Before explaining the principles that guided translation choices, you may be wondering, Why read a translation of a translation? Assuming one has neither the time, inclination, or familiarity with Middle English to read the original, reading a Modern English translation based on Chaucerâs Boece (as opposed to one based on the Latin) has three advantages: first, it provides easier cross-referencing of passages between Boece and Chaucerâs other works; second, it creates a starting point from which to examine how Chaucer himself interpretedâand sometimes even emended or embellished onâThe Consolation; third, it provides a glimpse into the wonderful wordsmithing of âthe father of English poetry.â These considerations alone make this text far more valuable to any student of Chaucer than a Modern English translation based on the Latin.
As for what might be called this translationâs editorial imperative, its principal goal is to make Chaucerâs Boeceâhis unique version of Boethiusâs workâaccessible to undergraduate and, to a lesser extent, graduate students by making both its words and ideas readable and clear.
To achieve that clarity, this present edition tries to balance what translators call a word-for-word translation and what they call a sense-for-sense one: in the former, the translator follows the original textâs wording as closely as possible, which can make the translation feel stilted at times; in the latter, the translator focuses more on imparting the meaning of the original in an easily digestible way, which can come at the cost of the original writerâs words and linguistic turns (easy-read Shakespeares follow this latter model). These extremes are rare, however; more commonly, translators balance the two. That balance is unique to the translator, but it is not haphazard: every translator sets out their own guiding principlesâor editorial imperativeâto give consistency to the choices they make. In this, I am no different.
On the word-for-word side, this translation maintains Chaucerâs original wording whenever possibleâa concession complicated by a few facts. First among them is the fact that many of Chaucerian Englandâs words are no longer in use. Examples of this are endite, to âwriteâ or âcompose,â or hente, to âseize.â Untranslated, those wordsâand many others like themâwould simply leave todayâs reader confused. So, they have been translated with a mind to the passageâs and the sentenceâs contextual clues as well as with an eye to the original Latin when possible. This practice was itself complicated by two facts: Chaucer drew not only from a Latin version but also from Jean de Meunâs Middle French translation, and Chaucer embellished in places to make his version clear to his own readers (these embellishments appear in italics in this present edition).
A second complication in a word-for-word rendering is that the intervening 700 years (since Chaucer wrote) have turned some words into false cognatesâthose âfalse friendsâ whose modern meaning does not correlate to the meaning they had when Chaucer used them. One example of this is Chaucerâs science, which to him referred to âknowledgeâ or âbranches of knowledgeâ in a general sense and did not have the now-specific focus on science as separate and distinct from art. Another example of this is torment, which is only sometimes a false friend: at times, both noun and verb forms do mean âtormentâ in the modern sense; at other times, the noun is more aptly translated as âpunishmentâ or âpenaltyâ and the verb as âharass.â In choosing which to use, the principal considerations were the sentenceâs context, the Latin when available (remember that Chaucer himself sometimes embellished or grabbed from the Middle French), and the University of Michiganâs Middle English Dictionary, which provided examples of how other Middle English writers used the same word.
A third complication is that some words are close enough to their current form and meaning that a discerning reader could make sense of them but using them would be cumbersome. Words in this category include linguistic gems such as angwysshous, which one might translate as âfull of anguishâ or âanguish-fullyâ but is rendered here as âanxious,â usually from some derivative of the Latin anxius. Another such gem is mysknowinge, which one might simply translate at âmis-knowingâ and hope for the best but is here translated as âignorance.â In a similar vein, sometimes a second word has been added to make clear the original word in cases where the addition clarifies which modern meaning is most appropriate. One example of this is where Chaucerâs emptid (1.m1.17) has been rendered as âexhausted and emptyâ; other examples include where Chaucerâs parfit (1.p2.7) becomes âperfect and completeâ or purturbacion (1.p1.88/89) becomes âperturbation and anxiety.â These additions and many others like them serve to offer clarity while also keeping Chaucerâs own word choices when possible.
A fourth and final complication comes from words that do, to varying degrees, correlate to modern usage but would nonetheless make for awkward reading or, conversely, words which a modern audience might find a bit stilted or archaic but are nonetheless still in use. An example of the former is Chaucerâs mighty, which certainly retains its modern sense of âmightyâ but is often closer to what would now be labeled âpowerfulâ or in some cases, when combined with prepositions, âto have control over.â So, in this text, âmightyâ is consistently replaced with âpowerful.â Similarly, while Chaucerâs welefulness could have remained âwellness,â this translation consistently renders it as âhappinessâ from the Latin beatitudinis or felicitate to strike a more modern note and more accurately convey the intent of the original. One example of the latterâwhere something archaic sounding was keptâis the verb âtravail,â to âtoilâ or âlabor,â which stayed âtravailâ for three reasons: first, it appears twenty- one times in Boece, so changing it once would have meant changing it twenty other times; second, though archaic, it retains the meaning that it had in Chaucerâs time; third, it helps preserve the textâs alterity, that feeling that the text is from another time, without sacrificing comprehension.
One place word-for-word considerations were readily forsaken was with prepositions and conjunctions. This was not the case in early drafts, but later drafts and the final version freely change âandâ to âbutâ or âwithoutâ to âthroughoutâ to clearly connect ideas. So, if a small âandâ here or there could help render the textâs arguments clearer, it was sacrificed. The same went for may, which was very often changed to âcanâ to give the text a more modern feel.
As for the sense-for-sense, sentences have been restructured to preserve the original meaning while at the same time unravel antiquated syntax and grammar to present a more readable version. A perfect example of this is the workâs first sentence.
[Middle English:] Allas! I wepynge, am constreyned to bygynnen vers of sorwful matere, that whilom in florysschynge studie made delitable ditees.
[Early Rendering:] Alas! I, weeping, am constrained to begin verses of sorrowful subject, I who once, in flourishing, devotedly made delightful ditties.
[Final Rendering:] Alas! I am weeping. I who once, when flourishing, devotedly made delightful ditties am now constrained to begin verses of sorrowful subject.
In this example, the early rendering is closer to the original syntax, but it is jarring to the syntactical expectations of a modern reader. The final rendering has two benefits: first, it is more readable as two sentences; second, the ending of âverses of sorrowful subjectâ coheres (or directly leads into) the next sentence, which is about sorrowful verses.
In countless places throughout the text, Chaucer, like many others after him, was unconcerned with introductory phrases that sometimes run along for twenty or more words before introducing a sentenceâs grammatical subject. For todayâs audiences, this unnecessarily complicates the already difficult task of understanding the textâs complex ideas. So, when possible, this translation moved the subject closer to the sentenceâs head to allow readers to focus their energies on the ideas.
This opening sentence also highlights one of the complications regarding word-for-word considerations. While âsubjectâ could have remained âmatter,â the alliterative quality of the sentenceâs final two words befitted the meter section and kept the original meaning. Studie was more problematic because it could be read as an adverb, modifying âmade,â or even as a noun in a phrase âmade study,â which would then make the translation into the verb âstudiedâ an obvious choice. The final choice to make it the adverb âdevotedlyâ was made based on looking to the original Latin and Jean de Meunâs Middle French and after consulting the University of Michiganâs Middle English Dictionary.
When laid out like this, one might be tempted to think that very little of Chaucerâs wordplay remains, but that is not the case. Whoever has a mind to compare this translation against the original will find that it never strays too far from the original, and even then, never for too long. Certainly, more words have been kept than not; and, in the act of rearranging sentences, the phrases themselves often remain intact even when they have been shifted this way and that.
But in the end, a translation is not the original; a translation is an interpretation: the translatorâand, therefore, not youâhas made the choices between this word and that, between one sentence structure and another. Ultimately, this translation aims to faithfully interpret Chaucerâs Boece, to balance two sometimes competing imperatives: showcasing Chaucerâs brilliant wordsmithing and making the ideas accessible to modern audiences. At times, this translation abandons the colloquial register of Chaucerâs original in favor of leaving Chaucerâs Middle English word choices, his wordsmithing, in place (as mentioned above with words such as âtravailâ). Yet, what is lost there, this translation attempts to make up for with readability and preservation of the feeling that the text itselfâthough not its ideasâis from a bygone era. To what extent it is successful in balancing these competing and sometimes contradictory goals, you will ultimately be the judge.