Even before I read the first sentence of this book I had already begun contemplating my experience with it. When I arrived at the bookstore shelf I had a choice, not between two covers, but between two translations of the book. The feeling that overtook me was familiar, particularly from a re-reading of one of Kundera’s books a few years ago that had been re-translated. I felt a bit detached, disappointed, confused and quizzical. Which to choose? I ended up selecting the one by Robert Bly. But the question remained: How would my reading of the book be different had I selected the other one? What is gained or lost any time a piece is read in a language other than the one in which it was originally constructed. I always have a vague feeling that I’m not reading the book the author wrote. That isn’t to suggest that translations are bad and I know a couple of translators and know the pains they go through to ensure, as much as is possible, that they convey not only the words and story but the tone, feelings and even cadence of the original. There’s an interesting piece on Reading Translation at http://www.wordswithoutborders.org/?lab=HowTo if you wish to ponder the question some more. I’d be curious to know others’ thoughts on the translation conundrum. Well, enough preliminaries, I’ll be back with actual comments on Part 1 shortly.