His most famous work, L'Etranger, is now translated into Bulgarian. Photo: Wikipedia
The monument to French writer and philosopher Albert Camus (1913-1960), erected in the small town of Villeblevin, France, where he died in a car crash on January 4, 1960. Photo: Wikipedia
Every year about 1500 foreign-language titles are translated into Bulgarian. Photo: Service de presse
"Aujourd'hui, maman est morte. Ou peut-être hier, je ne sais pas. (Today mother died. Or perhaps yesterday, I don't know).
So begins L'Etranger, the seminal and perhaps most celebrated work of French writer Albert Camus (1913-1960), that captivated critics and readers, winning immediate recognition on its publication in 1942. It also captivated this 16-year-old journalist when he studied it as part of a French literature class at school.
Written in a deceptively simple, even sparse style, in first person narrative, without hyperbole or embellishment, L'Etranger tells the story of Meursault, a young French office worker in Algiers who kills a man on a beach in a random, motiveless moment after being blinded by the sun.
Meursault is convicted and sentenced to death but, as Camus implies, our protagonist is found "guilty" of socially unacceptable behaviour as exposed by prosecution lawyers. Meursault did not cry at his mother's funeral, he disclaimed ambition – turning down his boss's offer of promotion to Paris – and refused to placate his girlfriend by telling her that he loved her. He is wedded to the truth, however uncomfortable its manifestations for society. He lives for the moment and can only speak what he feels. The outside world – and particularly the court – sees Meursault's refusal to conform to society's norms as evidence that he is cold-blooded and unemotional.
Worse still, while languishing in prison, awaiting execution, Meursault refuses to embrace God, shunning the impassioned and comical attempts of a particularly zealous crucifix-wielding priest to convert him and give his life "meaning". Meursault is uncompromisingly atheist – even if a fake conversion to prison "sky rider" would help him through his ordeal. In the end, Meursault finds a different "meaning" to his short life. He comes to wish for his execution to be attended by enraged masses. "For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I only wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate."
Classics and modern oeuvre Meursault embodied Camus' own beliefs, what Albena Charbanova, from the audiovisual and book department of Sofia's French Cultural Institute*, describes as the writer's "radical atheism". This year the French Institute in Sofia has been celebrating Camus' life. April 20 saw the broadcast of a radio programme entitled The Literature cafe, dedicated to Camus' works, moderated by Reny Yotova and Sylvia Choleva. And on April 27 the French Institute screened a TV movie about Camus' life, originally shown in January on TV station France 2, to mark the 50th anniversary of his death.
Camus' reputation continues to grow. Aside from L'Etranger, Camus' philosophy of the absurd underlines La Peste (The Plague), which focuses on the effects of an outbreak of plague on doctors in Algeria, and his long essay The Myth of Sisyphus (1942). The latter, in particular, sets out his belief that life is ultimately Godless and pointless – differing subtly, however, from nihilists who see life as devoid of all meaning.
Away from literature, Camus was an avowed opponent of totalitarianism, whether of the Left or Right, having opposed the Nazis in World War 2 and then supporting the Hungarian uprising in 1956 against communist rule. Were it not for his tragically truncated life – he was killed in a car accident at the age of 47 – more great works would surely have followed.
Camus is just one legendary French author whose works have been translated into Bulgarian, along with Jean-Paul Sartre andHonoré de Balzac, Emile Zola and other, perhaps less celebrated names: Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Jacques Derrida, Marguerite Yourcenar, Patrick Modiano and Michel Tournier.
Translating these books is no easy matter – work requires meticulous concentration and remuneration is scandalously low – but a labour of love for which Bulgarians should be thankful. About 18 years ago Bulgaria's Ministry of Foreign Affairs set up the Vitosha programme to facilitate the translation into Bulgarian of numerous French titles. To date, about 16 000 different works, of both classical and contemporary oeuvre, have been translated, care of the French Institute.
Every year now sees the translation of about 1500 books into Bulgarian. Of this number about 1000 are English-language titles, between 100-250 are French-language works. The remainder are predominantly German, Spanish and Russian. French culture and literature have always been popular in Bulgaria; currently 9000 students study at bilingual schools and these young people constitute many of the readers of French classics.
Affection for the classics should not divert us from recognising the "new wave" of talented French writers. Works by Jean-Philippe Toussaint (born 1957), Anna Gavalda (born 1970), Fred Vargas (born 1957),Éric-Emmanuel Schmitt (born 1960) and Yasmina Reza (born 1960) have all been translated into Bulgarian.
Some contemporary French authors have visited Bulgaria to promote their works, like Bernard Werber,Frédéric Beigbederand Mark Levi. Most recently, in June, Lauren Gounel visited Sofia to launch his book Dieu Voyage Toujours Incognito – (God Always Travels Incognito).
Thanks to these, and many other authors, France's contribution to the conversation about the meaning of life continues.
*Many translations of French-language books can be found at Sofia's French Instute, 2 Diakon Ignatii.
Yes, we need to truly appreciate the translators who without being scrupulously attentive to every word could make the whole piece seem lukewarm. I found the idea of wanting a hostile crowd to publicly view one's execution to be a gruelling one. The literary geniuses bring us face to face with the human dilemma. If we can recognize the fatal flaw upon which they elaborate,we may empower ourselves not to develop it. Finally, the pay is so low that the work must be truly rewarding in itself; a chance to be up, close and personal with the wisest of all; [...]
Yes, we need to truly appreciate the translators who without being scrupulously attentive to every word could make the whole piece seem lukewarm. I found the idea of wanting a hostile crowd to publicly view one's execution to be a gruelling one. The literary geniuses bring us face to face with the human dilemma. If we can recognize the fatal flaw upon which they elaborate,we may empower ourselves not to develop it. Finally, the pay is so low that the work must be truly rewarding in itself; a chance to be up, close and personal with the wisest of all; [...]
Read the full comment a celebration of literary magic.