On Rosemary Arrojo's “Writing, Interpreting, and the Power Struggle for the Control of Meaning: Scenes from Kafka, Borges, and Kosztolanyi”
As Nietzsche argues in relation to contemporary language theories, “nothing or nobody could claim to be outside the domain of interpretation,” “there is no text in itself apart from the activity of interpretation (cited by Arrojo 65). According to Arrojo “because we cannot separate the text from its reading, the latter [that is, reading] is inextricably related to the will to power and, thus, is a way of taking over rather than protecting or merely reproducing someone else’s meaning” (Arrojo 65). Kafka’s story “The Burrow” is both “a text” and a labyrinth, “it has passages” which have to be constantly reviewed (ibid 65). The creator of the labyrinth goes through the passages over and over again to see if there is anything which would result in an intruder to come into labyrinth. The creator of the labyrinth is obsessed with this idea, it must be alone in his kingdom, and no other creature is allowed. Every time it goes through the passages, it realizes there is something missing and “redoes his work again” (69). In fact, every time it goes through the passages - hence “the intruding Other whom he [the creature] imagines as a faithful projection to himself” (Arrojo 68) - it is no more the creator but the intruder, no more the writer but the reader. I think, as soon one goes through even her/his own creation, one is no more the creator but the intruder, no more the writer but the reader, so there is no way but interpreting over and over again. There are always passages in texts which would lead even the “original” author to interpret, let alone another reader. Arrojo argues that in Borges’ story Scharlach can do what the creature in Kafka’s story cannot and prisons his reader (71); however this is fiction, and in real life, no such thing is possible; there are always passages in texts which cause the reader to interpret, and construct his own meaning: we as readers of Borges’ story will eventually escape from the prison of Borges, as soon as we find a passage which we can take over. At this point Arrojo rightfully asks (73): “If one cannot clearly and forever separate the author from the interpreter, the text from its reading, or even one text from another, and if the will to power as authorial desire is that which moves both writers and readers in their attempts at constructing textual mazes that could protect their meanings and, thus, also imprison and neutralize any potential intruder, is it ever possible for interpreters to be faithful to the authors or to the texts they visit?” “In a tradition that generally views originals as the closed, fixed receptacle of their author’s intentional meanings... translators are not only denied the rights and privileges of authorship but also must endure a reputation for treachery and ineptitude while being urged to be as invisible and as humble as possible” (Arrojo 74). The hero in story “The Kleptomaniac Translator” written by Dezso Kosztolanyi stands for the fate of all translators who “indulge in addictive authorial pleasure” even if they “attempt to compete with mediocre authors” so as to turn those authors’ “second-rate originals into artistic pieces” (Arrojo 77). Fortunately, “we are beginning to chart almost unknown ground in which writing and interpretation overlap as we attempt to review the old clichés that have devalued the impact of the translator’s task on the shaping of history and culture” (Arrojo 78).
Reference:
Rosemary Arrojo “Writing, Interpreting, and the Power Struggle for the Control of Meaning: Scenes from Kafka, Borges, and Kosztolanyi”.