Old English Boethius, the Power of Différance and Translation

In order to appreciate this sordid-by-modern-standards translation of Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy, it was necessary for me to place it further into context within (1) its time and (2) the discipline/scope of the discipline of translation. To that end, I found the following points from the Cambridge Anglo-Saxon England journal article, “Power, skill and virtue in the Old English Boethius,” a helpful framework:

“Similarities between two terms in different languages can reveal where the conceptual systems of the source and target cultures overlap.”

“Differences can indicate how cultures differ” (Discenza).

Famous for its divergence from the original in form as well as content, the Old English Boethius’ similarities between the late-Roman Empire source in Latin in 525 C.E. and the (circa) 900 C.E. translation for a Carolingian audience (Boethius frontispiece) stand out. Because it is so easy to focus on the differences between these late-Classical and Anglo-Saxon artifacts, this paper will reflect first on (what I find to be) one interesting similarity between them that can reveal where these conceptual systems overlap. Then we’ll look at a telling difference–or as Derrida would say, différance, connoting both difference and deferral of meaning–as an indicator/link between the cultures. In this regard, perhaps the true meaning of the Consolation has been deferred until this very paper. 1

“In a well-established system of translation, certain terms become accepted as standard equivalents to particular terms in other languages”–and this translator had no equivalents from which to work (Discenza). With Dialogi and Regula pastoralis as the only available models, the translator had to “solve translation problems himself.” In other words, give “King Alfred” a (bit of a) break.

“To be fair, it must also be noted that in CP, Alfred actually deletes a perfectly good piece of propaganda. Gregory explains in III.5.1–7 that subjects cannot reject their lords because to do so would be to reject God, who appointed them: ‘Serui ammonendi sunt ne Deum despiciant, si ordinationi illius superbiendo contradicunt’ (III.5.5–7; ‘servants are to be admonished lest they despise God, if in their pride they contradict his ordering’); Alfred briefly says that servants should obey their masters (201.13–5), but he does not translate the reason. He does keep the idea that lords should stay humble (III.5.8–17, 201.14–8). It is not clear why he does not take advantage of Gregory’s statement of support for worldly hierarchy, but this omission makes Alfred look less calculating in his use of translations for political purposes.”

Now that we have given “King Alfred” (the translator referred to in quotes because Alfred was long thought to have been, but no longer is, the translator) a break, and made him look somewhat nuanced and unbiased in his appeal to humble lords (yay) but not to support for worldly hierarchy (double yay from our modern perspective/times), let’s tear into some interesting différance to “indicate how the cultures differ”–and defer meaning.

But first, allow me to defer this discussion for a brief interruption by Michel Foucault on the power relationship that comes with translation. For like the triple-translation of Consolation from latin to Old English to modern English, even Derrida’s essay on “Différance,” so illustrative for us in terms of showing the powerful role that a translator plays in making meaning of the “original,” has kindly been translated for us from the French. In the essay “About the Beginnings of the Hermeneutics of the Self,” Foucault argues that those in power coerce individuals into a practice of “self-governance.” Those in power–i.e., kings and translators like “Alfred”–coerce the people into practicing “self-governance” creating for Foucault, the concept of government itself: “The contact point, where the individuals are driven by others is tied to the way they conduct themselves, is what we can call, I think, government” (Hermeneutics 203). In this model of government through self-governance, “the points where technologies of domination of individuals over one another have recourse to processes by which the individual acts upon himself. And conversely, he has to take into account the points where the techniques of self are integrated into structures of coercion or domination (Hermeneutics 203).

In this way, we can examine Foucault’s government across time–from the latin, to the Old English to the modern translation–through Boethius’ Consolation translations. And the very act of translation itself, whether it be performed by a king “Alfred” or otherwise, is a power move in which readers are at the mercy of the translator for their interpretation of the translated. Examining the power moves between the original, the first translation, and the subsequent translations, involves a translator skilled in Latin, Old and Modern English and maybe, if they (like me) want to tie in some Derridean ideas, to exercise true power would include reading in the original French–or to accept and give over power to yet another translator. In this way, unless we were to learn this all ourselves, which would involve considerable time and efforts receiving knowledge from language teachers, the very power of meaning-making cannot be harnessed by one, but by a collective of individuals attempting to self-govern and in so doing, giving in to “structures of coercion or domination” (Hermeneutics 203).

But back to Boethius. A striking difference in the modern English translation of the Old English translation of the urtext is the notion and externalization of the self itself: Boethius’ dialogue with Wisdom is not only more combative, but in the first parts of the translation it is Boethius’ “mind” which interacts with Wisdom–later, it is translated as Boethius. Boethius’ very “I” or sense of self, if it can be called that at that time, is co-opted by the translator who takes the liberty to split his mind from his body, a différance Boethius himself did not make (in the modern Consolation translation that I read). This shows concepts of self-governance that have changed across times in ways that will warrant another paper entirely, however, I will say this: it appears that in 900 C.E., the person in power who was able to translate Boethius for the masses and masquerade as King Alfred, was ready to move (the culture) on from Boethius’ model of contemplative resistance to what was happening to him–i.e., waiting to be executed–to make Boethius seem an insolent, selfish person whose Consolation of Philosophy showed his (1) mind’s combativeness to Wisdom, (2) enforced religious norms/structures at that time, and (3) cared most about the material loss, and loss of power incurred by his imprisonment.

But this is just my translation.

Notes

1 KIDDING!! Every good inhabitant of “Planet Derrida” (so called by Elif Batuman in her essay collection, The Possessed) knows words and signs can never fully define what they “mean,” and can only do so through additional words–from which they differ. Thus meaning is always deferred from the present into the future, via an endless chain of different/varying signifiers and speech acts.

Works Cited

Derrida, Jacques. “Différance.” Speech and Phenomena: and Other Essays on Husserl’s Theory of Signs, Northwestern University Press, 1973, p. 129.

Discenza, Nicole Guenther. “Power, skill and virtue in the Old English Boethius.” Anglo-Saxon England, vol. 26. Cambridge University Press (Online): September 2008.

Foucault, Michel. “About the Beginning of the Hermeneutics of the Self.” Political Theory, vol. 21, no. 2: 1993, pp. 198-227.

The Old English Boethius, edited by Susan Irvine and Malcolm R. Godden, the President and Fellows of Harvard College: 2012.