Mallarmé
Un coup de dés jamais n’abolira le hasard
(A throw
of the dice will never abolish chance)
Translated
by A. S. Kline © 2007, All Rights Reserved.
This work may be freely reproduced, stored, and
transmitted, electronically or otherwise, for any non-commercial purpose.
Contents
The
English Translation – Compressed, and Punctuated
The French text displayed here is as close as I could
achieve to that printed in the edition of July 1914, which produced a
definitive version superseding the original publication of 1897. The English ‘translation’
is offered as an equivalent text to, or interpretation of, the original. The compressed
and punctuated translation is offered as an aid to grasping the poem as a whole,
in a swift reading.
‘I
would prefer that this Note was not read, or, skimmed, was forgotten; it
tells the knowledgeable reader little that is beyond his or her penetration:
but may confuse the uninitiated, prior to their looking at the first words of
the Poem, since the ensuing words, laid out as they are, lead on to the last,
with no novelty except the spacing of the text. The ‘blanks’ indeed take on importance,
at first glance; the versification demands them, as a surrounding silence, to
the extent that a fragment, lyrical or of a few beats, occupies, in its midst, a
third of the space of paper: I do not transgress the measure, only disperse it.
The paper intervenes each time as an image, of itself, ends or begins once more,
accepting a succession of others, and, since, as ever, it does nothing, of
regular sonorous lines or verse – rather prismatic subdivisions of the Idea,
the instant they appear, and as long as they last, in some precise intellectual
performance, that is in variable positions, nearer to or further from the
implicit guiding thread, because of the verisimilitude the text imposes. The
literary value, if I am allowed to say so, of this print-less distance which
mentally separates groups of words or words themselves, is to periodically
accelerate or slow the movement, the scansion, the sequence even, given one’s simultaneous
sight of the page: the latter taken as unity, as elsewhere the Verse is or
perfect line. Imagination flowers and vanishes, swiftly, following the flow of
the writing, round the fragmentary stations of a capitalised phrase introduced
by and extended from the title. Everything takes place, in sections, by supposition;
narrative is avoided. In addition this use of the bare thought with its retreats,
prolongations, and flights, by reason of its very design, for anyone wishing to
read it aloud, results in a score. The variation in printed characters between
the dominant motif, a secondary one and those adjacent, marks its importance
for oral utterance and the scale, mid-way, at top or bottom of the page will
show how the intonation rises or falls. (Only
certain very bold instructions of mine, encroachments etc. forming the counterpoint
to this prosody, a work which lacks precedent, have been left in a primitive
state: not because I agree with being timid in my attempts; but because it is
not for me, save by a special pagination or volume of my own, in a Periodical
so courageous, gracious and accommodating as it shows itself to be to real
freedom, to act too contrary to custom. I
will have shown, in the Poem below, more than a sketch, a ‘state’ which yet does
not entirely break with tradition; will have furthered its presentation in many
ways too, without offending anyone; sufficing to open a few eyes. This
applies to the 1897 printing specifically: translator’s note.) Today,
without presuming anything about what will emerge from this in future, nothing,
or almost a new art, let us readily accept that the tentative participates, with
the unforeseen, in the pursuit, specific and dear to our time, of free verse and
the prose poem. Their meeting takes place under an influence, alien I know, that
of Music heard in concert; one finds there several techniques that seem to me to
belong to Literature, I reclaim them. The genre, which is becoming one, like the
symphony, little by little, alongside personal poetry, leaves intact the older
verse; for which I maintain my worship, and to which I attribute the empire of
passion and dreams, though this may be the preferred means (as
follows) of dealing with subjects of pure and complex imagination or intellect:
which there is no remaining justification for excluding from Poetry – the
unique source.’
QUAND
BIEN MÊME LANCÉ DANS DES CIRCONSTANCES
ÉTERNELLES
DU
FOND D'UN NAUFRAGE
que
l'Abîme
blanchi
étale
furieux
sous une inclinaison
planche désespérément
d'aile
la
sienne
par avance retombée d'un mal à dresser le vol
et couvrant les jaillissements
coupant au ras les bonds
très à l'intérieur résume
l'ombre enfouie dans la profondeur par cette voile alternative
jusqu'adapter
sa béante profondeur
entant que la coque
d'un bâtiment
penché de l'un ou l'autre
bord
LE
MAÎTRE
hors
d'anciens calculs
où la manoeuvre avec l'âge oubliée
surgi jadis il empoignait
la barre
inférant
de
cette
configuration à ses pieds
de
l’horizon unanime
que
se prépare
s'agite et mêle
au
poing qui l'étreindrait
comme on menace un
destin et les vents
l'unique Nombre
qui ne peut
pas être un autre
Esprit
pour le jeter
dans la tempête
en
reployer la division et passer fier
hésite
cadavre par le
bras écarté du secret qu'il détient
plutôt
que de jouer
en
maniaque chenu
la
partie
au
nom des flots
un
envahit le chef
coule en barbe soumise
naufrage cela direct
de l'homme
sans
nef
n'importe
où vaine
ancestralement à n'ouvrir
pas la main
crispée
par
delà l'inutile tête
legs en la disparition
à quelqu'un
ambigu
l'ultérieur démon immémorial
ayant
de
contrées nulles
induit
le vieillard vers cette conjonction suprême avec la probabilité
celui
son
ombre puérile
caressée et polie et rendue et lavée
assouplie par la vague et soustraite
aux
durs os perdus
entre les ais
né
d'un
ébat
la mer par l'aïeul tentant ou l'aïeul
contre la mer
une chance oiseuse
Fiançailles
dont
le voile d'illusion rejailli leur hantise
ainsi
que le fantôme d'un geste
chancellera
s'affalera
folie
N'ABOLIRA
Une insinuation
simple
au
silence
enroulée avec ironie
ou
le
mystère
précipité
hurlé
dans quelque
proche
tourbillon d'hilarité
et d'horreur
voltige
autour du gouffre
sans
le joncher
ni fuir
et en berce le vierge
indice
COMME
SI
plume solitaire
éperdue
sauf
que la rencontre ou l'effleure une
toque de minuit
et
immobilise
au
velours chiffonné par un esclaffement sonore
cette blancheur
rigide
dérisoire
en
opposition au ciel
trop
pour ne pas marquer
exigüment
quiconque
prince amer de
l'écueil
s'en coiffe
comme de l'héroïque
irrésistible mais contenu
par
sa petite raison virile
en foudre
soucieux
expiatoire et pubère
muet rire
que
SI
La
lucide et seigneuriale
aigrette de
vertige
au
front invisible
scintille
puis ombrage
une stature mignonne ténébreuse
debout
en sa torsion de sirène
le temps
de
souffleter
par
d'impatientes squames ultimes bifurquées
un roc
faux manoir
tout
de suite
évaporé en brumes
qui imposa
une borne à
l'infini
C'ÉTAIT LE NOMBRE
issu stellaire
EXISTÂT-IL
autrement qu'hallucination éparse d'agonie
COMMENÇÂT-IL ET CESSÂT-IL
sourdant que nié et clos quand
apparu
enfin
par
quelque profusion répandue
en rareté
SE CHIFFRÂT-IL
évidence de la somme
pour peu qu’une
ILLUMINÂT-IL
CE
SERAIT
pire
non
davantage ni moins
indifféremment mais autant
LE
HASARD
Choit
la
plume
rythmique suspens du sinistre
s'ensevelir
aux
écumes originelles
naguères d'où sursauta
son délire jusqu'à une cime
flétrie
par
la neutralité identique du gouffre
RIEN
de la mémorable crise
où se fût
l'événement accompli
en vue de tout résultat nul
humain
N'AURA EU LIEU
une élévation ordinaire
verse l'absence
QUE LE LIEU
inférieur clapotis quelconque comme pour disperser l'acte vide
abruptement qui sinon
par
son mensonge
eût fondé
la
perdition
dans ces parages
du vague
en
quoi toute réalité se dissout
EXCEPTÉ
à l'altitude
PEUT-ÊTRE
aussi loin qu'un endroit fusionne avec au-delà
hors
l'intérêt
quant
à lui signalé
en
général
selon telle obliquité
par telle déclivité
de
feux
vers
ce doit être
le
Septentrion aussi Nord
UNE
CONSTELLATION
froide d'oubli et de désuétude
pas
tant
qu'elle n'énumère
sur quelque surface vacante et supérieure
le
heurt successif
sidéralement
d'un
compte total en formation
veillant
doutant
roulant
brillant et méditant
avant de s'arrêter
à quelque point dernier qui le sacre
Toute pensée émet
un Coup de Dés
EVEN
WHEN TRULY CAST IN THE ETERNAL
CIRCUMSTANCE
OF
A SHIPWRECK’S DEPTH
Can be
only
the
Abyss
raging
whitened
stalled
beneath
the desperately
sloping
incline
of
its
own wing
through an
advance falling back from ill to take flight
and veiling the gushers
restraining
the surges
gathered far within
the
shadow buried deep by that alternative sail
almost matching
its
yawning depth to the wingspan like a hull
of a vessel
rocked
from side to side
THE
MASTER
beyond
former calculations
where
the lost manoeuvre with the age
rose
implying that
formerly he grasped the helm
of
this conflagration of
the concerted
horizon at his feet
that readies
itself
moves
and merges
with
the blow that grips it
as
one threatens fate
and the winds
the unique Number which cannot be
another
Spirit
to hurl it
into
the storm
relinquish
the cleaving there and pass proudly
hesitates
a
corpse pushed back by
the arm from the secret
rather
than taking
sides
a
hoary madman
on
behalf
of
the waves
one
overwhelms
the head
flows
through the submissive beard
straight
shipwreck that
of the man
without
a vessel
empty
no
matter where
ancestrally never to open
the fist
clenched
beyond
the helpless head
a legacy in vanishing
to
someone
ambiguous
the
immemorial ulterior demon
having
from
non-existent regions
led
the old man towards this ultimate meeting with probability
this
his
childlike shade
caressed and smoothed and rendered
supple
by the wave and shielded
from
hard bone lost between the planks
born
of
a frolic
the sea through the old man or the old man against the sea
making
a vain attempt
an
Engagement
whose
dread the veil of
illusion rejected
as the phantom of a
gesture
will
tremble
collapse
madness
WILL
NEVER ABOLISH
AS IF
A simple insinuation
into
silence
entwined
with irony
or
the
mystery
hurled
howled
in some close
swirl of mirth and terror
whirls
round
the abyss
without
scattering
or
dispersing
and cradles the virgin index there
AS
IF
a solitary plume overwhelmed
untouched
that a cap of
and
fixes
in
crumpled velvet with a sombre burst of laughter
that rigid whiteness
derisory
in
opposition to the heavens
too much so
not to signal
closely
any
bitter prince of the reef
heroically adorned with it
indomitable
but contained
by
his petty reason virile
in lightning
anxious
expiatory
and pubescent
dumb laughter
that
IF
The
lucid and lordly crest of
vertigo
on
the invisible brow
sparkles
then shades
a
slim dark tallness upright
in its siren coiling
at the moment
of
striking
through
impatient ultimate scales bifurcated
a rock
a deceptive manor
suddenly
evaporating
in fog
that imposed
limits on the
infinite
IT
WAS
THE
NUMBER
stellar
outcome
WERE
IT TO HAVE EXISTED
other than as a fragmented agonised hallucination
WERE IT TO HAVE BEGUN AND
ENDED
a surging that denied and closed when visible
at
last
by
some profusion spreading in sparseness
WERE
IT TO HAVE AMOUNTED
to
the fact of the total though as little as one
WERE IT TO HAVE LIGHTED
IT WOULD BE
worse
no
more
nor less
indifferently
but as much
CHANCE
Falls
the
plume
rhythmic
suspense of the disaster
to
bury itself
in
the original foam
from
which its delirium formerly leapt to the summit
faded
by
the same neutrality of abyss
NOTHING
of the memorable crisis
where
the event
matured accomplished
in sight of all non-existent
human
outcomes
WILL HAVE TAKEN PLACE
a
commonplace elevation pours out absence
BUT THE PLACE
some
lapping below as if to scatter the empty act
abruptly
that otherwise
by
its falsity
would
have plumbed
perdition
in this region
of
vagueness
in
which all reality dissolves
EXCEPT
at
the altitude
PERHAPS
as far as a place fuses with beyond
outside
the interest
signalled
regarding it
in
general
in
accord with such obliquity through such declination
of
fire
towards
what
must be
the
Wain also North
A
CONSTELLATION
cold
with neglect and desuetude
not
so much though
that
it fails to enumerate
on
some vacant and superior surface
the
consecutive clash
sidereally
of
a final account in formation
attending
doubting
rolling
shining
and meditating
before
stopping
at
some last point that crowns it
All
Thought expresses a Throw of the Dice
The English Translation – Compressed,
and Punctuated
A THROW OF THE DICE NEVER, EVEN WHEN TRULY CAST IN THE ETERNAL CIRCUMSTANCE OF A
SHIPWRECK’S DEPTH, Can be only the Abyss raging,
whitened, stalled beneath the desperately sloping incline of its own wing,
through an advance falling back from ill to take flight, and veiling the
gushers, restraining the surges, gathered far within the shadow buried deep by
that alternative sail, almost matching its yawning depth to the wingspan, like a
hull of a vessel rocked from side to side
THE MASTER, beyond former calculations, where the lost
manoeuvre with the age rose implying that formerly he grasped the helm of this
conflagration of the concerted horizon at his feet, that readies itself; moves;
and merges with the blow that grips it, as one threatens fate and the winds,
the unique Number, which cannot be another Spirit, to hurl it into the storm, relinquish
the cleaving there, and pass proudly; hesitates, a corpse pushed back by the
arm from the secret, rather than taking sides, a hoary madman, on behalf of the
waves: one overwhelms the head, flows through the submissive beard, straight
shipwreck that, of the man without a vessel, empty no matter where
ancestrally never to open the fist clenched beyond the
helpless head, a legacy, in vanishing, to someone ambiguous, the immemorial
ulterior demon having, from non-existent regions, led the old man towards this
ultimate meeting with probability, this his childlike shade caressed and
smoothed and rendered supple by the wave, and shielded from hard bone lost
between the planks born of a frolic, the sea through the old man or the old man
against the sea, making a vain attempt, an Engagement whose dread the veil of
illusion rejected, as the phantom of a gesture will tremble, collapse, madness,
WILL NEVER ABOLISH
AS IF A simple insinuation into silence, entwined with
irony, or the mystery hurled, howled, in some close swirl of mirth and terror,
whirls round the abyss without scattering or dispersing and cradles the virgin
index there AS IF
a solitary plume overwhelmed, untouched, that a cap of
midnight grazes, or encounters, and fixes, in crumpled velvet with a sombre
burst of laughter, that rigid whiteness, derisory, in opposition to the
heavens, too much so not to signal closely any bitter prince of the reef,
heroically adorned with it, indomitable, but contained by his petty reason,
virile in lightning
anxious expiatory and pubescent dumb laughter that
IF
the lucid and lordly crest of vertigo on the invisible brow sparkles, then
shades, a slim dark tallness, upright in its siren coiling, at the moment of
striking, through impatient ultimate scales, bifurcated, a rock a deceptive
manor suddenly evaporating in fog that imposed limits on the infinite
IT WAS THE NUMBER, stellar outcome, WERE IT TO HAVE
EXISTED other than as a fragmented, agonised hallucination; WERE IT TO HAVE
BEGUN AND ENDED, a surging that denied, and closed, when visible at last, by
some profusion spreading in sparseness; WERE IT TO HAVE AMOUNTED to the
fact of the total, though as little as one; WERE IT TO HAVE LIGHTED, IT
WOULD BE, worse no more nor less indifferently but as much,
CHANCE Falls the plume, rhythmic suspense of the disaster, to
bury itself in the original foam, from which its delirium formerly leapt to the
summit faded by the same neutrality of abyss
NOTHING of the memorable crisis where the event
matured, accomplished in sight of all non-existent human outcomes, WILL HAVE
TAKEN PLACE a commonplace elevation pours out absence BUT THE PLACE some
lapping below, as if to scatter the empty act abruptly, that otherwise by
its falsity would have plumbed perdition, in this region of vagueness, in which all
reality dissolves
EXCEPT at the altitude PERHAPS, as far as a place
fuses with, beyond, outside the interest signalled regarding it, in general, in
accord with such obliquity, through such declination of fire, towards what must
be the Wain also North A CONSTELLATION cold with
neglect and desuetude, not so much though that it fails to enumerate, on some
vacant and superior surface, the consecutive clash, sidereally,
of a final account in formation, attending, doubting, rolling, shining and
meditating before stopping at some last point that crowns it All Thought
expresses a Throw of the Dice
Notes:
1.
The larger and smaller words in capitals in the poem are to be read as
intertwined statements, and dominant
and secondary threads of the poem, in accordance with the hints in Mallarmé’s
Preface.
2.
The French Septentrion
meaning the North, derives from the Latin Septentrio also meaning the North, but specifically referring in addition to
the constellation Ursa Major known variously as the
Great Bear, Wain, Plough or Big Dipper. Note that a
constellation is a chance arbitrary visual formation of often widely disparate
stars, delineated and designated purely by the human mind.
3.
Note the following possible literary echoes, which may equally indicate no more
than Mallarme’s absorption of, and interest in, common
19th century themes:
- Coleridge’s
The Ancient Mariner (1797-1799: especially the casting of dice on the deck of
the spectral barge);
-
The legends of the Flying Dutchman, and of the Maelstrom (See for example the
final chapter of Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, 1870);
- Shakespeare’s
Hamlet who also appears in a Mallarmé sonnet (The
Clown Chastised);
- Rostand’s Cyrano (First performed 1897) with his defiant
plume (also of course in French a pen and a quill or swan’s feather, a key multiple
meaning impossible to capture in English);
- Melville’s
Moby Dick (1851: for Ahab’s defiance, and his pursuit of the White Whale that
signifies Le Néant, and
not merely for its compulsive and obsessive digressions!)
A. S. Kline,