 
    
  
  Janel Mueller and Joshua Scodel, eds. Elizabeth I: Translations. Chicago and  London: U of Chicago P.,  2009. 2 vols.   490pp+494pp. ISBN 978 0 226 20131 3.
Patrick Hart
  İstanbul  Kültür University
scassacocchi@gmail.com
Patrick Hart, "Review of Janel Mueller and Joshua Scodel, eds. Elizabeth  I: Translations." [EMLS 15.3 (2011): 7] http://purl.org/emls/15-3/reveliz.htm 
  
    -       This two-volume set supplements the two  books the University of Chicago Press has already dedicated to Elizabeth I’s  writings, the Collected Works (henceforth CW), edited by Janel Mueller with  Leah Marcus and Mary Beth Rose (2000), and Autograph  Compositions and Foreign Language Originals (henceforth ACFLO), edited by Mueller and Marcus (2003). Reviewing CW in this journal, Douglas Bruster  argued that its appearance – that of a ‘general reader’s fantasy of a scholarly  tome’ – betrayed its editorial principles, or lack of them, concluding that the  ‘half scholarly, half popular collection’ ultimately offered up for consumption  a ‘fantasy Elizabeth – a professorial erotic dream’(1). He had a point. Translations, however, is a quite  different proposition. It shares the handsome looks of its sibling volumes –  including the embossed capital ‘E’ decorated with scroll work on the cover –  but the red silk ribbon to mark one’s place that adorned CW is gone, and this trivial change seems symbolic of a more  fundamental shift in editorial attitudes: what we have here are two beautifully  produced, rigorously edited volumes that are going to become indispensible to  students of early modern translation, of courtly literary culture more  generally, and of Elizabeth herself.
 
 
- Elizabeth emerges from the texts presented  here as a tough-minded, sharp-witted translator whose instinct for the  colloquial mot juste constantly rubs  up against a tendency to follow the Latinate syntax of her sources. As the  editors note, Elizabeth’s translations are ‘generally faithful to their  originals while also being lively, artful specimens of English prose’ (1: 14).  While she makes heavy use of cognates and often translates word-for-word or phrase-for-phrase,  Elizabeth’s vocabulary is drawn mostly from the native English word stock, and  as a result her translations often have an idiomatic if somewhat gnarled  quality. While not going so far as to introduce overtly English references and  allusions into her translations in the manner of her godson John Harington  (original recipient of several of these translations) or of Ben Jonson,  Elizabeth does frequently realign her sources to accord more closely with her  own conceptions and values. This is sometimes evident in matters of gender,  but, as the editors argue, is especially apparent in questions of religion and  politics, where, for example, she tones down claims by Marguerite de Navarre  and Boethius that humans can unite with the divine, and Christianizes Seneca’s  references to fate. Her translation of Erasmus’s Plutarch, meanwhile,  ‘strikingly deviates from its treatment of tyrants and informers by  transferring the moral onus of spying from rulers to their spies’ (1: 17). 
 
 
-     The question of how far Elizabeth herself  is present in her translations has already been raised elsewhere, and for the  most part her editors are alert to the obvious dangers of drawing parallels  between her activity as a translator and her public and private affairs  (Hackett) . Occasionally,  though, they do seem to be straining to establish biographical connections, of  the sort that led Bruster, in reviewing CW, to talk of a ‘persistent  interest in promoting a fantasy Elizabeth not unlike the Hollywood one’  (Bruster 9) - as when they suggest that translating Seneca’s letter on  accepting adversity ‘may have provided a counterbalance, if not a catharsis,  for Elizabeth’s anxiety’ at a time when she was writing reproachful letters to  Mary, Queen of Scots, or that her translation of Cicero on friendship might  ‘open perspectives on her final, and finally abortive, set of marriage  negotiations’ (1: 6-7). . Such moments are rare here, however.
 
 
-     What emerges most strongly from these  translations, taken together, is the prevalence of a robust, Calvinized  Stoicism.  This should come as no  surprise, but the full range of Elizabeth’s engagement with Stoic thought here  is striking, particularly when one focuses on her adult work (two-thirds of  volume one is taken up with Elizabeth’s juvenile translations, produced as New  Year gifts for immediate family members). The longest and most involved  translation by some way is that of Boethius’s De Consolatione Philosophiae (discussed at length by Lysbeth  Benkert in an earlier issue of EMLS);  Elizabeth also translated letters with a Stoic flavour by Seneca and Cicero, as  well as a hundred lines idealizing Stoic retreat from the tragedy Hercules Oetaeus (ascribed to Seneca in  the Renaissance), and  Cicero’s oration  celebrating Julius Caesar’s clement display of virtuous reason in the wake  of  civil war (the editors skilfully draw  out the affinities Elizabeth clearly felt with Cicero’s Caesar). Seneca and  Cicero are also the two authors most often quoted or referenced in the Sententiae, a collection of 259 pithy  pronouncements on the responsibilities of sovereign rule, printed alongside her  Latin prayers in 1563, and published here, along with her book inscriptions, on  the grounds that ‘they closely relate to the linguistic and intellectual  exertions of her translations’ (1: 4). 
 
 
-     The one significant exclusion by the  editors from the canon of Elizabeth’s translations is a version of the first  ninety lines of Petrarch’s Trionfo dell’eternità previously almost unanimously attributed to her, which is here relegated to an  appendix to volume one. Arguing that it ‘displays little of her curt  sententiousness, characteristic ellipses, and inversions of normal word order’,  and, in particular, that it does not make the heavy use of cognates typical of  Elizabeth’s other translations (1: 463-4), Mueller and Scodel conclude that it  presents too many discrepancies to be identified as a ‘plausible composition by  Queen Elizabeth’ (1: 468).  The internal  evidence the editors offer is persuasive, and raises at least two questions:  firstly, do we need to revise our established notions of Elizabeth’s  associations with Petrarchism; and secondly, if Elizabeth didn’t pen this  translation, who did? 
 
 
-     Volume one opens with a concise general  introduction to Elizabeth’s activities as a translator, and this is  supplemented by more detailed introductions to each of the individual  translations. The scholarly apparatus throughout is helpful without being  intrusive. Detailed footnotes record Elizabeth’s pen-slips and her actual and  apparent deviations from her source, clarify her probable meaning where it  becomes obscure, and highlight where seeming peculiarities in the translation  correspond to substantive variants in the editions from which she translated.  As in ACFLO,  typographical reproductions of Elizabeth’s translations are offered alongside  the editors’ facing-page modern-spelling versions. Given the difficulties for  modern readers of Elizabeth’s frequent ellipses, her occasionally misleading  cognates, her word-for-word construals and her tendency to use words and forms  that were passing out of use in her own time,  this was probably a  necessary editorial decision, especially in the case of the later translations.  These are extant as first drafts only, probably completed at speed, and are  replete with scorings-out, corrections and additions which make the  transcriptions laborious if fascinating reading. 
 
 
-     Occasionally, however, particularly with  the earlier, juvenile texts, the parallel modern version feels redundant, and  one wonders whether, at the risk of violating editorial consistency, it might  not have been preferable to substitute it with the original source text. This  is especially true of Elizabeth’s translation for her father of Katherine  Parr’s Prayers or Meditations into Latin,  French and Italian, the only extant translation by Elizabeth into more than one  language. While the editors translate into English Elizabeth’s dedicatory  letter in Latin, no English equivalent is offered for the translations  themselves. This may be on the grounds that the  original is in English, but for many readers Parr's text might not be easy to  come by. 
 While it would have meant  violating the order of the original, presenting the three translations in  parallel, along with Parr’s text, might have been an attractive alternative,  facilitating comparisons between Elizabeth’s different versions and her  stepmother’s while also aiding the fledgling linguist. 
 
 
-   Overall, though, Mueller and Scodel are to  be commended on an excellent job. The centrality of translation in early  modern literary culture has long been recognized, but this recognition has not  always been matched by scholarly endeavour. 
 By making readily accessible for the first time all of  Elizabeth’s substantial translations, the editors have filled in a uniquely significant  part in our picture, effectively sending out an invitation to scholars to  grapple further with the manifold implications of these intriguing texts. It is  to be hoped the invitation will be taken up. 
Works  Cited
  
 
Responses to this piece intended for the 
  Readers' Forum may be sent to the Editor at M.Steggle@shu.ac.uk.

  © 2011-, Annaliese Connolly and Matthew Steggle (Editors, EMLS).