索菲·平克姆：《劳动中的无言》

这里是LitHub广播播客。欢迎收听《纽约书评》与LitHub联合推出的《批评家与她的公众》。我是主持人玛尔瓦·埃姆雷。在这个现场访谈系列中，我将邀请当今最优秀、最杰出的批评家们，对他们从未见过的物品进行即兴批评。这将让我们一睹卓越思想家的思考过程，看他们如何冒险做出时而正确时而错误的即兴判断。

A LitHub Radio podcast. Welcome to the critic and her publics from the New York Review of Books and LitHub. I'm your host, Marva Emre. In this live interview series, I ask the best and most prominent critics working today to perform criticism on the spot on an object they've never seen before. It's a glimpse into brilliant minds at work, performing their thinking, taking risks, and making spontaneous judgments, which are sometimes right and sometimes wrong.

如果你经常阅读评论文章，就会开始形成自己崇拜的作家名单——每当翻开新一期杂志时，你会特意寻找他们的署名。对我来说，索菲·平克姆就是这样的作家。她是康奈尔大学比较文学教授，其关于专制统治下艺术与文学的论文堪称典范，以惊人的精确性探讨美学与政治、形式与权力之间的关系。她的作品见于《纽约时报》《经济学人1843杂志》《纽约客》《新左评论》和《华盛顿邮报》。

If you read criticism regularly, then you start to develop a pantheon of writers whose bylines you look for with every new issue of every magazine that you read. For me, Sophie Pinkham is one of these writers. She is a professor of comparative literature at Cornell. Her essays on art and literature under autocracy have been incredibly compelling models of how to ask questions about aesthetics and politics, form and power with tremendous precision. Her writing has appeared in The New York Times, The Economist eighteen forty three magazine, The New Yorker, The New Left Review, and The Washington Post.

她也是《纽约书评》的常驻撰稿人，曾发表关于乌克兰与俄罗斯小说、现代主义建筑与共产主义南斯拉夫、社会主义现实主义绘画的过去与现在的文章，而我最爱的一篇则是关于后共产主义俄罗斯女性主义及女性主义诗歌的论述。她的著作《后苏联乌克兰历险记》出色而震撼地融合了新闻报道与回忆录，揭示了反动帝国如何操纵历史来服务其民族主义、仇外心理和帝国主义领土欲望。她正在创作《树中之灵》一书，探讨俄罗斯森林的文化史。我有预感，本期后半段我将展示给她的神秘物品，会让我们窥见她当下的思考脉络。今天能邀请索菲做客，我实在激动不已。

She's also a regular contributor to The New York Review of Books, which has published her essays about Ukrainian and Russian novels, modernist architecture and communist Yugoslavia, the past and present of socialist realist painting, and my favorite of her essays, which is on post communist Russian feminism and feminist poetry. Her book, Adventures in Post Soviet Ukraine, is a brilliant and disturbing blend of reportage and memoir, an examination of how history is manipulated by reactionary empires to serve their nationalist, xenophobic, imperialist landlust. She's working on a book called The Spirit in the Trees about the cultural history of Russia's forests. And I have a feeling that the surprise object that I give her in the second half of this episode will give us a glimpse of her current thinking. I'm very, very excited to have Sophie as my guest today.

你好。

Hello.

索菲，我想先问你一个开场问题——这和之前采访安德莉亚时的问题相同：今晚观众席里有许多18至21岁的大学生，你某种程度上是他们职业发展的榜样。能否请你先讲述一下自己的成长历程？

So Sophie, I will start by asking you the same question that I asked Andrea at the beginning of our conversation, which is this. Many people in the audience tonight are 18, 19, 20, 21 year old college students, and you are here in part as a model of how they can get from where they are to where you are. So I wonder if we could begin by having you narrate that journey.

好的，很乐意。我的文学批评之路可能有些非同寻常的曲折。最初很常规——我获得了英语学位，但后来发生了奇特的转向。

Yes. With pleasure. I think my journey to literary criticism has perhaps been somewhat unusually circuitous. I began in a very straightforward manner. I graduated with an English degree, but then I took a strange swerve.

由于我在纽约长大，身边有许多幼时从苏联移民来的同龄人，长期接触俄语母语者。大学研读英语诗歌时，我逐渐迷上了俄罗斯诗歌，尤其是那位古怪、迷人且莫名性感的未来主义诗人弗拉基米尔·马雅可夫斯基。可以暂停一下吗？好的。

Because as someone who had grown up in New York City around a lot of people my own age who had immigrated from The Soviet Union as children, I had spent quite a lot of time with people from the Soviet Union, so people whose native language was Russian. And gradually, as I studied English poetry when I was in college, began to become fascinated by Russian poetry and, in particular, by the strange, charismatic, and weirdly sexy futurist poet, Vladimir Mayakovsky. Can we pause? Yes.

说说他为何如此性感。

Tell us what made him so sexy.

这个嘛...俄罗斯本就是盛产性感诗人的国度。但部分原因在于诗歌在俄国承载的社会意义，以及它与权力的关联——这种关联在某些方面也很阴郁，须知他最终自杀身亡与其政治立场不无关系。马雅可夫斯基在1920年代成为了这个诗人辈出的国度里最耀眼的诗歌巨星。

Well, it's I mean, Russia is a place that has so specialized in sexy poets. But I think it is partly the the charge of social importance that poetry had in Russia. Right? And also its affiliation, and this is very sinister in some ways as well, and it's important to know that died by suicide, certainly in part due to his relationship to political power. And so Mayakovsky was someone who became probably the biggest superstar poet in a nation known for its superstar poets in the nineteen twenties.

某种程度上，他是苏联早期——尚未陷入全面斯大林主义时期——最具代表性、最典型的革命诗人。这种身份赋予他一种极具吸引力的社会能量。对我这样的青少年而言，他在照片中的形象也确实性感。后来我发现，对马雅可夫斯基外貌这种略带扭曲的欣赏并非独我有之——坦白说，他的照片至今仍挂在我的墙上。

And he was in some way the most prominent, the most typical, one might say, poet of the early Soviet project. So before it descended into full blown Stalinism and a poet of the revolution. And so that, I think, invested him with a a social energy that was deeply appealing. He also, to my, you know, my adolescent mind, just looked quite sexy in photographs. And I learned later that I was not the only one who had this slightly twisted appreciation of the physical appearance of Vladimir Mayakovsky, whose whose photo, I must confess, still adorns my wall.

他激励了我。而且，你知道，他对1970年代纽约诗人们也极具吸引力，尤其是肯尼斯·科克。我在纽约有许多怀揣诗人梦想的朋友，其中一些人如今已成为各类评论家，他们曾在肯尼斯·科克在世时跟随他学习诗歌创作。因此，对俄罗斯未来主义的热情与1970年代纽约诗派及诗人约翰·阿什伯里之间存在着某种联系——后者在我大学时期也成为了我最喜爱的诗人之一。

He inspired me. And he, you know, he was also someone who was very interesting to the New York poets of the nineteen seventies, notably Kenneth Coke. And I had a lot of friends in New York who were aspiring poets, some of whom are also now critics of various kinds, and who studied with Kenneth Coke while he was still alive, who studied poetry writing. And so there was this connection between enthusiasm for for Russian futurism and then nineteen seventies New York School Of Poets and John Ashbury, who's a poet, who also became a favorite of mine when I was in college.

好的。所以是炙热、有力、革命性且跨国界的。抱歉打断了这个话题。

Okay. So hot, powerful, revolutionary, transnational. I'm sorry to take us off that.

迷茫的青春渴望。

Confused adolescent yearnings.

明白。

Okay.

于是我开始学习俄语。大学最后一年我学了一年俄语，之后却不知该何去何从。那时我隐约想成为小说家，但又觉得这种想法很复古老派——就像梅尔维尔那样，我似乎应该'扬帆远航'，认为必须尽可能去往远方。后来我看到一个交换项目的广告。

So I started studying Russian. I studied Russian for just one year in the end of college. And then didn't really know what to do with myself. At that time, I had a sort of vague desire to become a novelist, but I felt that also in a quite retro and old fashioned way, I felt that, like Melville, I should, so to speak, take to the high seas and that it was absolutely necessary for me to go as far away as possible. And so I found an advertisement for an exchange program.

现在很难想象还有这种项目——当时是个面向年轻人的美俄交换计划。

It's amusing to imagine this existing now, but for a Russian American exchange program for young people.

现在具体是哪一年？

What year are we in now?

2005年2月。

This is in 02/2005.

好的。

Okay.

对，很久以前了。我申请了这个交换项目，但不知道会被派去哪里。项目与公共卫生有关——这是我另一个兴趣领域。大学期间我参与过艾滋病维权和生殖权利运动，甚至高中时也有所涉猎。

Yeah. So a long time ago. And I applied for this exchange program, and I didn't know where they would place me. It had something to do with public health, which was another thing that I was interested in. I had been involved in some AIDS activism and reproductive rights activism in college and actually even in high school to some extent.

于是我被派往西伯利亚的伊尔库茨克红十字会工作。有些人可能通过棋盘游戏《冒险》知道这个地方。当时，那是我遇到的每个人了解伊尔库茨克的唯一方式。我在11月底和12月待在那里。伊尔库茨克位于西伯利亚腹地。

And so I was placed at the Red Cross in Idkutsk, which is in Siberia. Some of you might know it from the board game Risk. That, at that time, was the only way that anyone I met knew Ikutsk. And I was there in late November and December. And so Ikutsk is very deep in Siberia.

它靠近贝加尔湖，气候极其寒冷。在伊尔库茨克红十字会，他们应对的主要健康问题是艾滋病，因为当时俄罗斯正爆发大规模的艾滋病疫情，还有冻伤。这大致勾勒出当时的情景。我对后苏联时期的公共卫生问题产生了浓厚兴趣。

It's near Lake Baikal. It's immensely cold. And at the Red Cross in Ichutsk, the main health problems that they coped with were HIV because there was a huge HIV epidemic in Russia at that time, and frostbite. So that kind of gives you a picture of at that time. And I became very fascinated by the problems of post Soviet public health.

从伊尔库茨克回来后，我最终在乔治·索罗斯那个如今声名狼藉的基金会找到工作。我为这位匈牙利慈善家工作，在前苏联地区从事公共卫生事务。那段时期，我对历史以及苏联解体后的社会转型产生了深刻兴趣——这些社会如何转变，各国人民如何重新定义身份认同，有的摒弃苏联遗产，有的坚守，有的则复兴旧式民族主义。后来我获得富布赖特奖学金，在乌克兰生活了数年，进行研究工作后甚至留下就业，深深爱上了这个国家。

When I returned from Irkutsk, I eventually ended up getting a job actually at George Soros' now infamous foundation. So I was working for George Soros, who's a Hungarian philanthropist, and working in public health in the former Soviet Union. And during that time, I became very deeply interested history and in the transition from the Soviet Union, how societies were transformed, how the people of these different countries ended up redefining their identities, right, sort of casting off the Soviet legacy sometimes, sometimes clinging to it, sometimes retrieving old forms of nationalism. And then as a product of that, I ended up getting a Fulbright grant and going and living in Ukraine for several years. And then I studied, I researched, and then I got a job and stayed on even longer in Ukraine and really fell in love with Ukraine.

还有件在当前局势下显得极其荒诞的事——我就是在那里学会了俄语。虽然不能说完全沉浸式学习，毕竟是在乌克兰。我住在基辅，那时完全是个双语城市。现在理论上仍是双语，人们可以自由选择说俄语或乌克兰语，但出于显而易见的原因，如今大多数人都不再说俄语了，对吧？

And also and this is extremely bizarre in light of current events, that was also where I learned Russian. So I had I had an interesting experience of I couldn't say complete immersion in Russian, of course, because it was Ukraine. I was living in Kyiv, which was a completely bilingual city at that time. And I think it still is bilingual in the sense that everyone there can speak Russian and Ukrainian if they want to, but for very obvious reasons, most people at this point choose not to speak Russian anymore. Right?

他们只用乌克兰语交流。但当时俄语可能是基辅的主要语言。荒诞的是，我拿着美国政府的奖学金在基辅学习俄语。

They only speak to each other in Ukrainian. But at that point, Russian was probably the predominant language in Kyiv. And, bizarrely, I got an American government grant to learn Russian in Kyiv.

能打断一下吗？你两次提到'荒诞'。能否具体说说这种荒诞感从何而来？或者结合当下局势，反思下当时在那种地方接受那种语言教育的矛盾性？

Can can I interrupt you for a second? So you've said bizarrely twice now. Yeah. And I just wanna press a little bit on what makes that feel bizarre or if could you just reflect a little on the dissonance of getting the language education that you did in the place that you did given the current events of the present?

好的。我被那个地区吸引正是因为其转型状态。虽然当时已意识到转型，但完全没预见到后续发展——2014年俄罗斯对乌克兰的暴行、支持分裂势力吞并乌东地区，直到如今全面战争。某种程度上，这与俄国历史上的革命时期产生共鸣，那种站在深渊边缘的深刻不确定感，正是俄罗斯文学文化反复书写的主题。

Yeah. I mean, I think I was attracted to that part of the world because it was in transition. I was already aware that it was in transition, but I certainly had no understanding at all of where the transition was going to lead, right, of the next turning point, which was, of course, Russia's horrifying violence towards Ukraine and its its support of separatists, of course, in 2014, who annexed Eastern Ukraine with the support of of the Russian military and now the full blown war, which all of you are very aware of. Although, of course, in a certain way, it it resonates, obviously, with other parts of Russian history, with the Russian revolution, right, with this profound uncertainty, this feeling of sort of teetering on the edge of an abyss that has characterized a lot of Russian literature and and Russian culture, I would say, and Russian language literature and culture. Culture.

这算回答

Does that answer

你的问题了吗？算的。好的，让我们回到正题——你当时在乌克兰。

your question? It does. It does. Okay. So so to take us back, you are in Ukraine.

你当时在读研究生？还是说

You were studying. You were in graduate school at this point, or you're

你还在做富布赖特项目吗？我当时也还在进行我的富布赖特。好吧。然后我就去读了研究生。抱歉。

still on your Fulbright? I was still on my Fulbright. Okay. And then I went to graduate school. Sorry.

这是个很长的故事。没关系。没关系。慢慢说。是的。

I'm this is a long story. That's okay. That's okay. Buggle in. Yeah.

后来我去读了研究生，决定专攻斯拉夫研究。我那时完全迷上了苏联文化。明白吗？那里有乌克兰现代主义，有各种文化的蓬勃绽放，这些文化不一定是俄语的，也不仅限于苏联时期的俄罗斯。

So then I went to graduate school, and I decided to do Slavic studies. I had really become entranced by Soviet culture. Right? There was Ukrainian modernism. There was a great blossoming of all kinds of culture that were not necessarily in the Russian language or specific to to Russia in the time of the Soviet Union.

但我尤其着迷于俄语文学，最终获得了斯拉夫研究的博士学位。接着2013年爆发了戏剧性的迈丹革命，当时抗议者聚集在基辅市中心坚持了数周，最终驱逐了时任总统维克托·亚努科维奇，这直接引发了俄罗斯对乌克兰的首次进攻。说到这里我想给你们年轻人一个建议——如果你愿意接受的话——那就是掌握一门冷门专长确实大有裨益。你看，美国就业市场充斥着只会英语的人对吧？

But I was very entranced by Russian language literature in particular and ended up doing a PhD in Slavic. And then there was the dramatic turn of the Maidan revolution in 2013, which was when protesters gathered and stayed in the center of Kyiv for for many, many weeks and ended up driving out the then president Viktor Yanukovych, and that was what helped trigger Russia's first attack on Ukraine. And this is where I would give you advice, if you will accept advice from me as young people of today, that it does really help to have a strange expertise. So the, you know, the American job market is full of people who speak only English. Right?

但事实证明，掌握相对小众的语言技能可能极具价值，因为这让你与众不同。在世界其他地区积累特定经验也同样珍贵，它能给你一个起点，成为你的某种名片。所以当迈丹抗议爆发及后续事件发生时，我发现自己竟是少数几个（虽然刚起步）在撰写相关文章的写作者之一。

But it turns out that having somewhat unusual language skills can be immensely useful, right, because it sets you apart. And having some very specific experience in some other part of the world can also be enormously useful. It gives you a starting point. It becomes a sort of calling card for you. And so when the Maidan protest happened and then and then the subsequent events, it turned out that I was one of the only people who was, you know, writing essays, although I had just started.

那时我只发表过一两篇杂志文章，刚踏入研究生阶段。但我是写作圈里极少数对乌克兰有深入了解的人之一，这便是我2016年出版的那本书的由来。说到你之前提到的马雅可夫斯基，以及你读他诗作时的感受...

I had only I think I had only published one or two sort of magazine pieces at that point, and I was just starting graduate school. But I was one of the only people who was sort of in the writing scene who had any deep experience of Ukraine. And that was how my book came about, which was published in 2016. You know, to go back to something that you said about Mayakovsky and the feeling that you had reading his poetry and reading about him that there

诗歌具有重大社会意义。这种艺术的社会重要性在我阅读你的文章时感受尤为强烈。恕我直言，这种感受在阅读学术著作时并不常有。你做得特别出色的一点，就是将那种只能在大学环境（或至少与之相关）中培养出的独特专长，转化为让我们感知艺术力量与社会潜能的文字。能否谈谈你是如何在《纽约书评》等平台的文章中实现这种效果的？

was a great social importance to poetry. That sense of great social importance to art is something that I feel very strongly when I read your essays. And if I can be a little provocative, it's not something that I always feel when I read academic writing. And I think one thing that you've managed to do so wonderfully is take that strange expertise that in some ways could only be cultivated in or at least adjacent to a university and use it to make us feel the power and the social potential of art. So can you talk a little bit about how you pull that off and how you think about these questions in the context of the essays that you've written, for instance, for the New York Review of Books?

这个嘛，回到马雅可夫斯基——感谢你重提这个话题——作为一个自幼痴迷文学、视文学为生命的人，俄罗斯文学文化最吸引我的地方在于诗人和作家在其历史中的显赫地位。即便当年作为几乎不懂俄语、天真懵懂的交换生，我也立即注意到俄罗斯大量街道以作家命名。对俄罗斯人这司空见惯，而在乌克兰等地，推倒普希金等已成为帝国权力象征的诗人的雕像具有充分的象征意义。但这种文学与政治的紧密联系在美国语境中并不常见，令我深深着迷。

Well, I mean, I would say, going back to Mayakovsky, and thank you for for circling back to that, that part of what made me so interested in Russian literature and culture as someone who had always, from early childhood, been passionately interested in literature, been completely invested in literature for whom literature was life in some way. I actually found my childhood diary recently from when I was in sixth grade, and there was one misspelled entry in pencil that said another day lived through reading when I was younger.

不，这很动人。

No. That's very sweet.

最近我翻到六年级时的日记，里面有句铅笔写的错别字：‘又是靠阅读度过的一天’。俄罗斯历史中诗人与作家的突出地位深深吸引了我，即便当年作为几乎不懂俄语、天真困惑的交换生，我也立刻注意到这个国家大量街道以作家命名。对俄罗斯人这再平常不过，而在乌克兰等地，推倒普希金等已成为帝国权力象征的诗人雕像，具有充分的象征意义。但这种文学与政治的紧密联系，在美国语境中是我从未强烈感受过的。

But one thing that attracted me to Russian history was the prominence of poets and writers in Russian history. And it was immediately apparent to me even as sort of a essentially foreign exchange very naive, confused foreign exchange student who barely knew Russian, was that a very large proportion of the streets in Russia are named after writers. Right? And for Russian people, that's completely pedestrian, and the sort of toppling of canonical Russian figures and of monuments to poets such as Pushkin who became symbols of imperial power has become very symbolically important with good reason in places such as Ukraine. But I was fascinated by that close linkage between literature and politics, which was not something that I had felt strongly in the American context.

在我的批评中，部分观点基于一个历史事实：文学及其他文化形式历来与政治权力关系密切，常被用作政治权力的工具。但我在写作中更想探讨的是，这种现象至今可能依然存在。对吧？如今人们常会不假思索地将文学（尤其是）及其他文化形式视为某种附加品。对吗？

So in my criticism, I mean, part of it is just a historical fact that literature and other forms of culture have been much closer to political power historically and have been used as as tools of political power. But I think that one thing that I'm interested in doing in my writing is to look at ways in which that still might be true. Right? And I think that today, there is a reflexive tendency sometimes to think of literature in particular, but also other forms of culture as sort of an extra. Right?

像是装饰品，蛋糕上的糖霜，可有可无的东西。而权力的核心是什么？或许是金钱、政治、武器。但值得思考的是，即使在最不显山露水的时候，文学与文化中是否始终潜藏着某种权力暗流。

As an ornament, as sort of icing on the cake, as something that is expendable, right, and unnecessary. And what is at the core of power? The core of power is, I don't know, you know, money, politics, weapons. Right? But I think it's worth asking whether there is actually a current of power that is always in literature and is in culture even at times when it's less explicit.

能否谈谈你如何区分被塑造出来、可能因各种不良动机而广为传播的作家形象，与诗人或诗歌本身？

Can you talk a little bit about how you distinguish between the image of a writer that has been created and perhaps put into circulation for all kinds of nefarious and objectionable reasons and, let us say, the poet or the poetry itself? Well,

我认为应该不断回归诗歌本身。这需要尽可能阅读作者的全部作品——比如普希金，要了解他那些极端令人反感的俄罗斯民族主义诗作占比多少。他确实写过几首政治立场有问题的民族主义诗歌，最近在网上被大量转发。布罗茨基也是如此。

I think you wanna keep returning to the poetry itself. And part of that has to do with reading as much of the person's body of work as you can, right, to understand what proportion for example, with Pushkin, what proportion of his work is extremely objectionable Russian nationalist poems. Right? Because he did write a few very politically objectionable nationalist poet poems, which were have recently been widely circulated online, etcetera. The same is true of Brodsky.

在这种充斥着表情包、转发和合理愤怒的氛围中，几首最具争议的诗突然成了诗人全部作品的代表。这些诗当然值得重视——尤其是普希金某些被用作政治工具、对其民族主义偶像形象塑造至关重要的诗作。但我们也需要理解他们其他的诗歌。

And it is this this atmosphere of of memes and reposts also and and fury, which is justified and understandable. But suddenly, those few most objectionable poems become the key representative of that poet's whole body of work. Right? And you should absolutely take those poems into account, and they're very significant, especially the ones like some of Pushkin's most objectionable poems, which have been used as political tools, right, and have been very important building blocks in the creation of this poet's image as an an sort of nationalist icon, right, to some extent. But you also wanna understand all of their other poetry.

要把诗作放在作者的创作生涯中审视：何时写的？为何而写？当时的创作背景是什么？

You wanna situate that poem in the person's career. When did they write that poem? Why did they write that poem? What was the context of of that poem?

我们现在稍作休息，稍后继续《批评家与她的公众》下半场。说到权力暗流或地下权力，我想请你解读一个我认为蕴含巨大能量的对象。各位手边都有副本。索菲，请开始吧。

We will take a short break now and be back with the second half of The Critic and Her Publix. You know, speaking about a current of power or the underground of power, let's say, I wonder if I could give you something to read. And if you could put your mind to work on an object that I think comes bearing a great deal of power, and I'm curious to hear what you think about it. You all already have a copy of this. Sophie, I offer it to you.

或许你可以先为我们朗读，描述它，然后选出你认为对批评分析重要的段落进行朗诵。

And I would ask perhaps that you first start by reading it aloud for us. Okay. And maybe describe it, and then perhaps read aloud whatever parts of it you feel might be important one: for your performance of criticism on the object.

好的。这是奥西普·曼德尔施塔姆的《黑土》，他是苏联时期最伟大的作家之一，也是直接死于苏维埃政权迫害的众多作家之一。

Okay. So this is a poem called Black Earth, Cernizium, which is by Osip Mandelstam, who is one of the greatest writers of the Soviet period and who is one of the many writers who was killed as a direct result of Soviet power. And it For

给家里听众说明下，索菲是第一个正确识别出所给物件的人，值得额外奖励。做得好。

those keeping track at home, Sophie is the first to correctly identify the object that she has been given, so you will get extra brownie points for that. Well done. Well done.

是的。这是他晚年更为著名的诗作之一，创作于生命即将终结之际。当时他正被流放至沃罗涅日，诗中‘黑土’指的是俄罗斯中部和乌克兰草原地区极其肥沃的土壤。我猜想梅尔维巧妙地选择这首诗，正是因为它与我的书及乌克兰都有联系，对吧？

Yeah. This is one of his more famous later poems that was written very close to the end of his life. It was written when he was in exile in Varonezh, and so black earth refers to the extremely fertile soil in the steppe area of Central Russia and Ukraine. And I suspect that Mervey may have cleverly chosen this poem because it does connect to my book and it connects to Ukraine. Right?

因为乌克兰之所以被俄罗斯势力觊觎，部分原因就在于其极度肥沃的土壤。但以曼德尔施塔姆真正的风格而言，这首诗极难翻译。我曾为诗歌基金会撰文评价彼得·弗朗斯对曼德尔施塔姆诗作出色的翻译——我相信他有两本译诗集由新方向出版社出版，堪称杰作。

Because part of the reason that Ukraine has been sort of coveted by Russian power is because of its extremely fertile soil. But this, in the true Mandelstamian fashion, is a poem that is extremely difficult to translate. And I I wrote for the Poetry Foundation about Peter France's really excellent translation of a lot of Mandelstam's poetry. He has, I I believe, two collections of translation that came out with with new directions. They're outstanding.

但曼德尔施塔姆的诗翻译起来异常困难，因为它就像流动沙粒织就的织物。或许我们可以...要不我念一小段？当然，其实我们不如——

But Mandelstam's poetry is immensely difficult to translate because it is this sort of tissue of living sand. Could we perhaps So I should perhaps read a little bit of it? Sure. Actually, why don't we

就这么办？我在想，不如我们逐节对比着来？你愿意先读我给你的第一个版本的起始节，再读第二个版本的对应诗节吗？然后...对。

do it? I'm just thinking Why don't we do it stanza by stanza? And let's do it comparatively stanza by stanza. So do you wanna read the first stanza of the first version and the first stanza of the second version that I've given you here. And then Yes.

告诉我你对这两种对比译法的看法。

Tell me how you think about these comparative translations.

嗯。

Mhmm.

好的，请继续。

Okay. Go ahead.

第一个译本的首节写道：‘施过肥的、黝黑的，精耕细作的土地，如公马鬃毛般梳顺，在广阔天空下轻抚，所有松软的垄沟齐声合唱，我湿润的泥土碎块与我的自由。’而第二个译本则是：‘太黑了，过分纵容，活在苜蓿丛中。全是小马肩隆，全是空气，全是爱抚，全在碎裂又全在合唱，湿润的土块，我的自由与我的土地。’

So in the first first translation, the first stanza goes, manured, blackened, worked to a fine tilth, combed like a stallion's mane, stroked under the wide air, all the loosened ridges cast up in a single choir, the damp crumbs of my earth and my freedom. And then in the second translation, it reads, too black, too much indulged, living in clover. All little withers, all air, all loving care, all crumbling and all massing in a choir, damp clods of soil, my freedom and my earth.

面对同一诗节两版截然不同的译文，你该如何着手分析？

How do you even begin to approach these two unbelievably different translations of the same stanza?

我认为它们清晰地展现了曼德尔施塔姆诗歌的特点——其实所有优秀诗歌皆如此，但他的诗尤为典型——其魅力在于词语的多重含义，以及字面意义、音韵、内涵与情感氛围的交织。这对译者而言极为棘手，因为从俄语原诗的第一个词开始，他们就面临着令人窒息、甚至可能引发恐慌的歧义性。这首诗俄语开头的词‘...’（此处保留原文特征）基本是生造词，体现了俄语神奇的构词能力：几乎任何词加上前缀就能改变其意义。

Well, I think that one thing that they show very clearly is the fact that Mandelstam's poetry and I think that this is true of all poetry, probably, all good poetry, definitely, but it's extremely unusually true. Of Mandelsheim's poetry, it depends on the multiple meanings of words, and it also depends on the interaction of the semantic meaning of words of their what they indicate literally, and their sound and their connotation, their mood. Right? And so this is very difficult for a translator because they are immediately faced, and this starts actually with the first word of this poem in Russian with overwhelming and perhaps panic inducing ambiguity. So the first word of this poem in Russian is, which is a more or less made up word, I think, that is formed with this miraculous possibility of the Russian language to add a prefix onto almost any word in order to change its meaning.

因此前缀'peri'第二次出现在下一个词'pericerna'中，意为过黑或过度熏黑。但第一个词'periovajna'源自表示尊重的词，并附加了这个可以表示反复、过度或有时跨越的前缀。这相当抽象，对吧？所以它可能意味着反复受尊敬、过度受尊敬之类的含义，但这究竟意味着什么？

And so the prefix, peri, which then appears the second time in pericerna, the next word, which is too black or over blackened. But this first word, periovajna, comes from the word for respect, and onto it has been attached this prefix that can mean repeatedly or excessively or sometimes across. So that's quite abstract. Right? So it could mean repeatedly respected, excessively respected, something But along those what does that really mean?

继续往下读，你会发现这都是指地球。那么说地球被过度尊敬或反复尊敬究竟是什么意思？或者像第一个译本得出的结论——被施肥。

And then you continue reading, and you realize that this is all referring to earth. Right? So what on earth does it mean to say that the earth is over respected or perhaps repeatedly respected? Or as the first translation has concluded, manured.

对吧？

Right?

这简直是令人眼花缭乱的可能性组合。这个结论合理吗？施肥。被施肥。

This is a sort of staggering variety of possibilities. Is that a fair conclusion? Is manure Manured.

对比之下，我认为可能是过度放纵。对吧？这里或许存在某种关联？

Versus, I think, too much indulged. Right? Is perhaps corollary here?

是的，有可能。想象一下你是个译者，要在'被施肥'和'过度放纵'之间做选择，对吧？

Yeah. Perhaps. Yeah. I mean, can you imagine that you're a translator and you're choosing between manured and overly indulged? Right?

究竟该如何抉择？老实说我不确定他们为何选择'被施肥'，这个词可能有我不了解的农业内涵。但这就是译者面临的令人眩晕的选择。不过我认为译者必须考虑的一点是，曼德尔施塔姆在多大程度上受到词语发音的支配。

So how do you how do you get this? I am not sure, frankly, how they got to manured. There might be an agricultural connotation to that word that I'm not aware of. But, yeah, this is these are sort of staggering staggering choices that confront the translator. But then I think that one thing that the translator has to think about is to what extent Mandelstam is being governed by just the sound of words.

即使不懂俄语，你也能从韵律模式中看到所有'x'音。看看第一诗节里有多少'x'音。然后是'凋谢'，接着是'合唱团'，对吧？

And so you can see, even if you can't read Russian, you can see in the in the pattern just all the x's. Look at all the x's in that first stanza. Right? So there's and then which is withers, and then which is choir. Right?

诗人选词往往不仅因为发音，但主要确实取决于发音，因为这就是诗歌创作的方式。而这基本算是首押韵诗。

And so when you're a poet, oftentimes, you're choosing words not exclusively because of their sound, right, but largely because of their sound because that's how you're you're composing your poem. And this is a this is a more or less rhyming poem.

那么索菲你如何评判？你拥有我们讨论过的特殊专长，这是通过多年沉浸研究培养的。当你遇到承载特定力量和社会权力的两种诗作版本时...

So how do you judge, Sophie? So you have this special expertise, which we talked about. Mhmm. And it has been cultivated through years and years of immersion and study. And then you encounter these two versions of a poem that comes bearing a particular force and a particular social power.

你是如何进行评判的？这种判断行为在你的脑海中是如何发生的？因为我假设这不是一种一对一的关系。这个词比那个更忠实于原文。那么，这里的判断是如何发生的呢？

How do you how do you judge? How does that act of judgment happen in your mind? Because I assume it's not a kind of one to one. This is more faithful to the original than this word. So so how does the judgment happen here?

嗯，翻译有两大学派。第一种是关于所谓的忠实性，对吧？这更像是一对一的翻译学派。纳博科夫是这种一对一翻译学派最热情的倡导者之一，他写了许多愤怒、厌恶的论战文章，反对任何运用自己判断力并改动文本的人。

Well, there are two schools of translation. The first one is all about so called fidelity. Right? And that is much more the one to one school of translation. Nabokov is one of the most passionate advocates of this one to one school of translation and wrote many angry disgusted polemics against anyone who used their judgment and changed the text.

他甚至认为，在好的翻译中，词序也不应被轻易改变，这在我看来导致他做出了一些非常、非常糟糕的翻译。所以我当然不是一对一学派的粉丝，因为那样最终会产生很多难以理解的内容。你经常会得到极其怪异且迂回的表达方式。例如，在英语中，当原文相当直白，听起来非常自然流畅时，它甚至不会引起太多注意，对吧？

Even the word order, he thought, should not be changed properly in a good translation, which led him to make some really, really bad translations, in my view. So I'm certainly not a fan of the the one to one simply because you end up with a lot that is unintelligible. And so you often end up with extremely bizarre and sort of convoluted turns of phrase. For example, in English, when the original is quite straightforward and sounds very natural and light, it doesn't even really draw attention to itself. Right?

而我更倾向于将翻译视为一种受启发的近似，甚至是再创作，一种重新发明。我认为这在诗歌翻译中尤为明显。诗歌根本不是你可以一对一翻译的东西，除非它是相当糟糕、过于简单的诗歌，对吧？好的诗歌需要被重新创造。

And I am more in the the school of translation as a sort of inspired approximation or even recreation, a sort of reinvention. And I think that this is especially true of poetry. Poetry is just not something that you can translate in a one to one sense, unless it's quite bad, overly simple poetry. Right? Good poetry needs to be reinvented.

我认为这也是为什么很多时候，最好的诗歌翻译者本身就是诗人的部分原因，对吧？

And I think that's part of the reason that oftentimes, the best poetic translators are poets themselves. Right?

那么，如果这是一个合理的问题，我想问哪种重新创作对你更有吸引力？这里有更好的重新创作吗？

So I think reinvention whose reinvention is more appealing to you, if that's a fair question to ask. Is there a better reinvention here?

我更喜欢第二个。你知道，第一个版本的最后一行是‘成为沉默劳作的黑暗言语’。那非常糟糕，非常非常糟糕。

I I prefer the second one. You know, the first one has this ending line, be the dark speech of silence laboring. That's very bad. That's very, very bad.

好的，等等。让我们一步步来。我们把接下来的两节一起看一下。你能读一下第一节和第二节吗？

Okay. Wait. Let's let's let's get our let's let's work our way there. Let's take the next two stanzas together. So could you read the first and the second?

好的，第二节和第三节。‘在犁地的头几天，它黑得发蓝。这里，无工具的劳作开始了。千堆传闻被犁开。’

Okay. Stanzas two and three. In the first days of plowing, it's so black, it looks blue. Here, the labor without tools begins. A thousand mounds of rumor plowed open.

‘我看到这界限没有界限。然而大地是个错误，斧头的背面。跪在她脚下，她不会察觉。她用腐朽的长笛竖起我们的耳朵，用她清晨的木管乐器冻结它们。’而在下一个翻译版本中：‘初耕时，它黑得泛蓝。’

I see the limits of this have no limits. Yet the earth's a mistake, the back of an axe. Fall at her feet, she won't notice. She pricks up our ears with her rotting flute, freezes them with the woodwinds of her morning. And then in the next translation, with early plowing, it is black to blueness.

这里徒手的劳动被颂扬。千山犁开广阔的田畴诉说。圆周并非全然封闭。然而大地却充满谬误与钝感。即便屈膝也无法撼动分毫。

An unarmed labor here is glorified. A thousand hills plowed open wide to say it. Circumference is not all circumscribed. And yet the earth is blunder and obtuseness. No swaying it even on bended knee.

它腐朽的长笛使听觉锐利。清晨的单簧管撕裂耳膜。

Its rotting flute gives sharpness to the hearing. Its morning clarinet harrows the ear.

对我来说，第三节诗最突出的就是大地如何变成了'她'。对吧？第一首里，她用腐朽的长笛让我们竖起耳朵。嗯。第二首里，它腐朽的长笛如何使听觉变得敏锐。

So to me, what immediately jumps out in those third stanzas is how the earth becomes the she. Right? In that in the first one, she pricks up our ears with her rotting flute. Mhmm. And then in the second one, how its rotting flute gives sharpness to the hearing.

能谈谈这些选择吗？

Can you talk a little bit about those choices?

这个决定其实与俄语名词有性别而英语没有相关。对吧？这只是译者斟酌的瞬间——是否要重现这点？但若选择更字面的方式赋予性别，会让诗歌显得充满性别意识，而这在俄语原诗中未必如此。

Well, that's a decision that has to do simply with having gender of nouns in Russian and not in English. Right? And, you know, that's just a moment of translatorly discretion. Do you wanna reproduce it? But it is a moment where the what appears to be the more literal option, which is to give it a gender, I I guess that's the more literal option, makes it feel like a very gendered poem in a way that it really doesn't necessarily in Russian.

因为在俄语中，每个名词都有性别非常自然。对吧？你不会过多思考。我相信在座很多人会说有性别的语言。许多语言都有性别，但你不会特别将常见名词与特定性别的人深刻关联。

Because in Russian, it's completely natural for every noun to have a gender. Right? You don't think about it so much. I'm sure a lot of you speak some language that has gender. Many languages have have gender, and you don't necessarily think of the the noun, the com especially a commonplace noun, as being profoundly associated with people of that gender.

而在英语中做出这种选择，则是对诗歌的诠释。尤其对于如此复杂、隐晦、充满歧义的曼德尔施塔姆诗歌——他是位极其复杂的诗人。译者在此进行了大量诠释工作。翻译的成败很大程度上取决于译者的解读和语感。我个人更喜欢第二个译本，它虽未强行复制押韵（这在英语中比俄语困难得多），但更好地暗示了这是首关于声音的诗。

Whereas when you make that choice in English, it has to do with an interpretation of a poem. And especially with a poem of this complexity, of this elusiveness, of this ambiguity, and Mandelsheim is an immensely complicated poet. The translator is doing a huge amount of interpretive work. And the translation really pivots completely and succeeds or fails based in part on the translator's interpretation, but also on their ear. And so one thing that I like in this second translation a little bit more, maybe, is the way that it does seem to do a better job of without trying to fully reproduce the rhyme, which I think is a very dangerous attempt, especially given that English is a language where it's much harder to make rhymes than Russian.

虽未复制原诗的韵律格式，却暗示了这是首以声音为主体的诗。对吧？确实如此。因此不懂俄语的英语读者仍能感知声音的重要性。比如第一诗节中'全空气，全慈爱'的小押韵就很关键。

But without without trying to reproduce the specific scheme of rhyme and meter, it does intimate to you that this is a poem that's largely about sounds. Right? Which it is. So as an English reader who has no access to the Russian original, you can still see that the that the that the sound is important. So it matters in the first stanza, for example, that all air, all loving care.

而第一个译本更偏向口语化的平实诗风，虽然自有其美妙之处，但离曼德尔施塔姆的诗歌理念相去甚远。

Right? There's a little rhyme that he was able to squeeze in there within a single line that's important. Whereas the first translation is more of the kind of conversational plain spoken style of poetry, which is, of course, wonderful in its own way, there are some lovely lines there. But I think it's much less true to Mandelstam's own approach to poetry.

我们来谈谈最后诗节吧。

Let's speak about the final stanza.

肥沃的土地在犁铧上的触感多么美妙，转向四月的步伐多么宁静。致敬啊，黑土地。鼓起勇气，睁大眼睛。成为静默劳作中的黑暗宣言。然后是第二首。

How good the fat earth feels on the plowshare, how still the step turned up to April. Salutations, black earth. Courage, keep the eye wide. Be the dark speech of silence laboring. And the second one.

肥沃土地对犁的压力多么甜美。春天如何让步伐转向有利方向。我向你致意，黑土地。保持坚强。留心观察。

How sweet the fat earth's pressure on the plow. How the spring turns the step to its advantage. My greetings then, black earth. Be strong. Look out.

劳作中无言的黑曜石般雄辩。

Black eloquence of wordlessness in labor.

所以对我来说，'静默劳作'和'劳作中的无言'存在巨大差异。

So to me, there's a huge difference between silence laboring and wordlessness in labor.

就像我之前说的，我认为第一首诗的最后一行听起来真的很糟糕。它显得扭曲、复杂又别扭，你需要停顿才能解析。而曼德尔施塔姆的作品，当你尝试翻译或深入研究时，真的非常困难。光是分析语法和理清含义就很吃力。虽然我不是俄语母语者，但我觉得即使对母语者来说有时也会感到困惑。

I mean, as I as I said before, I think that the the final line of the first poem just sounds really bad. It just sounds twisted and convoluted and awkward, and you have to pause to parse it. And Mandelsham, I think, when you try to translate him or you try to study him intensively and really parse his meaning, it's really difficult. Just analyzing the grammar and figuring out what's going on. I'm not a native Russian speaker, but I think even sometimes for native Russian speakers, it can be confusing.

但你在完全解析文字含义之前，就会被这种压倒性的感受击中。对吧？所以我认为如果翻译不能在读者理解字面意思前就传递情感，那它可能就是失败的。比如'成为静默劳作中的黑暗宣言'这句话，至少对我来说没有激起任何情感，只会让我困惑：你到底在说什么？

But you're sort of hit by this overwhelming sensation even before you've parsed exactly what is going on with the words. Right? And so I think that the translation has probably failed if it doesn't hit you with a feeling before you've tried to figure out what the words actually mean. And say, be the dark speech of silence laboring, for me, at least, be the dark speech of silence laboring doesn't hit me with any feeling. It just makes me think, like, what are you talking about?

'劳作中无言的黑曜石雄辩'，你知道的，虽然还是很复杂，但确实好些。所以接下来...

Black eloquence of wordlessness and labor, you know, it's still pretty complicated, but it does better. So to pull

稍微打断一下，假设你在写一篇类似以前写过的论文，讨论某位经典或深受喜爱诗人的两种译本。在现有观察基础上，你如何将这些发现融入更大的论点或叙事？

up a little bit, let us say you were writing an essay, the kind that you've written before, in which you were talking about two different translations of kind of canonical or beloved poet. Where do you go from here? So you have these observations. How do you plug those observations into making some kind of larger argument or telling some kind of larger story? Well,

部分因为读者更喜欢这样，我通常会回归诗人或作家的原作，将其置于更宏大的叙事中。比如我会把这首曼德尔施塔姆晚期诗歌，放在他被流放至俄罗斯中部沃罗涅日的故事背景下，与他预感即将到来的死亡联系起来。这段创作时期正是他在古拉格死亡前，最后爆发出的极具悲剧色彩的创造力，产生的诗歌混杂着奇特的威胁感。这首诗确实存在某种令人不安的威胁性。

I mean, I tend to partly because I found that this is what readers tend to enjoy. I tend to go to the poet or the writer's original work and put them in a larger story. So I would place this poem, this late Mandostom poem, in the story of Mandostom's exile to Varonezh in Central Russia, in the story of his impending death, which he sort of felt. So in this period when he was writing, he was having this great final, very tragic outburst of creativity before he died in the gulag and produced these poems that had this quite strange admixture of menace. So there's something quite menacing in this poem, right, and quite disturbing.

诗中有腐烂的长笛和斧背——这正是我喜欢第一首诗的地方，它保留了斧背的意象。嗯，确实存在某种真实的威胁，但同时又有种壮丽的丰饶感。

There's the rotting flute and the back of an axe. That's something I like in the first poem that it keeps the back of the axe. Mhmm. There's something really threatening, but there's this also this sort of magnificent fertility

嗯。

Mhmm.

对吧？大地的丰饶，那是确实存在的。所以我认为重要的是要将这种张力——如果你愿意这么说的话——植根于曼德尔施塔姆的传记中，然后再置于他参与的那些更宏大的历史事件里，也就是斯大林主义及其大清洗运动。

Right? And abundance of the earth, which was something that was there. So I think it's important to root, if you will, that tension in Mandelstam's biography and then in the larger events that he was taking part in, right, which is Stalinism and the purges under Stalin.

所以你先是解读这首诗，将其置于传记背景中，然后再把传记放在某种政治语境或环境下。

So you have the poem, you situate it in a biography, and then you situate the biography in a kind of political context or condition.

嗯。

Mhmm.

从传记角度解读文本，再从政治角度解读传记，这其中存在哪些困难？因为你在文章中也经常这么做，而且我觉得你总能以如此娴熟的方式找到恰到好处的平衡点。

What are the difficulties of reading biographically and then of reading biographies politically? Because you also do this quite a bit in your essays, and I think you you manage to find the right balance in such a such an adept way.

你问这个很有意思，因为在我本科训练时期，耶鲁还盛行新批评主义的诗歌分析法，对吧？那是反历史主义的。所以我们完全不考虑历史背景，理念就是让你独自面对一首诗，就像在黑匣子里，它与诗人传记的关联无关紧要。我还被教导要警惕'传记谬误'，当然诗人所处的历史时代更是毫不相干。

It's funny that you asked that because in my training as an undergrad, you know, it was still the days at Yale when the analysis of poetry was rooted in this new critical approach, right, which was antihistorical. And so we would have no historical context. And the idea was that you just sit there with a poem and you can sit there kind of in a black box and it's irrelevant how it relates to the poet's biography. And, you know, I was taught about the biographical fallacy, and it's certainly irrelevant what were the historical times that the person was was living in.

我现在教的课正是基于这个前提，所以听你这么说让我很兴奋

And I teach a class based on exactly this premise, so I'm very excited to hear you

听到这个我很开心。我太喜欢那种方式了，觉得棒极了。嗯。我从中获得了极大的乐趣。

say this. I loved that. I thought it was fantastic. Mhmm. I I took so much pleasure in it.

我是说，本科时我专门选这类课，只上诗歌细读课，从不上散文课，整个大学期间没修过一节历史课。我就想坐在那里严格地研读诗歌。嗯。

I I mean, I sought them out when I was an undergraduate. I only took classes in poetry close reading. I didn't take any prose classes. I didn't take a single history class the entire time I was an undergraduate. All I wanted to do was sit there kind of rigorously reading poetry Mhmm.

在真空中。但必须承认，后来某个时刻——就是写毕业论文时——我研究艾米莉·狄金森那些以亡者口吻创作的诗，读着读着发现她很多明喻其实直接指向内战时期特定的丧葬习俗。对吧？

In a void. But then I must say, actually, at a certain point, and it was when I wrote my senior thesis. I was writing my senior thesis in college about Emily Dickinson's poems where she's where the speaker is already dead but is still writing a poem. And I was reading, reading, and I realized that a lot of her similes were actually quite direct references to specific conventions of mourning and death during the civil war period. Right?

因为那是一个集体创伤的时代，许多人正在死去，许多年轻人正在逝去。我开始感觉到，至少对我个人而言，尽管我热爱在虚无中读诗，但我个人也渴望了解历史背景。因为我发现，了解艾米莉·狄金森那些诗歌的创作背景后，完全改变了我对诗歌的感受与理解。我对它们的爱并未减少，但在某种程度上，它们不再那么神秘，反而更加鲜明。我喜欢能将诗歌与背后的故事联系起来。

Because it was a time when of mass trauma when so many people were dying and a lot of young people were dying. And I started to feel that, at least I personally, as much as I loved reading poems in a void, I personally kinda wanted to also know what was going on historically because I found with those Emily Dickinson poems that it completely changed my feeling about the poems and my understanding with the poems. I didn't love them any less. But in a way, they they were less enigmatic, but also kind of more bright. And I liked having the story to attach them to.

我认为许多读者也非常非常享受这一点。所以我想说，在我的写作中，我试图保持对文学的尊重——伟大的文学作品即使没有历史背景，也能始终让人带着愉悦、欢欣和某种启迪去阅读。真正伟大的作品本身就能独立存在。但我也认为，了解背景同样是一种极大的乐趣，它能进一步丰富你对诗歌的理解。对我而言，像曼德尔施塔姆或艾米莉·狄金森这样的伟大作家，他们在我的想象中是活生生的人。

And I think a lot of readers also really, really enjoy that. So I would say that in my writing, I try to maintain a respect for literature as something that can great literature can always be read with pleasure, with joy, with sort of edification without that historical context. If it's truly great, it stands alone, I think, very strongly. But I think that that that context is a great pleasure as well and further enriches your understanding of the poem. And for me, write great writers like Mandelstam or Emily Dickinson or or whoever, they exist as sort of living people in my imagination.

某种程度上，他们几乎像是你的朋友。嗯。而要做到这一点，你需要了解一些背景。

They're almost like your friends at a certain point. Mhmm. And for that, you need to understand some context.

那么我再问一个问题。我们刚才谈到，如果你要为《评论》或其他刊物撰写关于曼德尔施塔姆的散文，讨论他作品的不同译本时，你会如何定位这首诗。如果你要在关于森林文化史的书籍首章中讨论它，你会如何定位？

So I will ask one more question. We just spoke about how you might situate this if you were writing it as part an essay for the review or wherever in which you were talking about Mandelstam, you were talking about different translations of his work. How would you situate this if you were writing about it in, for instance, the first chapter of a book on the cultural history of forests

嗯。

Mhmm.

就像你现在正在写的那本书？

Like the book that you were working on now?

如果是在——我确实一直在考虑在我的森林书中写曼德尔施塔姆——我自然会从黑土及其历史开始。曼德尔施塔姆可能不知道，但正是向超级肥沃的黑土扩张，才使得俄罗斯帝国得以崛起并发展壮大，因为这带来了更高的农业产量。从这个意义上说，这是一首关于地理与土地（最字面的意义）与政治权力关系的极具力量的诗歌，对吧？

Well, if it were in and I have been thinking about trying to write about Mandelstam in in my book about forests. I would start, of course, with the black earth and the history of the black earth. And the black earth, I don't know if Mandelstom knew this, but the expansion into the super fertile black earth was what allowed the Russian empire to become what it did and to to grow as it did because it allowed these much larger agricultural yields. So in that sense, it's it's a very powerful poem about the relationship between geography and the earth in the most literal sense and political power. Right?

而最终，这种政治权力摧毁了诗人。因此可以想象，它可以作为...

And a political power that destroyed the poet in the end. So it opens one could imagine it serving as a

某种开篇，开启一本关于土地、权力与诗歌关系的书籍，因为它如此完美地构成了这三者的三角关系。

kind of opening opening to a book about the relationship between the earth, power, and poetry since it triangulates those three things so beautifully.

是的。是的。

Yes. Yes.

索菲，非常感谢你能和我们一起在这里。

Sophie, thank you so much for being with us here

今晚。感谢邀请我，也谢谢大家的到来。

tonight. For inviting me, and thank you everyone for coming.

您刚才收听的是《评论家与她的公众》节目，嘉宾是索菲·平克汉姆。我是玛瓦·埃姆雷。我要感谢韦斯利安大学夏皮罗中心和校长办公室的工作人员、《纽约书评》、LitHub以及克诺夫出版社。感谢《纽约书评》允许我们使用本集惊喜物件——曼德尔施塔姆的《黑土》的首个译本。同时也感谢新方向出版社提供的第二个译本。

You've been listening to the critic and her publics with Sophie Pinkham. I'm Marva Emre. I'd like to thank the staff at the Shapiro Center and the president's office at Wesleyan University, the New York Review of Books, LitHub, and Knoff. Thank you to the New York Review of Books for providing us with permission to use the first translation of this episode's surprise object, Mandelsheim's Black Earth. And thank you to New Directions for the second translation.

感谢我们的编辑米歇尔·摩西，以及作曲家丹妮·伦科尼为节目配乐。两周后请继续收听我与汉娜·戈德菲尔德的对话。

Thank you to our editor, Michelle Moses, and our composer, Dani Lencioni, for her score. Join us in two weeks for my conversation with Hannah Goldfield.