larger than any you have ever seen; if an anxiety, like light and cloud-shadows, moves over your hands and over everything you do. You must realize that something is happening to you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. Why to you want to shut out of your life any uneasiness, any misery, any depression. since after all you don't know what work these conditions are doing inside you?...."Really, "[p]erhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love"? Our LOVE? No reason for this translator's license, none at all.Now, compare these to Charlie Louth's ( Letters to a Young Poet ), which in not only wordy but changes meaning due to changes in word order:"How can we forget those ancient myths found at the beginnings of all peoples? The myths about the dragons who at the last moment turn into princesses? Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses, only waiting for the day when they will see us handsome and brave? Perhaps everything terrifying is deep down a helpless thing that needs our help. So, dear Mr. Kappus, you shouldn't be dismayed if a sadness rises up in front of you, greater than any you have ever seen before; or if a disquiet plays over your hands and over all your doings like light and cloud-shadow. You must think that something is happening with you; that life has not forgotten you; that it holds you in its hand; it will not let you fall. Why should you want to exclude from your life all unsettling, all pain, all depression of spirit, when you don't know what work it is these states are performing within you? ... "If one goes further back in this letter, to Rilke's discussion of solitude, the demarcation between the beautiful and the mediocre translation is just as clear. I find M.D. Herter Norton's translation ( Letters to a Young Poet ) to be by far the most beautiful, poetic and meaningful, although reading other translations can add to the reader's understanding, or else, show the reader which translation speaks to him.On the other hand, here is an opportunity to compare, free of charge, three translations. I have chosen to confine myself to the M.D. Herter Norton one ( Letters to a Young Poet ), since I don't want to interrupt the flow of reading as I study these great letters, and feel it is best to choose one. It is a shame the M.D. Herter Norton translation is not currently in print in hardcover. Still, there are used copies to be found and I'd rather buy several paperback copies of Norton's than have a nice-looking hardcover of a mediocre translation.===================[For those interested, the discussion of solitude that I mentioned states in part (M.D. Herter Norton's translation; words in capitals indicate words italicized in the text): "...to speak of solitude again, it becomes always clearer that this is at the bottom not something that one can take or leave. We ARE solitary. We may delude ourselves and act as though this were not so. That is all. But how much better to realize that we are so, yes, and even begin by assuming it...." For anyone who has ever had an epiphany of his aloneness, his loneliness even in a crowd, Rilke's discussion (in Norton's translation) states beautifully this experience and truth. For anyone who hasn't, Rilke gets him thinking about the possibility.]===================Note: I use the neutral singular third person pronoun and its variations in my reviews. I never like "she" for "he" since it has never been inclusive of both genders, whereas "he" has always been inclusive of "she" as well, unless it stands for a specific male. This fact of the English language ought, I feel, to be maintained since it exists in English texts for hundreds of years. I've never had a problem, as a female, of understanding that I am included in "he/him/his" when these occur in the generic sense.

"Letters to a Young Poet," newly translated by Mark Harman and published by Harvard University Press, is one of only three hardback editions solely devoted to Rilke's ten letters to Franz Kappus. One, with a translation by Joan M. Burnham ( Letters to a Young Poet ), has been criticized for compromising the beauty of Rilke's prose. The other is a Modern Library edition featuring a widely praised translation by Stephen Mitchell, which you can find at this link:  Letters to a Young Poet (Modern Library) . Both Harman and the elder Mitchell are well respected for their craft. From what I've read of reviewers who understand the nuances and challenges of translating German to English, these two men have produced probably the best available translations of this work in English.If you don't want to buy a cheaper paperback version of "Letters to a Young Poet" (maybe because you predict the work will become an enduring addition to your personal library), or if your purchase is intended as a gift, here are some points to help you decide between these two excellent choices.Both books, as physical objects, are attractively made, printed on good quality paper, sturdily constructed to stand the tests of time. The Harvard University Press edition has attributes of a well-made book: its boards are fully cloth covered (the Modern Library book is half-cloth), and its page signatures are stitch-sewn. If you spread open the book at pages 64-65, for example, you'll see connecting thread running down the center, which helps the book lay flatter than the glued binding of the Modern Library book. But the Modern Library edition is a full one inch larger vertically (to see this size difference, please see the "customer photos" I've posted, linked to in the upper left corner of this Amazon page). The text of the Mitchell translation is printed in noticeably larger type than that of Harman, which for some readers will mean more comfortable reading experience.Mitchell supplies only a brief introduction to his translation, while Harman's introduction, at 20 pages, is longer than even the longest of Rilke's ten letters.Befitting its academic imprimatur, the Harvard edition includes an Index, although I'm not fully convinced of its utility. For example, consider this famous passage in Letter VIII as rendered by Harman:"How could we possibly forget those old myths that arise at the origin of all peoples, the myths about dragons, who at the point of greatest extremity transform themselves into princesses; perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses, who are merely waiting to see us just once as beautiful and courageous. Perhaps everything terrible is in essence only the helplessness that is seeking our help."If, months after finishing the book, you want a second look at that charmed observation and so turn to the Index for help, you'll come up empty handed. There's no listing for "dragons" or "princesses." Two more examples: throughout the letters Rilke comments on the season of spring, and he writes about pregnancy both as actuality and as metaphor; but "spring" and "pregnancy" are also missing from the Index.And yet, if you want to gain a sense of what these ten letters are all about, it's a revealing exercise to scan the Index and pick out the entries pointing to the most page references:Art, Childhood, Creativity, Doubt, Gender, God, Inspiration, Love, Nature, Patience, Questions, Sex, Solitude, and Sorrows.Is it by chance this alphabetical arrangement forms a kind of rough "life-stages of man" sequence -- an arc that doubtless would have pleased the poet? Maybe what this should remind us is that it is the enduring content of the letters themselves that matters most. To partake of Rilke's spirit, you really can't go wrong with either presentation of these "Letters to a Young Poet."

I came across a quote from Rilke while watching a movie and wanted to find out more about the author, which led me to this book. I now try to read this once a year as a constant reminder of how uniquely I must live my life, no matter the difficulty because as Rilke tells us, "life is always right."

Nothing to dislike. As a 74 year old poet, I am reminded by Rilke that I have much to offer the public and, more to the point, the writing public. Rilke accepts the mantel of mentor seriously and befriends the questioning fan.He makes clear that poets don't make money, but they do make a significant contribution to readers and to the literary world. He does it without preaching. I could feel myself on a park bench, at a coffee house, as Rilke reaches out to the young questioner. "My books as soon as they are published are no longer mine." What writer has not pondered wanting to give a book to a friend, to share, but been constrained by the need to conserve scarce resources and save the books for buying customers.I could go on, but one more quote: "...in the deepest and most important matters, we are unspeakably alone." There is the heart of the poet, the recognizing that only he can probe a being well, and he has to do it alone. Superb short reminder of the burden and glory of writing.

This was one of my favorite classics. The prose is so stunning that you can definitely tell it was written by a poet, and the advice he provides is useful and applicable to anyone's life if you're open to it. Great book!

Beautiful book

For me his message is true.. We should learn to love the life we have and not spoil time in dreaming about something better. No maybe's anyh more.

Some good quotesIt was recommended by a professorInteresting and easy to readNot the book of my life though

sehr gut